"You're disgusting," Anna whispered to the girl in the mirror, her fingers tracing the sharp angle of her own hipbone. The reflection stared back at her, pixie-cut hair sticking up in uneven tufts, oversized shirt swallowing her frame like a shameful secret. "No wonder nobody wants you."
She tugged at the hem of her shorts, pulling them higher just to watch the fabric strain against her thighs. "Too small," she muttered, though she knew they fit perfectly yesterday. Her stomach churned, hollow and tight, as she pressed her palms flat against the mirror, breath fogging the glass. "If you were prettier, maybe..."
A knock at the door. "Anna?" Her aunt's voice, syrup-thick with concern. "You've been in there an hour."
Anna's throat closed. She stepped back, the cold edge of the sink biting into her spine. "Almost done," she lied, hating how easily the words slid out. The mirror-girl's lips moved with hers, a silent accomplice.
Her sketchbook lay open on the toilet tank—half-finished, smudged lines of Marnie's house, the windows too wide, the porch slanting like a scream. Anna's fingers twitched toward the pencil. The reflection watched, judging, as she dragged the lead across the page, darkening the shadows until they swallowed the drawing whole.
"You're ruining it," she hissed, pressing harder. The pencil snapped. The sound echoed like a gunshot.
Outside, the wind picked up. The bathroom window rattled and than unlocked, unnoticed until now—and a tendril of violet smoke curled through the gap. It smelled like melting crayons and stolen glances. Anna recoiled, but the smoke surged forward, slipping between her lips, her nostrils, filling her lungs with the weight of unsaid words.
Her fingers went numb first. Then her toes. The mirror-girl's eyes widened as Anna's body lifted, toes grazing the tiles. A soundless gasp—her shirt billowed, her shorts strained at the seams, and then she was spinning, faster, faster, until the air hissed around her like a furious whisper. The sink, the mirror, the shattered pencil, all blurred into streaks of color as she became the storm.
The last thing she saw before the world dissolved was her own reflection, mouth open in a perfect O of surprise.
"Wait..." Anna gasped, her voice ricocheting off the tiles as her body lurched sideways. Her hip slammed into the sink, but the pain didn't register at all, only the bizarre lightness flooding her limbs. "Why am I..."
Her sketchbook pages fluttered wildly as she ricocheted off the shower curtain, knees knocking against porcelain. "Stopstopstop...!" The plea ripped from her throat, raw and panicked, just as her momentum stuttered. She hovered mid-air for one breathless second, toes barely grazing the bathmat, before gravity remembered her.
Anna crumpled to the floor in a heap, panting. Her fingers trembled against her thighs—except they weren't her thighs anymore. The sharp angles had softened, flesh yielding under her touch like warm clay. She watched, transfixed, as the line of her calves curved outward, smooth and deliberate as brushstrokes.
"You're... changing," she breathed to herself. Anna's shorts strained against new fullness, fabric biting into supple skin where before there'd been only space. A flush crept up her neck—not from fear now, but something hotter, stranger. The violet smoke coiled around her ankles, purring. "Pretty," it seemed to whisper. "See?"
Her fingers skated up the unfamiliar slope of her thigh, tracing the foreign softness. "I..." The denial died on her tongue when she shifted. Her hips rolled with an effortless sway that sent the bathroom mirror fogging anew. The girl reflected back had lips parted, pupils blown wide.
A creak outside the door. "Anna?" Her aunt's voice, closer now. "You're worrying me."
She clutched the sink, knuckles white, watching droplets from the tap streak her transformed legs. The sensation of water sliding down rounded curves made her gasp—like being touched by a stranger's mouth. The realization hit like the pencil snap: she wanted to see more.
"I'm fine!" Anna barked, too loud, flinching at the crack in her voice. Her aunt's shadow shifted under the door. "Just… dropped my sketchbook." The lie tasted like melting crayons, thick and waxy. She pressed a hand to her lower back, feeling the unfamiliar arch there, the way her spine now dipped dramatically before swelling into—
"Oh," she whispered, fingers skating over the rise of her own ass. The fabric of her shorts strained taut across plush flesh, seams protesting as she experimentally swayed. A jolt of something electric shot up her spine when she caught the reflection's movement—the slow, hypnotic bounce of her new curves, each shift sending ripples through muscle and fat like disturbed ink.
The violet smoke curled around her wrist, tugging her fingertips to trace the cleft where thigh met buttock. Anna's breath hitched. "Stop it," she hissed to the smoke, to her traitorous hands, to the way her body instinctively pressed into the touch. The mirror-girl's cheeks flushed darker than the bathroom tiles. Outside, her aunt sighed, footsteps retreating down the hall.
Anna exhaled, shoulders slumping in relief, but then tensed again as the motion made her new weight shift deliciously. A bead of sweat slid between her breasts, heavier than before. She swallowed hard, staring at the stranger in the glass. The stranger stared back, lips slick with something hungry.
"Not... not possible," she whispered, watching her reflection's chest rise with each shallow breath. The fabric of her shirt pulled tighter across her ribs, seams straining as if the threads themselves were gasping. A button popped, ricocheting off the tiles. Anna flinched. The mirror-girl didn't.
The violet smoke twined around her collarbones, whispering into her pulse points: *"Watch."* Her hands rose of their own accord—not her hands anymore, fingers longer, nails sharper—and cupped the impossible swell beneath her shirt.
"Ah...!" The sound punched out of her, too loud in the tiny bathroom. Her thumbs brushed over sensitive peaks hardening through thin cotton, sending jolts down to her toes. The mirror showed everything: the way her back arched on its own, how her hips rocked forward like they'd been waiting years for this.
"Too much," Anna gasped, even as her fingers kneaded deeper into yielding flesh. The reflection's mouth twisted in a smirk she'd never worn before. "You *liar,*" it whispered back.
Outside, the wind howled through the marsh. Somewhere far away, Marnie's house creaked on its stilts, windows glowing violet.
Anna's knees buckled as another button gave way, exposing pink-tipped curves that bounced with every ragged breath. The sensation of air on oversensitive skin made her whimper in half panic, half something darker. The smoke pressed closer, filling her mouth with the taste of melted wax and stolen midnight whispers.
"See how pretty?" it murmured, guiding her palms to trace the heavy undersides. Anna shuddered, nails scraping her own ribs. The mirror-girl's eyes glittered, knowing. "Not worthless now, are you?"
Her sketchbook pages fluttered open to a half-finished drawing—Marnie's silhouette, but the lines warped, the waist cinched impossibly small, the breasts overflowing the margins. Anna moaned, high and reedy, as her body mirrored the exaggeration.
The last button surrendered. Fabric slid away like a sigh.
Anna gasped, not at herself, but at the *absence* of shock. Her reflection stood proud, fox ears twitching atop her head as if they'd always been there. The tail flicked against the back of her thighs, fur brushing bare skin with each teasing sway. She reached back instinctively, fingers sinking into the lush brown fur, black tip curling around her wrist like a living ribbon.
"T...thick," she stammered, squeezing experimentally. The base where tail met spine pulsed under her touch, sending a jolt straight to her newly rounded hips. Her breath hitched—half from the sensation, half from the realization that she was *grinning*, sharp canines pressing into her lower lip. The mirror-girl's pupils were slitted now, hungry in a way that made Anna's stomach flip.
The violet smoke coiled around her tail, whispering against sensitive follicles. Anna arched—*truly* arched, her spine bending like a bowstring as the smoke teased the furred underside. "Nnh...!" Her nails scrabbled at the sink, leaving faint scratches in the porcelain. The tail lashed wildly, knocking her sketchbook to the floor where pages fluttered open to reveal Marnie's face—altered now, vulpine smirk matching Anna's own.
Outside, the marsh grasses hissed in time with her panting. Anna barely noticed. Her whole world narrowed to the mirror, to the way her new ears flattened when she moaned, to the slick heat gathering between thighs that *weren't hers but were*. The tail lifted her shorts higher, exposing the dimpled swell of her ass as it twitched with each pulse of pleasure.
"More," the smoke murmured—or maybe that was Anna herself, voice husky with a want she'd never dared name. The reflection licked her lips, tongue pointed and pink. The tail answered before Anna could, curling forward to brush the straining fly of her shorts. Fabric tore like rice paper.
"You..." Anna's protest dissolved into a whine as the tail's tip pressed insistently against her clit through damp cotton. "I don't..." Her hips jerked forward, chasing the pressure. The mirror-girl's nails dug into the sink, her own tail arching higher. "That's not..."
"A lie," the smoke whispered sweetly, twining around her throat. The tail's black tip darkened with slickness as it rubbed slow circles, each pass sending sparks up Anna's spine. "You've always wanted this." The mirror leaned closer, breath fogging the glass. "To take girls apart. To fill them up."
Anna's nostrils flared at the phantom scent of musk and salt—Marnie's neck, Sayaka's thighs, Yoriko's...
"Stop!" she gasped, but her hands fisted in her own hair, pulling her head back to expose the frantic pulse in her throat. The tail pressed harder, the friction burning deliciously through the ruined fabric. "I'm not..."
"Not what?" The reflection smirked, rolling her hips in time with the tail's movements. "Not wet? Not aching?" The smoke curled around Anna's wrist, guiding her hand down to the soaked cleft between her legs. "Not *hungry*?"
Anna's fingers spasmed against herself, the heat unbearable. The mirror-girl moaned first, high and shameless, and Anna echoed it without thinking, her back bowing as the tail's rhythm stuttered. The smoke purred approval, thickening between her thighs like syrup. "Good girl."
"Shut up," Anna panted, but her fingers scored the tile as pleasure crested. The reflection threw her head back, fox ears flat against messy hair, and Anna came with a sound that was half sob, half snarl, her tail lashing wildly as her vision whited out.
The smoke tasted like victory when it slid between her teeth.
Anna slumped against the sink, panting, tail twitching in lazy aftershocks—until the crash shook the house. Her fox ears snapped upright before she could process the sound, swiveling toward her bedroom where something heavy had just landed on her bed. The mattress springs screamed.
"God in heaven...!" The voice was rich, startled, utterly out of place. Anna's nostrils flared at the sudden invasion of perfume—roses crushed under a carriage wheel, sweat-slick silk, something dark and female underneath. Her fingers dug into the porcelain as her hips jerked forward of their own accord, still oversensitive.
She staggered into the hallway, tail lashing. The scent thickened, curling around her throat like a velvet noose. By the time she reached her bedroom door, her pupils had swallowed her irises whole. Inside, a woman in emerald taffeta thrashed against her quilt, her red hair a wildfire against Anna's monochrome sheets.
"What devilry is this?" Tremaine's gloves tore on the bedpost as she struggled upright. Her gown gaped at the neckline, revealing quivering breasts. Anna's tongue traced her fangs. The woman froze mid-curse, blue eyes locking onto Anna's twitching ears. "...Oh."
Anna's shorts were still damp when she pounced.
"You..." Tremaine's gasp turned to a shriek as Anna landed astride her thighs, pinning the emerald skirts with a rip of fabric. The scent of crushed roses surged between them like an opened artery, drowning out the last traces of bathroom smoke. Anna's tail lashed against Tremaine's stockinged calf, leaving a streak of slickness on the silk. "Christ alive, child, have you lost..." Tremaine's protest died when Anna leaned in, her new curves pressing flush against the older woman's torso, her nipples hard enough to dent the gold embroidery of Tremaine's bodice.
"Oh," Tremaine breathed, her wide eyes tracking the slow bounce of Anna's cleavage as she adjusted her balance. The fox ears twitched forward, catching every hitch in the woman's respiration. "You're... like a living painting" Her gloved hand hovered near Anna's hip, fingers flexing as if to measure the impossible swell of it through torn denim. Anna smirked—she could *smell* the older woman's pulse stuttering, could taste the salt of her dumbstruck arousal on the back of her tongue. The tail curled possessively around Tremaine's wrist, yanking it flush against the dip of Anna's waist.
"Living painting, hm?" Anna purred, watching Tremaine's pupils dilate as her fingers involuntarily traced the new, impossible indentation of her waist. The fox ears caught the hitch in Tremaine's breath when Anna rolled her hips experimentally, grinding the soaked fabric of her shorts against the woman's thigh. "Guess I'm someone's *masterpiece* now."
Tremaine's laugh came out strangled, her free hand scrambling to grip the headboard as Anna's tail slipped under her skirts. "You impossible little—ah!" The gloved fingers tightened in Anna's hair when the tail's black tip found silk garters. "God *damn* you..." The curse dissolved into a whimper as the tail lashed higher, curling around bare thigh with proprietary pressure. Anna licked her fangs, drunk on the way Tremaine's body arched against her will, the way her stays creaked as her back bowed off the mattress.
The sketchbook lay forgotten by the door, its pages fluttering open to reveal Marnie's face—altered now, vulpine smirk mirroring Anna's own.
"You can't possibly..." Tremaine's protest dissolved into a gasp as Anna's fingers curled around the first golden feather in her hair. "Stop that this instant!" But her gloved hands fluttered uselessly, trapped between Anna's thighs and her own heaving bodice. Anna tugged the ornament free with a slow, deliberate pull, letting Tremaine feel each strand of hair surrendering.
"I'm not going to," Anna murmured, tossing the feather aside. It landed on her discarded sketchbook, the gold catching the light like a wink. Tremaine's lips parted, whether to protest or moan, Anna couldn't tell, as her fingers found the second feather. "And you're..." The older woman's breath hitched when Anna leaned close, her fox ears brushing Tremaine's temples. "...so much prettier when you're speechless."
The third feather fell just as Tremaine's gloves tore against Anna's waist. "Madness," the woman panted, but her hips arched when Anna's tail slid higher beneath her skirts, the black tip tracing the crease of silk-clad thighs. "This isn't... oh!" The world tilted as Anna flipped them, her strength borne of violet smoke and stolen glances. Tremaine's golden dress pooled around her waist like molten sunlight.
Anna's fingers caught the neckline of Tremaine's gown. The fabric parted with a sigh, revealing peach skin flushed rose beneath. "Wait," Tremaine gasped, gloved hands finally finding purchase on Anna's shoulders—not pushing away, but anchoring. "You can't possibly want..."
"I can," Anna breathed against the hollow of Tremaine's throat, tasting salt and shattered propriety. Her fingers trailed lower, following the frantic pulse beneath velvet skin. The gown surrendered stitch by stitch, each rip echoing Tremaine's stuttered breaths. When the bodice gaped open, Anna paused—not to savor, but to watch Tremaine's face as cold air touched bare skin.
"You *animal*," Tremaine whimpered, back arching as Anna's tail found the clasp of her garters. The older woman's legs trembled—not from fear, Anna realized, but from the effort of keeping them clamped shut. A bead of sweat slid between Tremaine's breasts, tracing the path Anna's tongue would soon follow.
Anna grinned, fangs glinting. "You *like* animals." Her fingers tightened on the gown's waist seam. "Don't you?"
The rip was obscenely loud. Tremaine's gloves flew to her mouth—too late to muffle the cry as silk and taffeta tore away, leaving only stockings, corset, and the dark delta of curls between her thighs. Anna's tail flicked forward, pressing against damp silk where Tremaine's garters strained.
"Oh God," Tremaine sobbed into her gloves, but her hips rolled against the furred pressure. Anna watched the muscles of her stomach clench, watched her nipples peak against the corset's lace. Somewhere beneath layers of perfume and panic, Tremaine *scented* like the marsh at low tide—musk-slick and hungry.
Anna licked her fangs. "Not done yet." Her fingers found the corset's laces.
Tremaine's sob turned into a growl. "You vicious little..." The rest was lost in the rasp of tightening laces as Anna *pulled*, cinching the corset until Tremaine's gasps came shallow and sweet. Her breasts swelled above the embroidered edge, rosy flesh quivering with each labored breath. The tail's black tip circled her navel, leaving a glistening trail.
"Mine," Anna purred, pressing her fox ears against Tremaine's hammering heart. The older woman shuddered—not from cold, but from the vibrations of Anna's growl against her skin. Outside, the marsh house's windows glowed violet, though neither noticed. Tremaine's gloved fingers tangled in Anna's hair, tugging just hard enough to sting.
Anna's fingers traced the welt left by the corset's whalebone. Tremaine moaned—half pain, half prayer—as the tail's slick tip found the ruined edge of her stocking. The silk tore like a sigh.
"Wait..." Tremaine's protest ended in a whimper as Anna's fangs grazed her collarbone. "Not like this..."
"No?" Anna nipped higher, tasting the frantic pulse at Tremaine's throat. The older woman's thighs trembled against her ribs, her scent thickening like syrup in the August heat. Anna's tail curled possessively around a silk-clad calf, yanking it wide. "Then how?"
Tremaine's gloves muffled her scream as Anna's fingers shredded the last stocking. The sound dissolved into wet, ragged breaths when Anna pressed their foreheads together—fox ears flattening against silk-damp hair. "Tell me." Anna's lips brushed Tremaine's trembling ones, her breath tasting of melted crayons and the marsh at midnight. "How do you want it?"
"Like a *lady*," Tremaine gasped, then immediately whimpered when Anna's tongue dragged a slow stripe up her throat. The older woman's pulse jumped against the pointed tip, her skin pebbling under ink-dark saliva. Anna chuckled against her jugular—the vibration sent Tremaine's hips jerking against empty air.
"Liar." Anna's teeth scraped the straining lace of Tremaine's corset before catching a nipple between them. The woman arched off the mattress with a choked cry, her bare thighs clamping around Anna's tail. "You want it filthy." Anna's lips closed around the peaked flesh, sucking hard enough to bruise. Tremaine's live-action skin flushed darker against Anna's ink-stained mouth—peach turning wine-red where tongue and teeth marked her.
The tail's black tip found Tremaine's clit through damp curls, circling just once before withdrawing. Tremaine's sob shook the headboard. "You *vixen*..." Anna swallowed the rest with a kiss, her tongue pushing past Tremaine's lips as her hand replaced the tail's pressure. The older woman's back bowed violently, her corset creaking as Anna's fingers slid through slick heat. Anna broke the kiss to watch—Tremaine's breasts bounced with each frantic thrust, her nipples glistening with ink-dark saliva.
"M...more," Tremaine panted, her gloved hands fisting the sheets. Anna grinned, canines glinting, and obeyed—sucking a second bruise just above the corset's edge as her fingers crooked *just so*. Tremaine's thighs trembled, her scent spiking like roses left too long in the sun. Somewhere beyond the bed, Anna's sketchbook pages fluttered wildly—the half-finished Marnie grinning, her vulpine eyes tracking Tremaine's unraveling.
Anna's tail twitched against Tremaine's calf, leaving smears of ink-black fluid on silk stockings. The woman's breath hitched—half from Anna's fingers pistoning inside her, half from the sight of her own skin streaked with impossible pigment. "Y...you're *ruining* me," she whimpered, but her hips rocked faster, chasing the friction.
Anna licked a broad stripe up Tremaine's sternum, tasting salt and shattered composure. "No." She pressed their foreheads together again, watching Tremaine's pupils blow wide. "*Improving* you." The tail plunged between Tremaine's thighs without warning, its furred thickness stretching her obscenely. Tremaine's scream tore through the bedroom, her body seizing around the intrusion—
—just as the doorknob rattled.
"Anna?" Her aunt's voice, sharp with concern. "Who are you *talking* to in there?"
Anna froze, her tail buried to the hilt inside Tremaine as the older woman's body clenched around her in a vice-like spasm. The scent of spilled ink and sweat-dampened silk filled the air between them, thick enough to taste. Tremaine's gloved hand flew to her own mouth, muffling a guttural moan as Anna's fox ears twitched toward the door.
"*Ugh,*" came a husky sigh from the willow tree outside Anna's window—low enough that only a fox could've heard it. The gray-haired woman perched on a branch rolled her yellow eyes, her full lips pursed in irritation. "Typical mortal timing." Her tail flicked impatiently, rustling the leaves as she watched Anna's aunt press a worried ear against the bedroom door. "Honestly, darling," she muttered to no one, twirling a lock of silver hair around her finger, "must you *always* interrupt the best parts?"
With a flick of her wrist, violet smoke coiled from her fingertips and slithered across the marsh grass. It solidified into a perfect replica of Anna—pixie-cut hair, oversized shirt, all sharp angles and slumped shoulders—just as the bedroom door creaked open a fraction.
"Oh!" The clone-Anna's voice was pitch-perfect—breathy with forced innocence. She materialized behind her aunt, tugging at the woman's sleeve with slender fingers. "Auntie, I... I dropped my sketchpad near the marsh. Can you help me find it before the tide comes in?" The clone's sapphire eyes shimmered with manufactured tears, lower lip trembling exactly like Anna's used to before the change.
Back in the bedroom, the real Anna exhaled sharply through her nose as Tremaine's thighs trembled against her ribs. The older woman's corset strained with each ragged breath, her sweat-slicked skin glistening under the violet light bleeding through the curtains. Anna could *feel* Tremaine's heartbeat through the tail still buried inside her—a frantic, fluttering pulse that matched the rhythm of her aunt's retreating footsteps down the hallway.
Outside, the silver fox-woman smirked, her red lips parting in a satisfied hum as she watched the clone lead Anna's aunt toward the marsh. "There now," she purred, crossing her shapely legs on the branch. The movement made her ample breasts sway beneath her flowing robes, gray tail twitching with amusement. "Was that so hard?" She licked a fang, yellow eyes tracking the way Tremaine's stockinged foot twitched in midair—her toes curling as Anna's tail twisted deeper inside her. "Do carry on, darling. The day's *far* from over."
Anna's nostrils flared at the scent of Tremaine's arousal spiking—musky and thick as rosewater left to ferment. She dragged the flat of her tongue up the older woman's sternum, tasting salt and shattered pride. Tremaine's back arched violently, her gloved fingers scrabbling at Anna's newly curved hips as the tail inside her pulsed in time with the distant creak of Marnie's house settling into the marsh.
The clone-Anna would keep her aunt occupied for exactly three hours —long enough for the real Anna to reduce Lady Tremaine to a whimpering, ink-stained wreck. The silver fox-woman knew this because she'd designed the spell that way. Her tail swished lazily as she leaned back against the willow's trunk, yellow eyes half-lidded in anticipation. "*Do* try to make it worth my while, pet," she murmured, though neither Anna nor Tremaine could hear her. The wind carried her words away like shed feathers, golden and glinting in the violet-dark air.
Inside, Anna's fingers dug into Tremaine's corseted waist hard enough to leave crescent-shaped indents in the peach-colored flesh. "Say it," she growled, her fox ears flattening against her skull as her tail pistoned into the older woman with brutal precision. Tremaine's gloved hands flew to her own mouth again, muffling a sob as her body bowed off the mattress, her stockinged legs splayed obscenely wide. "Say you *want* it," Anna hissed, her breath hot against Tremaine's sweat-slicked throat. The older woman's blue eyes rolled back, her lips parting around a soundless scream as Anna's tail curled *just so* inside her.
"You...*ah!*... you *impossible* creature," Tremaine gasped, her voice cracking on a moan as Anna's fangs grazed her collarbone. The older woman's thighs trembled violently, her body clenching around the thick intrusion in a way that made Anna's own newly curved hips jerk forward instinctively. Tremaine's gloved fingers tangled in Anna's ink-dark hair, tugging hard enough to sting—not to stop her, Anna realized with a thrill, but to *anchor* herself as the younger girl's tail fucked her with relentless precision. "I'll *ruin* you for this," Tremaine whimpered, even as her hips rocked to meet each thrust, her corset creaking dangerously with the force of her movements.
Anna laughed—a sharp, vulpine sound that made Tremaine's nipples peak harder against the lace of her stays. "No," she purred, pressing their foreheads together so Tremaine could see the slitted pupils, the ink-dark hunger in her gaze. "*I'm* ruining *you.*" Her tail twisted deeper, the black tip brushing a spot inside Tremaine that made the older woman's entire body seize—her back arching so violently the headboard cracked against the wall. Outside, the silver fox-woman sighed in satisfaction, her own tail twitching in sympathy as Tremaine's climax tore through her with the force of a marsh storm, her scream muffled only by Anna's mouth crashing down onto hers.
The violet smoke coiled lazily around their tangled limbs, drinking in the scent of shattered propriety and Tremaine's musk-slick thighs. Anna's fingers tightened in the older woman's hair, her own newly sensitive clit throbbing in time with Tremaine's aftershocks. Somewhere beneath them, the sketchbook pages fluttered wildly—Marnie's vulpine grin widening as ink-black droplets splattered across her penciled cheeks.
"You're still dressed," Tremaine panted, her gloved hand skating up Anna's bare thigh with deliberate slowness. The lace left phantom patterns on Anna's skin—like the ghost of a corset she'd never worn. "Quite...*unfair*." Her thumb brushed the waistband of Anna's shorts, the contact sending electricity arcing up the younger girl's spine. Anna shuddered, her tail twitching against Tremaine's calf as she caught the older woman's meaning.
"Fine." Anna's voice came out rougher than intended, her newly sharp canines catching on her lower lip. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her shorts—watching the way Tremaine's pupils dilated—and shimmied them down her hips with deliberate slowness. The fabric caught briefly on the curve of her ass before surrendering completely, pooling around her ankles with a whisper. Her shirt followed—buttons popping as she wrenched it open, her D-cup breasts bouncing free with each sharp movement. Tremaine's breath hitched audibly at the sight, her gloved fingers twitching against the sheets.
Anna stepped forward, her tail flicking possessively as she settled between Tremaine's trembling thighs. The first brush of bare skin against bare skin made them both gasp—Anna's newly furred ears flattening against her skull as Tremaine's stockinged legs clamped around her waist. "Oh *God*," Tremaine whimpered, her gloved fingers digging into Anna's hips as their pussies pressed together in a slick, burning line. Anna groaned—the sensation overwhelming—her clit throbbing against Tremaine's with each ragged breath. The older woman's wetness smeared across her thighs, marking her in a way that made Anna's tail lash wildly against the bedspread.
"F...Faster," Tremaine demanded through gritted teeth, her corset straining as she arched up against Anna's thrusting hips. The younger girl obeyed without thought, her D-cup breasts bouncing with each frantic movement—nipples brushing against Tremaine's lace-clad chest in fleeting, electric contact. "Y...Yes, just like...*ah!*" Anna swallowed the rest with a kiss, her fangs catching on Tremaine's lower lip as their clits ground together in a dizzying rhythm. Tremaine's moan vibrated against Anna's tongue, her gloved hands sliding up to fist in the younger girl's messy pixie cut.
The silver fox-woman outside exhaled sharply through her nose, her yellow eyes tracking the way Tremaine's stockinged toes curled in midair—her legs shaking as Anna's thrusts grew rougher, more desperate. "P...Please," Tremaine gasped against Anna's mouth, her voice cracking on the word. "I need... l...*nngh!*" Anna's response was a growl, her hips snapping forward hard enough to make the headboard slam against the wall. Tremaine's entire body seized—her back bowing off the mattress as pleasure ripped through her with the force of a summer storm.
Anna's fingers dug into Tremaine's shoulders as she chased her own climax, their sweat-slick bodies sliding together in a tangle of ink-stained limbs and torn silk. The older woman's thighs trembled violently around her waist, her gloved hands dragging Anna down into another bruising kiss just as their hips stuttered in perfect unison. Anna's tail lashed wildly against Tremaine's calf, leaving streaks of ink-black fluid on ruined stockings as pleasure crested—wave after wave—until the world blurred at the edges and the only sound was their mingled gasps and the distant creaking of Marnie's house settling into the marsh.
The older woman's gloved fingers ghosted down Anna's spine—slow and deliberate—before suddenly gripping her hips hard enough to leave crescent-shaped indents in the younger girl's peach-colored flesh. "Look at me," Tremaine demanded through gritted teeth, her voice cracking on the words as Anna's clit ground against hers with renewed intensity. Anna obeyed—her sapphire-blue eyes meeting Tremaine's blown pupils—just as the older woman arched violently beneath her, her body seizing in a silent scream. Tremaine's thighs clamped around Anna's waist like a vice, her gloved fingers digging into the younger girl's hips as her climax tore through her with the force of a summer storm.
Anna gasped—her breath hitching in her throat—as Tremaine's clear female cum splashed against her young pussy, the sensation sending jolts of electricity up her spine and straight to her throbbing clit. The violet smoke coiled eagerly around their tangled limbs, humming with approval as Anna's newly awakened breeding desire surged to the forefront of her mind. "M...more," she whimpered—her voice ragged—her hips jerking forward instinctively as Tremaine's slick heat smeared against her own. The older woman's gloved hands tightened in Anna's ink-dark hair, tugging hard enough to sting as their bodies pressed impossibly closer—their pussies sealing together with an almost audible *pop* that sent tremors through both of them.
Tremaine's breath hitched—her corset creaking dangerously—as Anna's clear female cum flowed deeply into her pussy, magic humming beneath their skin as the younger girl's essence traveled straight into Tremaine's womb. The older woman's thighs trembled violently around Anna's waist, her gloved fingers scrabbling at the sheets as pleasure—deeper and more intense than before—ripped through her with the force of a tidal wave. Anna groaned—her newly sharp canines catching on her lower lip—as Tremaine's body clenched around her in a vice-like spasm, her stockinged legs shaking uncontrollably as their shared climax washed over them in wave after dizzying wave.
"D...Disgusting," Tremaine gasped—her voice ragged—her blue eyes rolling back as Anna's cum pooled hot and slick inside her, magic swirling deep in her womb. The words lacked their usual venom, turning instead into a breathless whimper as Anna's hips jerked forward instinctively, her own body trembling with the aftershocks. "Y...You're *ruining* me," the older woman whimpered—her gloved hand tightening in Anna's ink-dark hair—her corseted chest heaving with each ragged breath. Anna's response was a growl—low and vulpine—her tail twitching against Tremaine's ruined stockings as she pressed their foreheads together, their sweat-slick skin sticking uncomfortably yet deliciously.
"T...Tell me again," Anna purred—her voice rough with newfound hunger—her fox ears flattening against her skull as Tremaine's body clenched reflexively around her lingering heat. She dragged her tongue up the older woman's sweat-slicked throat—slow and deliberate—her newly sharp canines scraping sensitive flesh without breaking skin. "D...Disgusting?" she mimicked—her voice pitched high and mocking—her hips rolling forward with just enough pressure to make Tremaine's legs twitch helplessly. "O...Or d...delicious?" The older woman shuddered—her peach-colored skin flushing crimson—her gloved fingers scrabbling at Anna's newly rounded hips as she fought to catch her breath.
Anna smirked as her sapphire-blue eyes dark with ink-black hunger, as Tremaine's body betrayed her again, clear female cum dribbling messily between their sealed pussies despite the older woman's feeble attempts to clench her thighs shut. "L...Look at you," Anna whispered—her breath hot against Tremaine's swollen lips—her tail flicking possessively against the older woman's calf. "S...So *desperate* for more." Tremaine's response was a sob—half protest, half plea—her gloved hand flying to her own mouth again as Anna's hips stuttered forward—just once—just enough to make her entire body seize up in helpless overstimulation.
Outside, the silver fox-woman exhaled sharply through her nose—her yellow eyes tracking the way Anna's newly furred ears twitched with each breathless gasp Tremaine made. "T...That's it," she murmured—her voice barely audible over the distant creaking of Marnie's house—her own tail twitching in sympathy as Anna's hips rolled forward again with bruising precision. "D...Deeper." The command slithered through the violet smoke—coiling around Anna's wrists—guiding her fingers to Tremaine's quivering thighs, pressing them apart with merciless insistence. "M...Make her take it *all*."