Striped, Collared and Heated Chapter 27

The choker made it easy to watch Carla from outside the building, so long as I didn't go more than a few blocks away. I'd built one of my eyes into it. Sadly, I couldn't do much more than that. She returned to her work with a sort of aimless distraction. Avoiding her coworkers, but customers stopped avoiding her and started asking the questions that customers do. Where's this? Where's that? Do you still carry this other thing? Carla seemed stunned at first. She hadn't believed me. After the shock wore off, she began smiling, her real smile, which of course activated the sparkly glamor that improved her appearance. It also made the silver word on her choker shine, drawing the eye. 

"Thank you Foxy." an older woman said with a wink after Carla guided her to the socks she sought. The word made the glyph inside her flare, and she shivered. The second time a customer called her foxy, the Glyph flared for several seconds. Before her lunch break, perhaps every one in four customers read the pendant out loud. Then at lunch, a man sat across from her at the table with an air of light flirtation. 

"Mind if I join you?"  

She made an invitational gesture. 

"Wow, with eyes like that, I guess you’re more an artic foxy?" He asked with a why the hell not attitude. 

"Well maybe," she said, "I'm not a fan of actually shoveling snow." 

"I could do it for you." He responded, she smiled and then their conversation was off to races. They had a short flirtatious conversation about winter, with him dropping as many fox puns as he could think of. Each one made Carla groan, but she didn't tell him to stop. Each one made the glyph within her brighten and by the time the man asked for her number, it glowed without pause. She smiled sweetly and demurred, telling him maybe next time. Glancing around, she noticed other employees were watching her and man, concern on their faces. Probably wondering who was stupid or desperate enough to hit on a woman with a probationary collar. Carla told the man it wasn't a good time and retreated to the restrooms. 

Once there she stared in to her reflection, eyes locking on the pendent. "What the hell?" She asked, "Foxy?" Once the word exited her own mouth, she winced and sucked in a breath through her teeth. "Why am I Foxy?" This time she pressed her lips together, yet it didn't muffle the canine whine as she moved her hips in a slow roll.  

The squeak of the hinges announced another person entering the bathroom. Carla startled and bolted into a stall, slamming the door. My world narrowed to the interior of the stall as Carla locked the door. "Gavin, what did you do to me?" She muttered, pulling off her pants and pushing them down to her ankles. Biting her lower lip, she sat down on the toilet and stilled. Her hands slowly curled into fists as they rested on her thick thighs, color intensifying on her cheeks. A wisp of black hair fell into her eyes.  

I wished I could scry into her thoughts as well, but I had to content myself with watching her actions. The glyph probably had the same effect as all of Xianta's magic, but I doubted it would be nearly as strong as the heat the Mistress had inflicted on me. Would she give in?  

Carla reached up, hooked a finger around the choker and tugged hard. The choker came off with a snap. The pendent fell onto her breasts and slid down her shirt. Catching it with a slap to her chest, she yipped in surprise. She plucked the thing off, placed it in the palm of her hand to examined it. "Oops," She whispered, "Didn't think that work. Arn't cursed collars supposed to not come off?" Chuckling, she thumbed the pendent, turning it over. "So silly. I'm not a foxy fox." 

To my scrying eyes, the glyph flared like a burnt orange sunset inside her chest as something rippled through her. The pendent tinged as it hit the floor as her irises narrowed to crystalline pin points. 

"Foxy." she murmured, opening her legs, revealing a puffy pink flesh that wasn’t entirely human. Fingers sunk into it, displacing wetness that streamed around her fingers. With one palm pressed against her mouth, her other hand delved into her sex, rubbing, twisting. It swelled and shifted around the fingers, assuming the shape of a canine spade. She remained there for a while, body straining, eyes closed, the only movement the small strokes of her hand. Her eyes snapped open, a quiver ran up through her body. A little yip made it past her hand as she fell against the wall of the stall. Once she caught her breath, she pulled her hand from between her legs and looked at the coated fingers.   

"Oh fuck." She gasped. White fur gleamed like melting icicles. It covered two of her fingers. Each of them were tipped with a wicked, crystalline claw.  

I echoed her sentiment, the Glyph hadn't been intended to change anything so obvious without my permission. Changes were supposed to radiate out from her sex, just like my own. Changing her pussy, give her a little fur down there, maybe a tail nub. Hadn't realized that fingers within her would count. After staring at the fingers for a while, Carla whipped out her phone.  

My own cell pinged almost immediately.

What the hell did you do to me?!!

I looked at the text and fought down claws of panic. What would the mistress do in this situation? She wouldn't be in this situation; I'd never dare take that tone with her. That might be why she picked me instead of Carla. Regardless, I had to handle this with grace and confidence. With Boon distracted, we probably had more leeway here. I forced down my panic. The mistress was always calm and in control, mostly. All I had to do was mimic that. I was the mistress here. My long nails made texting difficult, but I managed to type a reply. 

Something the matter, Foxy?  

Through my scrying, I watched her squirm as she read and reread text. Every time she read the word, the Glyph brightened. Still, with her legs pressed together and her cheeks glowing red, she replied.

My fingers are furry! 

I used the voice function to compose my response.

So they got a little Foxy? I'm merely sharing a possibility with you since you're so interested in what's happened to me. Put your choker back on, put a glove on your hand and finish your shift. If your... needs get the better of you, I suggest you use a toy. I'll explain everything tonight. Then we'll see if you're Carla or Foxy.

Carla clutched her phone to her chest with both hands and hissed as her body trembled. Her trifold spade gleamed wetly as the Fox Glyph burned within her. Watching her fight her arousal stirred my own heat, and I held my breath, waiting for her willpower to snap. Yet to my surprise and disappointment she controlled herself. Her shaking subsided, and she sighed out a long breath. Carla put herself back together, re-secured the choker around her neck and stuck her altered hand in her pocket. Obeying my instructions, she grabbed a pair of cloth gloves that some employees like to use when they're handling pallets or boxes and put them on. The claws immediately pierced the fingertips, so she wrapped them with gaze from a first aid kit. Out on the floor, someone asked where'd she been. She simply waved her gloved fingers and told them she'd cut herself. 

I couldn't watch her all afternoon, I had to prep for our dinner. I’d do this by having lunch. The restaurant had several wards that needed to be disabled. They were tuned to fey magic, but I wanted to make sure nothing interrupted my fun so I disabled with a blast of chaos, transmuting them to similar but non functional runes. Then I had to insure nobody noticed anything I didn't want them to. Xianta had instructed me that humans would fall for illusions wards readily if I introduced her taint to them first. My mistress could do this simply by exposing a mortal to an image of herself, as she had with Boon. I needed to do a bit more work than that, but not much. The heat clawed at me and a long white fox tail swished in my mind, rendering my own sex damp and ready. Opening my legs let my musk drift through the restaurant. After I spent an hour nibbling on a plate of cheese and meats, the elegant dining experience thrummed with sexual tension. The bartender openly flirted with the servers. The hostess emerged from the bathroom looking flushed and the top buttons of shirts had come undone. My own hunger surged, and I thought about introducing myself to one of the staff, but the image of Carla successfully resisting her urges rose in my mind. I resolved to save myself for her. I went home and checked on Floyd, filled her trough with fresh greens and told her what a good cow she was. On the bed of the mirror side of my apartment, I found two gifts from the Mistress.  

An elegant robe made out of a silken material embroidered with elegant flowers arranged in patterns that mimicked my stripes. It had the wide sleeves that you see in movies set in ancient China or Japan. The second gift was a maid's uniform. I shrugged into the robe immediately and discovered it had been made with my huge tail in mind. The fabric split for it, then draped down either side and folded together, concealing my legs. It softened the broadness of my shoulders and emphasized my hips. It even suggested a curve over my chest. I spent far too long admiring it in the mirror and had to hurry when I noticed the time. I grabbed the uniform and stuffed it into a sleeve before hurrying to the restaurant.  

I paused at the entrance to the restaurant and let the illusion fall. With their wards disabled, they should believe that I'm a merely fey touched. So long as I didn't manifest all my eyes, then the MDA wouldn't be alerted to my presence. Drawing myself up, I stepped through the door. The same hostess from the afternoon stood at her station, rubbing at the pink stain on the white collar of her shirt. Lipstick?

An amused laugh rolled out of me and her head snapped up as I approached. Her eyes flicked up and down my body before following the movement of my tail as I strode up to the podium. Color blossomed on her cheeks. A slip of a woman, the thin compact build of a female gymnast with two-tone hair, half black, the other orange red. Early twenties, I’d guess. Must have a thing for cats. Not that I blamed her for that.

“Welcome Madam." She said. 

Madam? Did I have gray hairs somewhere? Still, that could work. I couldn't be a mistress, could I? Madam might suit me. It wasn't a name, but Madam something or other could have an acceptable ring to it. I rewarded her with a smile and the girl wavered as if she might melt. 

"Table for 2, but make it a big one, something private if you could." I asked her.  

"Right away Madam. Give me a few moments, please." She nodded, and it was almost like a small bow before she hurried into the restaurant. I tapped my nail on the desk while I waited for her return. How long did I have until Carla showed? She'd be getting off work right about now, but I didn't know if she'd left early. She was beyond the range of my senses. I should have watched her closer. What if she sold me out to the MDA? I'd made her horny, but it was pretty far from mind control. Maybe I should have forced her to suckle a nip before I'd let her go? 

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