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Chris took a deep breath and splashed warm water onto her face from her bathroom sink. Afterward, she lowered her hands and stared into the mirror, gazing upon the nude fox woman reflected back.
She had woken up twenty minutes prior with her head spinning, desperately attempting to process the subject matter of her therapy session the previous day. The woman in the mirror was objectively gorgeous, with wide hips, a tight waist, a petite build, and well-shaped breasts. She hesitantly touched one of her soft, expressive ears and then slid her fingers through the fluff of her sandy, fluffy tail. The sensitivity of these appendages caused her to shiver and faintly blush before looking at her reflection once more.
She briefly envisioned a gorgeous woman touching her-- caressing her sides, cupping her breast, sliding her fingers below her waist. The mental image caused a warm tingle to manifest between her legs and she couldn’t deny how appealing such an encounter would be-- how appealing her encounter with Gretchen had been.
She then sighed and proceeded on to the next brief fantasy. Despite some reservations, she imagined a large, muscular male figure touching her with his thick hands, going through the same motions. In response, the tingling intensified, her nipples hardening just slightly. The fantasy progressed and she suddenly thought of him grasping the base of his impressive, erect cock. What would he do with it? Why was she curious?
Now beet-red, she shook her head and slapped her hands onto her cheeks. “Dr. Patel said it’s normal-- it’s normal to change and feel confused,” she muttered out loud, trying to reassure herself that these conflicting emotions were normal and healthy.
“Whatever, I’ll worry about it later,” she grunted, deciding not to stress herself out too badly. Freaking out wouldn’t change a thing and it wasn’t like she had any real control of whatever happened to her sexuality.
There were more important matters at hand. For example, Chris planned on attempting to go out on her own and do some shopping. She had been relying on Rodrick and Gretchen to get her through her day to day life, but she was eager to regain some independence.
Chris sighed as she opened the door and nervously walked into Rainboutique, the clothing store that specializes in helping those who have been through transience. She glanced around nervously, clasping her wrist as she contemplated whether or not it had been a good idea to come here. Still incredibly self-conscious, she was wearing a pair of slightly baggy capri pants and a shirt that hung loose on her body.
Carrie, the devilish woman who assisted Chris previously, looked up from the rack she was putting clothes on and blinked upon seeing the repeat customer. “Oh!” She smiled brightly and nearly skipped over to Chris. “Welcome! Chris, right? I remember helping you,” she said warmly, her red devil tail gently swaying.
“O-- Oh, I remember you as well… Carrie,” she said after taking a moment to recall her name. “Honestly, I'm not really sure what I’m doing here.”
“Understandable,” Carrie nodded, brushing a couple of fingers through her short, deep red hair. “I’d guess a part of you must be interested in buying new clothes, right? You’re not here with your boyfriend this time; maybe you’re here to get something he might like?” She teased, raising an eyebrow.
Chris blinked, her face turning crimson as she quickly shook her head. “It-- it’s not like that at all! He’s one of my best friends and you know I was-- err… A man until recently; at least I think I told you,” she huffed, feeling frustrated toward her overly animated reaction to the gentle teasing.
“Sooorry,” Carrie laughed. “That was too much; I apologize,” she insisted. “What were you thinking of wearing? I’ll help in any way I can--,” she glanced toward her phone screen before slipping it back into her pocket. “For the next half an hour! I only stay open for half a day on Sunday.”
Chris nodded. “Fair enough; everyone deserves a break,” she said gently before considering the question. She was here for new clothes, right? She thought about all the different types of clothing she found appealing on women and then tried to envision herself in a variety of outfits. When push came to shove, she felt like it would be a massive shame to only wear baggy, boyish clothing when her body turned out so nicely after transience. “I guess I feel like I should wear clothes that at least look okay on this body-- I’m kinda cute or whatever, but I don’t want to start wearing frilly dresses. I’m a little confused,” she admitted while scratching her head nervously, her ears tapering down.
“I can’t imagine the amount of confusion you must go through on a daily basis… Honesty, you're kinda awesome,” Carrie insisted with a sly grin.
“I’m awesome?” Chris blinked and tilted her head. “I guess one might think ‘Hey, a fox girl, that’s awesome!’, but I don’t think there’s anything awesome about me beyond that superficial level,” she sighed.
“Those fox traits are pretty damned awesome… But that’s not what I mean,” Carrie laughed and shook her head. “For someone who went through such a severe case of transience, you seem to be holding it together nicely. On the topic of clothes, I’d be happy to help you find something nice.”
“Oh-- well, I appreciate it,” Chris softly replied, feeling flustered by the compliment. “I’m trying; it’s pretty rough, but there are worse fates than what I’ve been dealt.”
“You know. I get off soon, maybe we’d make good friends. If you’re going to live as a woman, it’s important to form more female bonds,” the sales clerk insisted with a wide grin.
Chris almost took a step back, shocked by the offer. “You want to be my friend?” She asked skeptically. The only female friend she had was Gretchen-- someone she had very complicated feelings toward along with a sexual relationship. It might not be a bad thing for her to make new female connections, especially with someone who knew she was once male and didn’t seem bothered by it. “You know what? Sure, why not,” she weakly laughed. “If you can handle how awkward I am, I think we could try the whole friendship thing.”
“Perfect!” Carrie beamed. “Now, clothes. What were you thinking? How do you feel about thigh-highs?” She asked.
“I love them-- on other women, I mean,” Chris quickly replied while holding her hands up. “Are you serious?”
“You’re petite, but your legs are long and have a wonderful shape; I think you’d pull off the look perfectly.”
Chris opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself and sighed in resignation. “I’ll give it a shot if you think it’s a good idea.”
In a matter of minutes, Chris was ushered into a dressing room with a few different items of clothing. She took a deep breath and stripped down, first grabbing one of the tops and pulling it on. It was black and well-fitted with the neckline slightly lower than a typical shirt without exposing her breasts. “Fits-- well, I suppose,” she blushed faintly, feeling the cloth hug her body.
Without wasting further time, she slid the black shorts up and pulled them over her supple rear and hips, wincing as she adjusted them into place and zipped them up while feeding her tail through the hole. She still wasn't used to how female shorts and pants fit-- hugging every contour snugly and constantly reminding her of what was between her legs. Despite her minor annoyance, she was somewhat excited to see how well she pulled off the look.
Finally, she carefully slid one of the dark thigh-high socks onto her feet and pulled it up, taking time to un-bunch it when necessary and to make sure it lay properly. The silky fabric against her thigh sent a warm tingle through her, causing her to squirm slightly in response to her body’s sensitivity.
Finally, she got both thigh-highs into place and slipped on the red Mary Jane shoes Carrie provided her with. After taking a deep breath, she hesitantly looked at the mirror, a look of disbelief on her face. Everything fit her so well; the shorts, top, socks, and shoes were all very feminine and her body’s natural shape and curves were on full display, with her fluffy tail gently swaying back and forth. “Oh-- huh…” She blushed and shifted to get a view of her backside, unwittingly admiring the curve of her back and the supple shape of her rear end.
After opening the dressing room door, she stepped out and fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, ears bashfully tapered. “What do you think?”
Carrie beamed as she approached the lovely fox woman. “Absolutely perfect… It’s honestly hard to believe you were ever a man; do you know how many women would kill to be this cute? Fluffy tails and ears like yours are also highly desirable,” she added, walking around the vixen in a slow circle as she carefully inspected her.
“I’ve heard a couple of times how cute I apparently am,” Chris muttered in response, unsure of how to feel. To make things more complicated, she feared she was steadily progressing through a hormonal cycle. Mild cramps, strange tingly sensations, increased sensitivity, and random bouts of heightened arousal had been plaguing her over the last couple of days, only serving to make her more confused than before.
“Yeah, I’m not surprised,” Carrie nodded in agreement. “Tell you what-- I’ll put this outfit on your tab and give you half off. Why don’t you wear it out and you can pay later?” She suggested with a warm smile.
Did Chris want to be seen in public wearing cute clothes? After biting her lip and briefly mulling it over, she nodded. So what if people thought she looked nice? There was nothing wrong with looking good, right? It wasn’t like she chose to turn out this way after coming down with transience. For some reason, the idea of men and women alike discreetly taking notice of her attractiveness appealed to her on some primal level. ‘Being female is complicated,’ she lamented in response to her emotions.
Chris and Carrie drove separately back to Chris’s apartment, which was closer, before getting in Carrie’s car. After driving off together, the devilish woman peered toward Chris with a sly grin. “I know an amazing salon. Why don’t we get you a nice haircut?”
Chris recalled Gretchen asking when she’d get the chance to take her out to do these things; would she be upset if she did so with another woman? No-- surely, Gretchen of all people would understand that matters of comfort could prove complicated when it came to someone who went through severe transience. The fact that Gretchen could go a little overboard and that they were in a sexual relationship also made her nervous to do such things with her, even if she didn’t fully comprehend why. “Err… Do you think it’s a good idea?” She asked coyly, pulling her tail onto her lap.
“Of course. I promise you’ll feel better if you do; it’s not like you can ignore your hair forever, right?”
She had a point. “I guess you’re right,” Chris conceded. “Yeah, let’s give it a shot-- why not?” She forced a smile and shifted anxiously. In her old body, she’d just shave her hair off when it became too unruly; it hadn’t been a particularly important part of her identity. As a woman, the thought of doing that sent a shiver down her spine. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she wanted to take proper care of her hair from now on. It was more than that, though-- she wanted to pay more attention to her appearance in general now.
“You won’t regret it,” Carrie assured as she turned right at the light and went down another street.
Before they got too far, Chris noticed police cars here and there on the side of the road. She raised an eyebrow and focused forward, seeing that they were creeping up on a police barricade of some kind. Multiple police vehicles blocked the road and a few officers stood by, eyeing their car as they approached.
“What the hell?” Carrie muttered, rolling down her window as she slowed and saw an officer approaching. “Hey! I’m trying to get to my favorite salon-- is Birchmont Road closed?”
“We have four blocks closed off right now; you’ll have to turn around and find another way,” the male officer said curtly. “Apologies, ma’am.”
Chris peered past the barricade, seeing broken windows on a nearby business, with broken glass strewn about. More disturbingly, her keen sense of smell detected a stagnant, metallic scent. ‘Blood?... Not used to being a dog,’ she mused while shifting in her seat. “Officer-- may I ask what the issue is?”
The officer shifted on his feet and shifted his eyes toward the crime scene before looking at Chris. “All I can say right now is that there was some type of wild life attack-- think something along the lines of exotic animals that shouldn’t be here. We have the situation under control and kindly request that you turn back and find another way around,” the officer insisted. “Thanks for understanding.”
“Yeah, yeah-- sure,” Carrie sighed. “Thanks, I understand.” With that she backed up and turned, driving a little ways before stopping to pull up Google Maps. “I’ll find another route; one second,” she muttered as the tip of her devil tail flicked about.
Chris remained silent, looking back over her shoulder toward the police barricade. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something seemed very wrong. Buried deep within her mind, a nearly inaudible whisper wafted through her subconscious while the air hung thick with a sanguine scent and a peculiar energy.
CHAPTER END
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