Waking Up

It was al­ready late morn­ing when the woman stirred. There was sun on her thigh, and it felt warm, but not un­com­fort­able. Every part of her felt warm, the bed was soft, and the pil­low be­neath her head was nice. She rubbed her cheek against it, and it felt sur­pris­ing­ly pleas­ant to do so, so she did it some more. Some­thing about it was soft­er than she re­mem­bered.

She stretched. Her nails dug into the fab­ric of the bed­sheets as she arched her back, and she yawned a yawn wider than she thought pos­si­ble. She had not yet opened her eyes, but she found in her move­ments that she was not be­neath any cov­ers, and she fig­ured she must have kicked them off dur­ing the night, but she felt aw­ful­ly snug de­spite that. She might have even fall­en back asleep if her stom­ach hadn’t growled, and she re­al­ized she was fam­ished. Had she eat­en the night be­fore? Her drowsy mind couldn’t re­mem­ber.

Slow­ly, her round, brown eyes flut­tered open, and she rubbed them with her hands. Her hands felt strange… or did her face feel strange? Or maybe both? She pulled them apart and held her palms in front of her, and she was so sur­prised by the sight that she made a rather un­fa­mil­iar yelp­ing sound that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end… and the hair on the rest of her body, too. Star­ing at her own shape, she was in­stant­ly en­am­ored by what she saw: grace­ful curves cov­ered in short, vel­vety, blue and white fur.

She quick­ly sat up on her knees and turned her neck to look down her back (some­thing she found she was able to do with much greater ease than she re­mem­bered), and her heart leapt when she saw what she was look­ing for: a tail. The very sight of it made her so emo­tion­al that tears formed in the cor­ners of her eyes. She had longed for this for so many years, lament­ed its ab­sence for hours at a time, but now she had it, and a sin­gle stroke of it with her soft, white palm con­firmed that it was both real and a part of her. She sat up and spun round so she could see her­self in the full-length mir­ror on the far wall of her bed­room, and the sight of her beau­ti­ful new body took her breath away.

Slow­ly, one small mo­tion at a time, she crawled to­wards her own un­fa­mil­iar re­flec­tion, as if too quick a move­ment might break the spell. She slipped off the bed onto the car­pet­ed floor and watched in rev­er­ence as her re­flec­tion moved with the grace of a for­est an­i­mal. As she drew clos­er, she could see every de­tail of her in­cred­i­ble fig­ure, from her toned mus­cu­la­ture to her sharp claws to the point­ed, fuzzy ears that sat on the top of her head. She was gor­geous, per­fect, lit­er­al­ly flaw­less, and the sight of her own beau­ty com­bined with the re­al­iza­tion that this was real­ly her had be­gun to turn her on some­thing fierce. So much so, in fact, that when the cozy home’s sec­ond in­hab­i­tant tip­toed into the bed­room, she was first greet­ed by a mar­velous sight: the raised rear end of a sap­phire fox-woman, tail lift­ed just high enough to see her cunt wet­ter than it had ever been when she was hu­man, her hands pressed against the glass of the mir­ror as if she were about to make out with the muz­zle in her re­flec­tion.

“You’re awake,” she said, her voice soft but un­able to en­tire­ly con­tain her ex­cite­ment.

The fox girl was not star­tled. Al­though her wife had done her very best to walk soft­ly on the car­pet, her ears had heard her foot­falls well be­fore she reached the bed­room door, and her nose had smelled her be­fore that. In­deed, the scents were what amazed her most of all. Her hear­ing and vi­sion were like be­fore, only more keen, but the depth of sen­sa­tion she felt through her new nose made her re­al­ize she had nev­er tru­ly smelled be­fore. Some smells were fa­mil­iar, like the musky smell of her wife’s arousal, the warm, but­tery wafts of a light­ly toast­ed bagel, and the crisp smell of fresh­ly cut grass blow­ing in through the win­dow from their neigh­bor’s lawn across the street, but oth­ers were new, or at least dif­fi­cult to place. Most were pleas­ant, how­ev­er, and they made her ea­ger to ex­plore… but at the mo­ment, there was some­thing else much more press­ing.

She turned to look her soul­mate in the eye, and the fur around her own was vis­i­bly wet. They moved with­out speak­ing, and as the blue vix­en rose to her feet on shaky legs (but with lit­tle fear of stum­bling), Lena wrapped her arms around her changed body, en­tire­ly naked apart from her thin coat of fur, and held her close. It was sev­er­al mo­ments be­fore any­one spoke, and even then, it was only a whis­per.

“Is this a dream?”

Lena moved a hand up her wife’s soft, fur­ry back, along the gen­tle curve of her neck, and around the top of her head, upon which she found her ears and slow­ly be­gan to scratch just be­hind them. “As real as I am, my love,” she whis­pered back, and she grinned as she watched the woman she loved shud­der be­neath her touch.

“Oh my god,” the fox woman said with a smile. “I knew we agreed to make them sen­si­tive, but it’s sur­re­al to ac­tu­al­ly feel it.”

She didn’t stop her scratch­ing, and she moved her left hand to the swell of her ex­ot­ic new com­pan­ion’s butt. “Do you know what I think is sur­re­al, dar­ling?” she asked. “You’re purring.”

And she was. If her cheeks weren’t cov­ered in blue fur, it would have been easy to see her blush, as she soon re­al­ized she had lit­tle con­trol over the deep, rum­bling sound that was com­ing from her chest, but she wouldn’t have want­ed to stop it even if she did. “Mis­tress…” she breathed, and for the first time in her life, the word felt com­plete­ly and ut­ter­ly nat­ur­al on her lips.

“Pet.” Her voice was firm, but her face was beam­ing, and nei­ther of them could real­ly hide their gid­di­ness.

The she-vix­en breathed an­oth­er few gulps of the won­der­ful scent of the woman who was now as much her own­er as she was her part­ner, and she leaned in close to whis­per some­thing in her ear: “You have no idea how fuck­ing wet I am right now.”

In truth, Lena had some idea, both be­cause she knew as well as her pet did that they made sure she would al­ways be slick and be­cause that slick­ness was cur­rent­ly leak­ing onto her thigh, but there was no deny­ing she was ea­ger to learn more. “Well, we are here,” she smiled, nod­ding in the di­rec­tion of the bed. “Are you sure you’re ready? You’ve been out for a long time, and I real­ly wouldn’t mind if you want­ed to eat first or get co—”

She nev­er got to fin­ish that sen­tence, as a split sec­ond lat­er she found her­self prac­ti­cal­ly thrown onto the bed, with a crea­ture she’d have found ex­tra­or­di­nar­i­ly in­tim­i­dat­ing were it not for the twin­kling fa­mil­iar­i­ty in those big, pret­ty eyes of hers soft­en­ing the sharp in­ten­si­ty of her fangs. “I am your pet, for real now. You are go­ing to fuck me.”

“Y-Yes, pet,” she said, gig­gling slight­ly. “You don’t need to tell me twice.” And in­deed, as much as she cared for the hap­pi­ness and well-be­ing of the woman dear­est to her more than she cared for her own life, she had been want­i­ng to do this since be­fore they’d left the hos­pi­tal. It was all she could do to mas­tur­bate be­side her while she ad­mired her body rather than ac­tu­al­ly make love to her while she slept her drugged-up sleep. But now? This was her wife, alert and aroused, the same sub­mis­sive lit­tle slut she’d al­ways been, but now with a body and mind that match. And as she ran her fin­gers through her fur, over her curves and along her love­ly breasts, she found her­self amazed with the beau­ty she held be­fore her eyes.

As for the vix­en her­self, she was bare­ly con­scious of her sur­round­ings. The arousal she felt from the close­ness to her mis­tress and the smell of her de­sire had whipped her into some­thing of a trance, where all that mat­tered was plea­sure and pleas­ing. She en­cour­aged it, to be sure, but she al­ways had—she’d al­ways done her best to play pre­tend. This was dif­fer­ent. The hor­mones pump­ing through her veins made sure of that. She felt like an an­i­mal, be­cause she was… and she was go­ing into heat.

What hap­pened that morn­ing was some­thing of a blur to her, but she re­mem­bered the feel­ing of her mis­tress’s hands and lips on every spot on her body, the sweet nec­tar of her mis­tress’s hon­ey­pot, and the strange­ly thick taste of her own. She growled like an an­i­mal and begged like a slut, she whim­pered like a fox and sighed like a woman, and most im­por­tant­ly, she came. Good­ness how she came. The feel­ing was not mere­ly a cli­max but an ex­tend­ed state of be­ing, some­thing that did not end but mere­ly in­ten­si­fied and mul­ti­plied her plea­sure and her de­sire. It grew so in­tense that she came just from tast­ing their juices on each oth­er’s lips, and from gen­tly grind­ing her cunt against her mis­tress’s thigh while they cud­dled to­geth­er in bed, and as the warm, fuzzy pas­sion start­ed to re­treat from all as­pects of her mind, she re­mem­bered that the woman she was cud­dling with was the girl she’d mar­ried all those years ago, this was their home, and she could not wish for a bet­ter own­er in all the world.

“I hope it was every­thing you hoped it would be,” Lena mur­mured, run­ning her fin­gers through soft, blue hair. “Some­times I won­dered, ‘Af­ter fan­ta­siz­ing for so long, could any­thing real­ly live up to our ex­pec­ta­tions?’”

The fox lift­ed her snout and nuz­zled against a soft, pale cheek. She could feel her mis­tress’s heart­beat be­neath her, and its rhythm was sooth­ing. She did not im­me­di­ate­ly re­ply, but sim­ply peered into those sparkling blue eyes she’d grown to love and stud­ied the soft lines on her dear­est lover’s face. Af­ter see­ing her smile, she did not need to ask for her an­swer. She set­tled back into a cozy spot upon the woman’s shoul­der and soft­ly purred. “You couldn’t make me give this up for any­thing,” she said, wrap­ping her arms around Lena that much tighter.

“You don’t know how hap­py it makes me to hear that, dar­ling,” Lena said, sev­er­al of those wrin­kles fad­ing from her face. “I know it was your de­ci­sion more than any­one’s but I al­ways wor­ried… is this real­ly right? What if this was just what I want­ed, but it’s easy for me to say, see­ing as its your body…”

The vix­en atop her snort­ed. “My body? You’re damn right it is!” She sat up, stretched, and bared her fangs, then ran her claws along her chest and cupped her breasts. “Dear,” she said, “this body is the one I was meant to have. I feel like my­self. Whether you were here or not, this would be a child­hood dream come true… and yet—” She nes­tled back down into her own­er’s em­brace and play­ful­ly licked her cheek. “Well, I can’t help but feel it just wouldn’t be any­where near the same with­out a mis­tress to take care of me.”

“Aw,” Lena said, nuz­zling against her pet’s damp, black nose. “You al­ways have been such a very good girl.”

There was one of those shud­ders again, and the purring got no­tice­ably loud­er. “Ooh. That will take some get­ting used to,” she grinned. “There is one thing, though,” she said look­ing sud­den­ly very se­ri­ous. “Some­thing I’ve been turn­ing over in my head since wak­ing up.”

“Oh?” Lena asked, look­ing a lit­tle wor­ried once more.

“Well, it’s a lit­tle em­bar­rass­ing, real­ly,” she said, look­ing at the wall, her tail curled around her waist. “I don’t re­mem­ber my name.”

“You don’t— sweet­ie.” Lena smirked a lit­tle and gave her fox a kiss on her bright, blue cheek. “You al­most had me for a mo­ment there—I feel a lit­tle em­bar­rassed to not have re­al­ized that of course you’ve been role­play­ing this en­tire time. And here I was, so en­am­ored that I for­got for a mo­ment how good at this you’ve got­ten over the years. It’s just, well, with the fur and every­thing, I sup­pose I got a lit­tle too into it, but—”

“Lena, I’m se­ri­ous.” She picked up one of her hands and squeezed it. “If I’m play­ing pre­tend, dar­ling, then it’s only be­cause I’ve done it for so long that it’s be­come real in my head. But per­son­al­ly… I think it’s more than wish­ful think­ing.”

Lena ad­mired the way the light glis­tened off her wife’s soft fur, and she had a hard time real­ly tak­ing in all her words, but she man­aged it. “Well, I’m sure some of it is, at least,” she said. “Gosh, you’re even still drool­ing. I hope my sta­mi­na doesn’t dis­ap­point you now… but good­ness, I’m get­ting dis­tract­ed again al­ready. As much as I love and trust you to a fault, hon­ey, I know you can’t have real­ly for­got­ten your own name, and you don’t have to pre­tend. We can use an­oth­er one from now on if you’d pre­fer, of course.”

“No, you don’t un­der­stand,” she said, and in the brief si­lence that fol­lowed, it was all too no­tice­able that her purring had stopped. “I can’t re­mem­ber it. I don’t even know what let­ter it starts with. It’s been wor­ry­ing me a lit­tle bit, but as far as I can tell, I haven’t for­got­ten any­thing else ob­vi­ous. I re­mem­ber oth­er de­tails about my old self… but this? I’m com­plete­ly draw­ing a blank.”

Lena tilt­ed her head. “That is aw­ful­ly odd. I don’t re­mem­ber ei­ther of us de­cid­ing some­thing like that. Would… would you like me to re­mind you?”

“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it? Maybe I don’t want to know.”

“Sure­ly you’ll find out even­tu­al­ly. There are plen­ty of ob­jects in this house with your name on them, not to men­tion peo­ple who know who you are, and…”

“Yeah?”

Lena paused, and she stud­ied her wife’s face. She could still make out ████’s fea­tures in them, from her coy smile to her live­ly eyes, but she had to ad­mit, she would nev­er have guessed with­out al­ready know­ing that be­ing a slut­ty an­i­mal-woman pet was her wife’s deep­est fan­ta­sy. “Well, I sup­pose maybe not. But I still think you’ll find out even­tu­al­ly.”

“Maybe,” she ad­mit­ted. “You’re prob­a­bly right. But hon­est­ly, it’s not that I’m ter­ri­bly wor­ried about.”

“No? I thought you said—”

The sap­phire vix­en shook her head and plant­ed a kiss on her lover’s cheek. “I’m not sad I for­got my old name. I’m sad that I don’t have a new one.”

“Hm.” It was a sur­pris­ing­ly tricky ques­tion. “I sup­pose you don’t feel like me call­ing you some com­bi­na­tion of ‘pet’, ‘slut’, and ‘vix­en’ is sat­is­fy­ing, then?”

“Well… in a way, yes,” she said, in that won­der­ful­ly pret­ty voice that was clear­ly her own, yet some­how more play­ful than it had ever been. “I don’t need a name, strict­ly speak­ing. But I was think­ing, you know, if I were to wear a col­lar… wouldn’t we want a name to put on it?”

“A col­lar?” In spite of every­thing that had hap­pened, some­how that was what it took to make Lena blush. “You real­ly are an in­cor­ri­gi­ble whore, you know that?” she laughed. “But no mat­ter—I think you do de­serve a name. One that suits the real you. Af­ter all, own­ers do name their pets, don’t they?”

The pet in ques­tion nod­ded her head con­fi­dent­ly, and she wagged her tail in fur­ther agree­ment.

“Well, we’ll have to find you one, then, and I’ll have a col­lar made just for you, al­right? I think we can find some­thing un­der­stat­ed­ly sexy, don’t you?”

“Every­one should know I am my mis­tress’s pet,” said the fox, cud­dling against her dar­ling. “And even a to­tal slut has just one own­er.”

“She cer­tain­ly does,” Lena smiled, re­turn­ing to scratch­ing her won­der­ful girl be­tween the ears. She imag­ined this would all feel a lot stranger if the two of them hadn’t been pre­tend­ing all this to be true for so many years that her poor wife had very near­ly called her “mis­tress” in pub­lic more times than Lena could re­mem­ber. The few times she had ac­tu­al­ly done it with­out catch­ing her­self were aw­ful­ly em­bar­rass­ing for both of them, but the sheep­ish blush on her dar­ling’s adorable face was usu­al­ly enough to make it worth it. Now, it just felt like re­al­i­ty had fi­nal­ly caught up with them. “Though, dar­ling, I won­der… are you real­ly still plan­ning to fuck oth­er peo­ple?”

“Why?” She looked up at her mis­tress, un­sure of her­self. “Do you not want me to?”

“Well…” Lena said, search­ing for the right words, “I wouldn’t say that, no. I sup­pose I might feel a tiny bit jeal­ous, but you are still mine, and I know I can have as much of you as I want. I’m sure I’d get over it quick­ly. I guess I’m more wor­ried about you than I am about me! It’s just… well, it was al­ways the part of the fan­ta­sy you seemed most am­biva­lent about.”

The slut in her lap sighed, and she sat qui­et­ly for a mo­ment. “Hon­est­ly, love, I wasn’t all that sure about it my­self, right up un­til the de­ci­sion was made. But I have to say: sit­ting here right now, even af­ter all that fuck­ing… I am real­ly, real­ly horny.”

“Is that so?” Lena grinned, pulled her fox clos­er to her, and start­ed to light­ly mas­sage her breasts. “Tell me more.”

“Mrrn… th-that doesn’t hurt, let me tell you,” she mur­mured, try­ing to fo­cus. “But yeah, I mean… there’s not much to say, is there? I guess even I couldn’t ful­ly pre­pare my­self for what hav­ing a slut­ty, an­i­mal sex dri­ve ac­tu­al­ly feels like.” She squirmed a lit­tle against Lena’s body and rubbed her thighs to­geth­er con­spic­u­ous­ly. “I love you, mis­tress—with all my heart and then some—but I think we both know you’re not go­ing to be able to sat­is­fy me on your own, and…” She shiv­ered. “Well, hon­est­ly dear, the thought used to make me un­easy, but right now at least, it sounds real­ly, real­ly fuck­ing hot. I… hope you un­der­stand.”

“Dar­ling,” Lena laughed, “I’ve found the idea as hot as I ever have.” She guid­ed her fin­gers down be­tween the slut-vix­en’s sticky, fur­ry thighs and slipped them be­tween wet, hot folds. “And when my pet’s hap­py, I’m hap­py.”

And be­tween the slick­ness of her cunt and the vol­ume of her purrs, there was no ques­tion about it: her pet was one aw­ful­ly hap­py fox.