This story was originally conceived to be a stand alone tale, but it fit Dorothy's M.Y.T.H. universe without too much modification. It starts about a year before Help! My girlfriend is a Unicorn!

My life changed when I was taking my evening hike through the back forty. I just didn't realize it at the time.

From the previous chapter: She dutifully filled "Victoria Catalina Lupo" into the appropriate space, went through the rest of the information with me, stuffed the paperwork into an envelope, and sealed it up. Then, she gave me a hug. "Welcome to the family, Vicky!"

Linda, I mean Mom, had baked and decorated a "Welcome to the Family" cake. Once I gave her my new name, she put it on the cake. We took some pictures and had a private family party. Then, as an afterthought, they asked me for a name for my current teen male form.

They sure know how to make a guy... or girl feel welcome.

After the party, Mom asked if there was a bit of blank wall where she could install a hidden dimensional tunnel -- a 'foxhole,' as she called it.

We ended up making the classic sliding bookcase secret passage. We did it on the wall between the library and the living room. Nobody would think to look behind the bookcase for a secret passage because it's easy to see that the living room was directly on the other side of the wall.

On the other side of the dimensional tunnel is their home. Their real home, not the little house that they own and use to hide their own dimensional tunnel and to host guests who aren't in the know.

Their home? I mean our home.

That sounds nice.

Cindy took me by the hand and led me through the freshly opened foxhole into our home. As soon as I passed the doorway, I felt energized -- not like after the coffee kicked in, or even after I had been cured of my depression. It felt... Well, it's difficult to explain. It felt like I had the power; the potential to do... something.

It must have shown in my face. "You're feeling the manna -- the magical potential of our home," Cindy told me. "Magic has been declining for years, but we can saturate our dimensional folds with manna if we like," explained Cindy.

"And we like," said Mom.

Once I got used to magic and entered the home proper, the first impression that I had was that we had just entered an arboretum. Or a greenhouse. Or one of those tropical resorts where the furniture is half hidden among the greenery.

The furniture was arranged in conversation groups, some work and craft tables, a few computer nooks, and even a small grouping of chairs in front of a video screen.

While the place didn't look enclosed, there were stone and wood walls separating the areas.

Some areas were brightly lit, while others were shaded by the trees. There was a stream that came in perhaps thirty feet above the rock floor, ran for a while, then tumbled down a waterfall into a deeply shaded pool lit from underneath by colored lights.

Passing through a stone arch, I went from a brightly lit area to a night area with stars in the sky.

There were doors and arches in the walls, in the trunks of large trees, and even behind the waterfall. Both sides of the waterfall.

Cindy led me through some of them -- to gardens, open fields, ponds full of fish and water plants, fresh and salt water beaches, tall trees with treehouses, firing ranges, workout and training areas, meeting rooms, work and craft rooms, kitchens and canning rooms, and bedrooms.

Our home was really confusing until I got used to the idea that a door or arch can lead elsewhere. Two arches next to each other can lead to entirely different vistas. Huge vistas. Looking through an arch, you forget that there can be something right behind the wall. It's no wonder that there are stories of people getting badly lost in the realms of the fey.

Cindy smirked and led me to a spacious bedroom with a huge canopied bed suitable for a princess. The bed was covered with stuffed animals, with plenty of foxes and kitties featured. The room was decorated with rainbows, unicorns, fairies, pixies, and various ordinary and fantasy creatures. There was a huge bath with gently flowing warm water, a constantly running shower, a vanity, mounted blowers suitable for drying furred people, a snack bar, and a huge closet.

"This must be your bedroom," I said. "Unicorns and rainbows? Seriously?"

"Nope," she smirked. "It's your bedroom. I designed it just for you. You can change it, but then I'll pout and have a bad attitude."

I looked at the glint in her eyes and sighed. "I wouldn't even consider displeasing my little sister."

In a real sense, we have merged our homes and properties. It's as if two families with adjacent property tore down the fence in between and merged the properties.

We decided that I would sleep in my old room until I got my foxy form. That would also become my birthday. I was born in the summer of my fourteenth year. Or seventy-fourth year. Or something like that.

I have totally fallen in love with my new family. It's not any kind of mind control. It has to do with our shared were/fey heritage. And I am secure in the knowledge that they love me every bit as much.

After they left, I fired up my computer. I loaded the software that lets me get on the magic users' very secure dark web site. It's on a bootable DVD and is a modified version of Tails Linux, a security focused distro that's designed for private and anonymous browsing. I had to enter a long password just to get it to unpack itself from its encrypted file.

After testing it out, I rebooted the computer to Linux Mint, my favorite flavor of Linux.

I pulled up Oracle VirtualBox and created a virtual machine within an encrypted folder, which was within another encrypted folder. That allowed me to stash the original disk inside my gun safe, down with a lot of other discs that I would rather not have laying about.

After doing a bit of browsing, I saved the machine state, shut down virtualbox, and closed the encrypted folders. I defy even the NSA to crack that.

I pulled up Tomboy Notes so that I could continue working on the space opera that I was writing. I have a soft spot for the old stories, but I like to take modern technology into account while keeping the flavor of the old classics. The ace space explorer pilot, David Stalton, doesn't use a slide rule to plot his courses. He uses a computer, as a modern reader would expect. When he's out there among the stars, he's not as lonely as his predecessors because he stays active on email and social media through his FTL modem. He even does the occasional video chat.

I found a good place to stop and went to the top of the note. I pressed page down ten times, and didn't reach the bottom. Good. I try to post updates that are ten pages long, or maybe a bit longer.

It took perhaps another hour to give it a final proof read, copy and paste it into the browser, and post it.

Then, I was tempted to look at the comments section every couple of minutes because I'm an unabashed comment whore. Gimme some love, oh loyal readers!

I mused about my new life. With my shape shifting abilities, I'll be able to keep my old identity for at least a two or three more decades. Longer, if medical science advances the way that I think it will. And I sincerely hope that it does -- not for my sake, but so that my original family will be around as long as my new family.

Then I remembered the things that I will need to do to keep my old hobbies. I googled and found the PADI open water diver manual. Free download! Yay! That gave me something to study before taking the course once I get my new body and identity.

Then I wondered if I would really need to bother. I made a mental note to ask Mom about shapeshifting into a fully function mermaid. Then, I created a new 'to do' note in Tomboy Notes. I expected to have a long list before too long.

My kitsune nature started to assert itself. A mischievous grin appeared on my face. I could just see myself and my equally mischievous sister swimming around a scuba tour group -- maybe staying barely in sight, or maybe sneaking up and tapping someone on the shoulder or tugging a fin.

With a slight smile on my face, I turned back to my computer and pulled up the terminal. I may or may not get a diving certification for my new identity, but I definitely want to get a ham license. I should be able to pass all three tests cold, but there's no sense taking chances. I typed "sudo apt-get install hamexam." After I entered my password, the aptitude program downloaded and installed the software. All possible questions for all three exams were downloaded.

I went through the exams. As I expected, I had no problem with the technician and general tests. Easy peasy. The Amateur Extra class test had a few surprises, though -- some operating modes that I hadn't heard of. This could be fun. I was confident that I would pass the test, but I wanted to know it all.

I had always wanted to be a pilot. I never had the time and resources at the same time, but that was soon to change. I downloaded a few ground school books in PDF form.

But then, would I want to pilot an aircraft when I could fly? Well, being able to walk never kept me from wanting to drive.

It was time for bed. I took a quick shower, ate another slice of cake, and headed for the bedroom.

There, sitting on my pillow, was a fox plushie that bore a striking resemblance to Cindy's fox form. So that's what she was smirking about when she came back after having chased a cat in her fox form.

I sat in bed reading the Hero and Monster Manual -- a rule book from a somewhat obscure table top role playing game. It contains a lot of accurate information about the various magical creatures that populate the world. It contains even more bullshit. It's up to the reader figure out which is which. It isn't hard, once you know a few basic bits of information.

The North American Kitsune is remarkably similar the Japanese Kitsune. Once I transform fully, I will be able to fly, create fire, create dimensional pockets where time can go slower or faster, create illusions, shape shift, and do some conventional magic.

I never thought that I would seriously use the term 'conventional magic.'

I decided to read a little light fiction on my tablet before nodding off. I grabbed the tablet from my bedside table. I kept the USB cable attached because the battery lasts longer if you aren't constantly discharging it. A battery is only good for so many cycles, so I keep it to a minimum.

After reading a couple chapters, I put the tablet down. Then, I picked it back up and checked for comments on the story I had posted earlier. Somewhat satisfied, I yawned and pulled the covers over my shoulders. I used to have to use a CPAP because of my sleep apnea, but no more.

No more glasses. No more CPAP. No more crowns, fillings, or bridges. No more meds. No more dieting. No more routine aches and pains. No more groaning every time I get up.

But still plenty of cats that want to sleep around and on top of me.

And the Cindy plushie.

Just two days ago, I would have felt silly cuddling a plushie as I crawled into bed.

But then was then and now is now. Now, I am heading toward my destiny as a cute foxy were girl. I plan on embracing that future, so I might as well embrace the gift from my little sister.

I woke next morning to the smell of coffee brewing. I looked at the clock. I had only slept for four hours, but I felt plenty rested. More rested than I had in years. Decades, even.

I'll never get tired of this.

I took a quick shower, reveling in my new healthy body. I felt the water hit and run down my hairless body -- something that I haven't experienced since before puberty.

My skin didn't feel greasy, but neither did it feel dry. It was sensitive, but not painfully so. My hair was silky, even before I entered the shower. It was a nice change from the greasy feel that it used to have just a few hours after being washed.

I grabbed the pumice stone to scrub the excess callus from my feet. Then I remembered that I no longer had excess callus and put it down.

I noted that there were no changes since yesterday. I looked like a kid of fifteen or sixteen, but I could probably pass for eighteen or even twenty if I tried. After all, I had the life experience of an older person.

I threw on a pair of shorts and went to the kitchen. I didn't remember setting the timer on my coffee maker, but my nose doesn't lie.

When I got to the kitchen and saw my new family, in their three quarter forms, in their fur, sitting around the table and sipping away. I must be getting used to being a were, because their lack of clothing didn't bother me at all.

Cindy handed me a big mug of coffee and gave me a furry hug.

"Thanks for the coffee, little sis!" I took a sip. "Mmmmmm... Just like I like it!"

"Like what?" Cindy asked.

"I like my coffee like I like my women."

"Hot and sweet?" she asked innocently.

"Strong, hot, bitter, and creamy smooth," I answered.

"That's not me," she said, sticking her tongue out at me.

"That's OK," I said, returning the gesture. "I like my little sisters like I like my pastries; sweet, nutty, and flaky."

Well, you got what you wanted, then," said Dad.

"Daaaaaad!" Cindy said.

I chuckled, put my coffee on the table, touched the tip of my index finger to my tongue, and mimed touching it to the scoreboard. "One point."

Cindy hopped up and tackled me to the ground. I struggled to escape, but her furry form was way too strong. She wasn't heavy, but I could get no leverage. She kissed me on the forehead and hopped up.

"One point for me, little sister," she smirked, mimicking the gesture I had made.

"Just you wait," I said, shaking my finger at her. "I'll swamp you with my big fluffy tail, once I get a big fluffy tail."

"Like this?" She whacked me across the chest with her tail. "Or this?" She floofed my face with the tip of her tail.

"Something like that," I said, tickling her in the ribs.

Soft, furry ribs.

I can't wait to get my fur.

She tackled me again, sat on my chest, and proceeded to tickle me.

"No fair!" I said, screeching. "Help! Help!"

I felt a hand grab each ankle. Mom and Dad then tickled my feet until I was gasping for air.

"No fair!"

"Were culture lesson number one," said Cindy, "Weres are touchy-feely."

"And ticklish," I said, once I caught my breath.

"That's part of being sensuous," said Mom. "We weres are in touch with our inner animal.

Cindy helped me up. I immediately plopped into my favorite easy chair. It pretty much swallowed me up. It musta gotten bigger. Huh.

Snowball, my big poofy white cat, hopped up onto my lap. I picked her up and hugged her. "Sweetie kitty," I cooed, scritching her under the chin and around the ears.

Sabrina, my long haired black kitty, gave Snowball a jealous glare. She hopped up and demanded her share of the attention. Actually, she tried to push Snowball out of the way so that she could get all of the attention for herself.

I picked them both up and cuddled them, one in each arm. Snowball was completely content with this, but Sabrina is more of a 'pet me in place' kind of a cat. Most people get the strong paw when they try to pick her up, but she is more tolerant of me cuddling her.

Maybe it's because of my extreme animal magnetism. Or maybe it's because I have so many cats, and she has to put up with me cuddling her if she wants the amount of attention that she feels that she obviously deserves.

I set them back down. After some tussling, they came to an accommodation and shared my lap.

Suddenly, a fluffy red fox that outweighed the two of them together squeezed between me and the kitties and made herself comfortable in my lap. The cats looked annoyed and disgruntled, but didn't try to do anything about it.

I picked Cindy up and floofed her fur and cuddled her just like I did the cats. Then I gave her scritchies along her spine, which made her shiver -- just like the cats.

I think that if she had been part cat, she would have started purring.

"I think it's about time to tell you about the birds and the bees, were style," said Mom.

I said, "When a mommy were and a daddy were love each other very much, they kiss in a very special way..."

"And then they fuck like weasels," Cindy interrupted.

It was kinda weird hearing a fox speak.

Dad rolled his eyes. "Handle your daughter, Linda."

Mom smirked. "What about your daughter?"

"Oh, my daughter's an angel," Dad said.

"Anyhow, before I was so rudely interrupted..." Mom continued.

Cindy stuck her foxy tongue out at her.

"Ahem!"

Cindy snickered.

Mom sighed. "Anyhow, the various myths and fictional works have things partially right. Weres and the Fey do tend to form long term relationships, but they aren't exclusive. Tolkien's descriptions of the elves were filtered through a Victorian attitude, I guess."

"You mean you guys will be bringing guests over on occasions? Bob and Carol, Ted and Alice?"

"Not quite so crude," Dad commented. "While pickup sex and friends with benefits are quite common, there are also long lasting and committed relationships that contain three or four or more partners."

Mom continued, "With essentially unlimited lives, it would be easy to get bored or feel trapped. With the freedom to love a variety of people, and with no necessity to reject one person in order to accept another, the people who are truly compatible stay together through thick and thin, while those who are best off as casual friends, maybe with benefits, have the ability to get to know themselves and each other."

"But kids are only born to long term committed couples," added Dad. "The only way to describe how it works is 'magic,' but pregnancy is rare and only happens when a couple is committed long term, happy with each other, and not stressed. That means that the resources are available and the parents are emotionally capable of raising their child."

"So the first boy that bonks you isn't going to knock you up," Cindy said.

"Lesbian, remember?" I replied. "No boys."

She smirked. "For now, anyhow. Some of the were and fey boys look really girly. You can't tell without undressing them. Not that they generally wear clothes when there are no norms around."

"TMI! TMI!"

Cindy giggled. "Don't be such a prude, little sister! You'll be flouncing around in your altogether soon enough."

I turned red, but didn't say anything.

"And when you're a shape shifter, you can be one sex or the other, or neither or both.

Dad got into the act. "Wasn't there some Norse god who shape shifted into a mare and got preggars?"

Mom added, "Zeus did the nasty as a swan, if I recall correctly."

Cindy was relentless. "Remember, you're a furry now. Yiffing is part of the deal."

The next morning, I was the first one up.

I did my usual morning routine. I put the coffee on to brew, checked on the chickens, gathered the eggs, did all my shower stuff, sipped coffee, and cooked some sausage and eggs. In the spirit of being a newly minted were, I didn't bother with clothes.

My ex had disliked my habit of running around the house in the raw. She convinced me to do it less, but I guess it's time to get back into the habit.

After I ate, I went through the foxhole, to the pool under the waterfall, and dove in.

I don't generally open my eyes underwater, but I decided that it couldn't harm me this time. I was surprised to find that I could see perfectly. I was also surprised to find that I could swim quite well. I couldn't go as fast as I could with flippers, but I could definitely move well -- probably better than an olympic swimmer.

I swam around, examining the rock formations, water plants, fish, and even coral.

Fresh water coral? Must be magic. heh.

Actually, the vaguely tropical looking life, colorful rocks, colored glowing crystals, and glowing fish and crustaceans made the swim absolutely magical.

I had been swimming around for half an hour before I realized that I had been holding my breath the whole time -- never feeling the urge to breathe.

I was about to head for the surface so that I could grab my flippers and do some speed runs when a mermaid splashed in above me.

A mermaid? A mermaid! I guess that answers my earlier question about shape shifting to a mermaid. So much fun ahead!

Cindy swam up parallel to me and wrapped me in a wet hug. I hugged her back. She took off like a rocket, making it hard for me to hold on.

She took us to the bottom, swam to the top, and porpoised. I couldn't believe how high and far we flew. It was better than any ride at Cedar Point.

We porpoised a couple more times, then stayed up in the air.

Cindy shifted to her three quarters form, somehow also drying the both of us off.

That's right! Kitsunes can fly! I can't wait for the full moon.

Once we landed, Mom handed me all of my Vicky paparwork. Everything that didn't involve a picture, anyhow.

She also gave me the paperwork for my new young male form, John Charles Nicholas, nineteen years of age. She included picture IDs. And a driver's license. And even a PADI card.

I went to bed on the night of the new moon, and woke up feeling slightly different. A quick look verified that my features had softened, by eyes were bigger and less recessed, my adam's apple was gone, and my body was subtly less angular and more soft and curvy.

It took a few days for the changes to complete themselves. The secondary sex characteristics were complete before anything happened with the primary characteristics. Then, over night, I became all girl.

I gave my new equipment a test drive that morning. Actually, ever since I woke up that first morning, I have been enjoying my newfound health. The fact that I lost my... ummm... favorite appendage doesn't bother be because I knew I would be able to get it back whenever I need to empty my chalice against a tree or write my name in the snow or whatever. After the full moon, anyhow.

Mom made me put on a shirt so that she could take pictures for my school and state ID cards. The next day, the ID cards were ready.

I had been using a pair of shorts, an old t-shirt, and a pair of sandals that one of the kids outgrew to go out and do the chores.

But such rags wouldn't do for going out on the town. At least, little sis didn't want to be seen with someone wearing such rags. Also, they would leave me rather vulnerable to scratches, and I felt like wandering my property.

So I dug through the clothes that I had never gotten around to taking to the free store.

Never heard of a free store?

There are resale shops that take clothing donations and sell them cheaply, then send the profit to whatever charity they prefer. Some use volunteer labor, so they have a more money to send. Others hire people to run the stores, so there is less to pass on. Not that I have any gripe with that because the employees need to make a living, too. Rather than receiving charity, the employees earn their money.

But the resale shops have to be more picky than the free stores. The items don't have to be salable, just usable.

The free stores don't resell the donations. They give them away. No money passes hands, so all they need is a bit of volunteer labor to sort things and lay them out. Very often, that volunteer labor comes from the customers and the donors. The only real cost is the building, and there are a number of churches with enough space.

Anyhow, I dug through the clothes that I had slowly been pulling from the kids' bedrooms, washing, and putting into bags.

Socks were easy enough to find, since fit wasn't critical. The same goes for shirts, except that I needed to get loose shirts to keep my nipples from being too obvious. I also found a few pairs of cargo pants that fit reasonably well. They are like the rumpled shapeless old camouflage battle dress uniforms that the army started using in the early eighties.

I lucked out with the shoes.

A friend of one of the kids had tromped through the mud and had to take off his boots in the mud room and wash them off. We sent him home in a pair of flip-flops. His mom used that opportunity to get him a new pair.

So, we ended up with a rather raggedy pair of what looked like army boots.

Some Kiwi and a brush made them look a lot better. They are still going to go to the free store, but not right away.

So I went wandering about the property fully dressed. I had to adjust my web gear and backpack to my new frame, but everything fit well enough.

My magical aura vision was even sharper than before, as was my sense of smell. And the cold iron was somehow more annoying. I'm glad that modern steel is less annoying. It must be because of the martensite, austenite, cementite, pearlite, and other phases in modern carbon steel. Cast iron is ugly stuff. Stainless steel is detectable, but not ugly.

I hated to do it, but I ended up cleaning up all of our old cast iron cookware and packing it into boxes. To the free store it shall go.

Now I know why I haven't seen any cast iron cookware at the church.

I was walking through my woods and reveling in the feel of nature all around me when I saw a certain little fox running straight at me. She took a running jump and, in mid leap, transformed to her three quarter form.

She knocked me down and sat on my chest like a certain cartoon tiger.

"All right, Hobbes, wanna let me up?"

"Nope!"

I struggled to get up, but I couldn't get any leverage.

"What'sa matter, Calvin?" she smirked.

The next morning, I woke up under a pile of cats, as usual. But they sure felt heavier this time.

I was laying on my side in a half folded position -- pretty much the way that I always sleep. There was a particularly heavy pile of cats on my hip. But how can more than one fit there?

I reached my hand out from under the covers and petted... fox fur!

Cindy yawned. "Mmmmmmm... You're comfy."

At that point, I was awake enough to easily see her with my aura vision. I quickly grabbed her and dragged her under the covers and hugged her tightly and wiggled.

"Oh goodie! My favorite little pet foxie! If I had a foxie of my very own, I would hug her and squeeze her and I would name her George -- I mean Cindy..."

I could tell that she was about to shift, so I held her tighter. "Don't even think of changing, my little foxie pet!"

She shifted anyway, of course.

She gave me the same treatment. She wrapped her furry arms around me and squeezed -- tightly. "It's my favorite pet hu-mon!"

"Can't... breathe..." I gasped.

"Silly little sister! What do you need to breathe for?"

She was right, of course. Haven't I been swimming underwater in the enchanted pool for the past week or so?

I wrapped my arms around her furry body and squeezed. It soon devolved into a wrestling match -- one that she could win easily. Not that I minded being smothered in fur.

Cindy looked at the door and smirked. I looked and saw Mom standing there with an amused expression.

"It isn't what it looks like," I said.

"And so what if it was?" she asked. "Would that be a bad thing?"

I gave her a dumbfounded look.

She chuckled. "Lesson two about the weres and the birds and the bees."

Cindy maintained her escape proof grip on me.

"All of the human taboos came from the fact that controlling sex is the only to control fertility. The charitable say that the taboos are an attempt to make sure that all children born are wanted and cared for. Less charitable people will point at the male-dominated society and the males' wish to ensure that any children born are theirs, and not those of a rival."

"What about incest and pedophilia?" I asked.

"The same, essentially," Mom answered. "Incest can result in damaged offspring, and its prohibition is largely instinctive. There is a natural aversion, as evidenced by the fact that unrelated children who were raised together and destined to an arranged marriage generally don't do as well as conventional arranged marriages."

"Pedophilia?"

"Lots of factors. An aversion to harming children. A desire to keep girls virgin to make them more desirable to their future husbands -- whether arranged or not."

"And what about weres?" I asked.

"With weres and the fey, the age of consent is whenever the person is ready, and the parents agree. Even in human society, twelve was a common marriage date until a couple of centuries ago. And even now, there are some states that allow marriage as early as twelve."

"Yeah, Mom, You remember when it was like that!" Cindy smirked.

Mom shook her finger at her. "Mind your manners, sprout!"

"Marriage age was twelve in Rome, and among the ancient Jews, right?" Cindy said.

"So I am told," Mom said, sticking her tongue out at Cindy.

"I hear that if you get divorced in West Virginia, you are still brother and sister," Cindy quipped.

Mom shook her head. "Even there, first cousin is as close as you can go."

"One big family! Really!" I couldn't resist chiming in.

"Fortunately, Cindy is your adopted sister," Mom said. "She isn't a virgin, by the way."

"But we're not doing anything!" I protested. "My meanie meanie furry little sister is beating me up!

Cindy gripped tighter and squeezed the breath out of me. Again.

Mom rolled her eyes. "I'll just leave you two to work it out."

"Help! Don't leave me alone with this meanie meanie bobeenie!"