Tail Care Is a Serious Matter
Yesterday I'd been too busy reveling in a night of absolute debauchery to think about anything else, but after a solid sleep and a fresh morning, the full weight of how completely screwed I was finally hit me.
"...The only way I had of getting home is gone."
My parents had told me to come home today, and yet I had absolutely no means of getting there. A thoroughly hopeless situation.
Originally I'd planned to use the Fox God's Temporary Transformation to make the trip, but after seeing how my friend had reacted yesterday, that was completely out of the question.
The effect had been strong enough to temporarily turn a genuine furry-obsessed freak who couldn't even get hard without fur into a normal, functioning sexual being. What would happen if that hit an ordinary person?
The situation would spiral into absolute catastrophe, no question.
I might even end up getting gangbanged everywhere I went, just like in those dirty novels. Getting railed from this side, then that side. Until I couldn't forget the taste of men, until my body couldn't live without them.
Calling it "female corruption" would almost be too polite. Right — foxes are canids, so it'd be bitch corruption.
You might think the fantasy was getting out of hand, but this was the plain truth. This gumiho body of mine was so hypersensitive that even a little pleasure was enough to blank out my mind for a moment — and before I knew it, my lower belly was already soaked through.
"But seriously, how am I supposed to get home? If I don't go today, I'm actually fucked..."
Crunch. Crunch-crunch...
I chewed my nails down to nothing, fretting, until I finally decided to borrow the power of collective intelligence and carefully posted a thread on a community site.
Collective intelligence usually produced garbage results, but every now and then — very rarely — it spat out something genuinely brilliant.
The moment I finished writing and hit enter, comment notifications started popping up one after another.
So, what brilliant choices had these freeloaders come up with?
I scrolled through with hopeful anticipation, but of course — they were exactly who I thought they were.
If anything, the situation had sunk even deeper into the gutter. Completely useless.
Honestly, these bastards never help. Why the hell did I even ask, fuck.
I was wallowing in self-pity over my thoroughly ruined circumstances, hugging my soft, squishy, luscious tails for some emotional healing, when — thankfully — at least one halfway normal person left a pretty decent answer.
...Yeah, the power of collective intelligence really is something else.
This is exactly why I can never quit community sites.
I left a grateful emoji for the person who'd given me that excellent answer, then immediately called my sister.
"Noona."
"Where are you right now? It's almost lunchtime — why aren't you here yet?"
"Still at my place. I need to talk to you about something."
"You're not laying groundwork to say you can't come, are you? If that's what this is, you're actually dead. Mom's already prepping dinner because you're coming. She's going all out."
Her voice was ice-cold, like she'd genuinely tear me apart if I didn't show — but I swallowed down the rising fear and spoke as calmly as I could.
"I might not be able to make it, yeah. I did find one method, but it was full of holes."
"So what, no method means you're not coming?"
"No? Not like that. If you help me out, I think it's totally doable."
I explained the plan I'd cooked up in my head, and my sister's response was:
"Have you lost your mind? You want me to stick you in a shipping box and deliver you to the house?"
Naturally, she reacted like I'd completely taken leave of my senses.
But what choice did I have? This was the only method I could think of right now. And honestly, it was simple and effective, wasn't it? Nobody would even notice me.
I pressed her with a shamelessly confident attitude instead.
"Then if you've got a better idea, let's hear it. A way to get down to the family home without anyone spotting me."
"...Can't you just say you're cosplaying and come down to the house like that? Picking you up is such a pain in the ass."
"Like anyone would actually believe it's cosplay. What kind of prop tail sways that naturally? Besides, prop tails aren't this luscious and soft and warm and cozy and fluffy, okay? Are you seriously comparing my gorgeous tails to that kind of garbage?"
"This kid is endlessly serious about those tails... Fine, they were pretty charming, I'll give you that. Alright, I'll get ready and head over. Wait for me. Should take about an hour and a half to get there."
"I'll get dressed and wait! Take your time, Noona!"
My sister sighed and hung up, and I immediately hopped in the shower while waiting for her.
If I didn't wash now, there was no way I'd finish drying all my tail fur before she arrived.
...Being a gumiho was great in every other way, but washing and drying this stuff was a genuine pain in the ass.
I'd finished showering and was carefully blow-drying the last of my tails when a beeping sound came from the door, and it swung open as my sister walked in.
She stared at me — diligently drying my tails with a hair dryer — with a look of pure pity.
That look pissed me off, so I immediately screeched at her.
"Drying these tails is a massive pain, okay?! If you don't dry them carefully, they reek of wet dog fur instantly!"
"Who said anything? And didn't I tell you to have everything ready before I got here?"
"That's why I told you to take your time! Drying the ears and tails takes forever! It's your fault for showing up too early!"
"This brat, blaming everyone else... Give it here. I'll dry them for you."
My sister grabbed the hair dryer and started manhandling my luscious tails, and I yelped in horror as I snatched both the dryer and my tails back from her.
"You're going to ruin the fur like that! If you don't do it gently and carefully, it all tangles up and turns into mutt fur!"
"Jeez. A kid who normally half-asses drying her own hair suddenly gets ridiculously strict the second she's got a few tails attached."
"I'm not being strict — tails are a serious matter!!!"
In the end, my sister threw up both hands and backed off, as if declaring she was done interfering with my tails. I pouted and slowly started grooming the fur she'd left in a mess.
Fifteen minutes later, after carefully finishing the last tail, I smiled in satisfaction and calmly explained to my sister why I couldn't make it home on my own.
"So basically, you can turn back into a human, but the method is way too risky?"
"Yeah. Yesterday I transformed in front of Hyeok-jin and almost got railed on the spot. Even that fur-obsessed bastard went completely feral — imagine what it'd do to people with normal sex drives."
At least it was my ball-busting buddy. If it'd been a stranger, I might've spent the rest of my life hating men.
I was already a hikikomori. If I'd developed a full-blown male aversion on top of that, I probably never would have left the house again for the rest of my life.
I was carefully combing my tails as I thought this when my sister spoke up, curiosity written all over her face.
"Transform for a second. Let me see how bad it is."
"As much as I love yuri, I have zero interest in incestuous scissoring, okay? And even if I did, it'd be with a pretty girl — not a gorilla like you."
Even oneshota fans draw the line at middle-aged ladies who reek of chicken coops. Same principle here, Noona.
But the power of a "fact" — that gut-wrenching, chest-tightening little bastard — was apparently enormous. The moment she heard the word "gorilla," my sister erupted with every ounce of rage she had.
"What? Gorilla? You actually want to die before we even get home?"
"I'm just stating facts! Why are you getting mad?! Do you think women who can hit a Three Lifts total of 400 kilos grow on trees?!"
"Shut your mouth, you little shit!!!"
THWACK!!!
"AAAAAGH!!!"
Unable to contain her fury, my sister delivered a devastating Forehead Flick straight to the crown of my head, and I rolled around on the floor as the pain rattled through my skull.
It hurt.
Felt like my entire cranium had been shattered. Like my head had been split clean in half. Was I even still alive?
What an absolute brute. A Sahara Desert gorilla of a woman. Nothing but raw strength, just like our gym-rat father.
Tears streaming from the searing pain at the top of my head, I glared at her with pure venom — but she just cracked her knuckles again and said, ice-cold:
"Look at those eyes. Want another one?"
...No, ma'am.
Yelp.