Feeling Woxie
(1/2/2009)

My cell phone rings distracting me from what I was doing. I look at the display. It’s Lucky, “Guess what?”

“What,” I asked.

“We’re going to go meet a friend of mine.”

“Really?”

“Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Well, tomorrow is today, and I head out to meet him. I wait and wait, but he doesn’t show. Just as I’m about to give up on him a depressed female black furred wolf shuffles up. I look at the familiar white haired wolf in familiar clothes. “Lucky,” I ask.

“Yes,” he, I mean she, grumbles.

We start walking. “What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Concerned, I ask, “Are you ok?”

“I’ll live.”

Having never been transgendered myself I ask, “Are you … ? Does it … ?”

“I’m still me. Yes, it does feel different. It takes some getting used to.”

“Do you ever get used to it?”

With a smirk he replies, “No.”

“Ok. Thanks.”

He stops, “We’re here.”

I look from the sidewalk to the slightly overgrown grass to the walkway to the front door. “This is where he lives?”

“Yes.” We head up to the front door and knock.

“Coming,” calls a female voice within. Finally the door opens to reveal a very pregnant fox girl.

Surprised I ask, “This is your friend?”

He smiles, “Uncle Ben, this is Woxie. Woxie, this is Uncle Ben.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I tell her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she replies with a smile. “Please, come inside.” Both of you do, and then she turns to Lucky, “I see you had an accident. Would you like some help with that?”

“Yes, but no hugging! It would be easier to mow your lawn with the strength of a guy.”

“Tea,” she asks Lucky.

“Sure.”

“Tea, Uncle Ben?”

“No thanks.”

“Would you like something to drink, like coffee?”

“Bleck. That stuff tastes awful. Water, please?”

“Will flavored water be fine?”

“Sure!” Lucky raises an eyebrow but says nothing.

Woxie waddles back in with a steaming drink that she hands to Lucky and a cold one she gives to me. It’s an orangish color like her fur. I look over at Lucky who seems to become more masculine with each sip. I take a sip of mine. It has a taste that I can’t quite identify. There’s the tang of the orange and the sweetness of strawberry. “What flavor,” I ask lifting my eyes to see she’s gone and then my voice trails off, “is this?”

Her voice replies from the kitchen, “Orange Strawberry Surprise.” She returns with her own cup of steaming liquid.

“Oh. Is that like the one with banana?”

“A little like that.” Lucky finishes up his drink, flexes him muscles, and takes his cup into the kitchen.  She lugs her heavy belly slowly to the couch in the living room. Upon plopping into place, she waves me over, “Come over here. Have a seat. Let’s get to know each other.” I take a seat in the padded chair to one side. Lucky leaves through the front door. Shortly thereafter a lawn mower starts up.

I nervously look at her pregnant belly. “So, how are you and Lucky friends?” Nervous, I take another drink of the water.

“We both like stories.”

“Me too!”

She smiles as I drink some more, “Well, that’s good. I like to tell stories.”

“I love to hear stories. Could you tell me one?” I move to the edge of the chair in excitement.

“Sure. Come on over here,” she pats a large spot next to her on the couch, “The stories are better if I don’t have to strain.” I stand up and take a step forward. “Let’s see. How about ‘Show and Tell’?”

“Ish zat on deeveeant art?” My voice comes out funny.

“Yeah, but it’s better if you hear it in person. Sometimes I change it a little.”

My face feels all tickly. With my right hand I try to scratch but hand doesn’t work right and smooshes up against my cheek. I try rubbing, but all that happens it that my palm curls my fingers taking my cheek with it. With effort I try to focus my thoughts. I look at her, and she and the sofa seem to sway. “I’s feellllling woxie.” It takes a moment, but I realize what I said. I correct myself, “Nnnnooooo,” I giggle, “I’sh feeeelllling wooshy.” “Woosee.”

“You are feeling woozy, huh? It’ll be over it a minute.” She pats the spot next to her again, “Just come sit down.” Another step and I barely manage to right myself before falling. I cross the last step, but it is too much for my dizzy head and upset equilibrium to handle. I do the only thing I can, turn around to land on my posterior.

A sharp pain in my hind quarters jolts me out of my stupor, "OW!" I bolt upright. I lose my balance again and start falling forward.  

“Hold on there, Honey.” The same pain in the backside strikes as I stop falling forward. It intensifies and then stops as I start heading back to the couch. This time when I sit there is no pain.

Something furry brushes against my right arm. I look down and see Woxie holding her tail. She offers it to me. Intrigued I follow it to the back of me. “But I don't have a tail." I blurt out a little confused.

She smiles, “Oh, but have I got a tale for you.” My tail sways to my amazement.

I look at the other pregnant fox … Other pregnant fox? I look down at myself quickly. Mammaries, large swollen belly, muzzle. “I’m. I’m. You!”

“No, I’m me, but you’d make a fine twin.”

My mind grinds to a stop with questions. Finally one surfaces, “How did this happen?”

“Your drink. And before you ask, it happened on the way over to the sofa. And it’s not permanent.”

Remembering my conversation with Lucky on the way here, I relax and place my arms on my belly. I pause, “Will I … ? Am I … ?”

She smirks, “That depends on how long you are here.”

“What?!?”

“Just kidding. I did that so you could relax and not be so worried about what to say.” I think about it and realize that what she says is true. I don’t have to worry about being transformed. I don’t have to worry about saying something wrong. I feel comfortable. “Anything else?”

I shake my head no and pay careful attention to her. She begins, “Show and Tell. That’s an old one. Let’s see … How does that one begin? Oh yes …

‘It had been another boring Friday at college, and he was glad when he could finally collapse onto his bed. Lying on his back, staring at the ceiling he let out a long sigh and found himself drifting off to sleep, his eyelids slowly closing.’”

And with that she began to spin a tale that has me trapped as my ears reach for every word and my eyes are riveted to her gestures and facial expressions. The story unfolds as a wonderful movie in my head.

And all too soon she concludes with, “A grin spreads across his face.
‘I’ll do better than that, mate…I’ll show you…’”

I wait a moment as my mind takes it in, compares the various parts of the story, and reaches a verdict, “Wow! That was amazing. The way you hinted at the transformation before it happened. Wow!” I look over at her with my face aglow with excitement.

She is smiling back. “I’m glad you liked it.”

I stop and think. This was fun. She’s pretty cool. “Can we be friends?”

“Certainly.”

I bite my lip as a sudden thought comes to mind, “I’d love to tell you one of mine, but I don’t have many yet.”

“Don’t worry. They will come. You want to hear another?”

Excited once more, “Sure!”

“How about ‘That Which Survives’?”

“Ooooo, is that one on Deviant Art, too?”

“Nope. This one you can only get from me.”

“Alright!” I snuggle down into the couch a little more next to my friend.

I smile as she begins, “Date: July 2008 – 1st entry. Jonathan Camperton. That’s my name. Although, I’ll be honest, I don’t think it’s going to matter much. I mean, I’m only writing this to fill the time. I don’t expect this to be read.”

Oh! This is going to be good.