The Origin of Red Fox (Text Only)

 Karen pushed aside the canvas flap of the tent and strode confidently inside. In contrast to the autumnal chill of the forest outside, the interior of the tent was cloyingly warm. Furs and patterned cloths adorned the circular wall of the tent, and orange embers smouldered on a firepit set into the floor. A small bronze pot was suspended above the fire on a tripod, it's lid lifting and sputtering as liquid boiled within.   
 The old man was there, of course.
 He was shuffling away at something in the corner, pausing occasionally to grumble and shove his pig-tailed grey locks out of the way. Karen stood silently and waited, until finally the old man acknowledged her presence. She was tired, and cold, and footsore from her journey, but to show any weakness now would be unthinkable. She had journeyed from the reservation into the forest barefoot, and wearing a simple stonewashed blue dress, as was the custom of this ritual. The journey had been uncomfortable, but that discomfort was nothing when measured against what she'd had to do to earn this visit.   
 “So. You've come.” That voice, though raspy with age, had lost none of it's strange power. It was a voice that could summon storms, split trees and hurl rocks. Karen shuddered, but she was determined not to be cowed.
 “I have come”, she replied. The old man continued with his tinkering. Karen knew he was not about to give her this prize willingly. She had won the trials fairly. For weeks she had survived out in the wilderness. Naked when she and her fellow contestants had been hurried from the back of a cattle truck as the first fingers of dawn crept across the plains, she had killed a wolf for it's fur. She had gathered herbs and leaves to soothe her wounds. She had fashioned cudgels and sharpened sticks to hunt with. She had nearly starved, and been driven near to madness under wheeling starlight. She had beaten the others—all men-- in the trials. Climbed to the tallest peak in the mountains and watched her closest rival, one she had played with as a girl, topple to his death. She'd felt the pain of that loss as searingly as the icy air in her lungs as she had reached the mountain's summit. In every trial of cunning, endurance and strength, she had proven herself-- and still she could sense that the old man was loath to accept her.
 “You wonder why I am so recalcitrant.” That voice again, like a knife sharpening on a stone. He turned to face Karen, finally. His face, lined and gnarled like old roots, was bathed in the orange glow of the embers. In his hands, he held a stone beaker and a wooden ladle. Karen straightened her back. His gaze seemed to penetrate  her flesh and bore into her very soul. “You think I do not accept you because you are a woman.” Karen almost cocked an eyebrow. The thought had crossed my mind...
 As if in response to this thought, the old man snorted with derision. “Do you think you are the only woman who has ever participated in the trials? Or won them?”
 Karen was somewhat taken aback. She'd assumed that she was the first woman to take part in or win the trials. Considering the uproar from the male tribal elders, she'd automatically assumed that she was breaking down chauvinist barriers. The old man snorted again. “Hah! Vanity! There were others before you. Many other women who rose to the mantle of defender and fought against the forces of darkness.” The old man moved over to the pot, and lifted the lid. With slightly trembling hands, he dipped the ladle within and poured some of the contents into the stone beaker. When he had filled it, he turned back to face Karen, his face stern. “I am against your candidacy, because you left our ways behind. Because you turned your back on your people to go out there “ He pointed a gnarled finger in the direction of the tent's entrance. His eyes sparked with bottomless indignation. “You left to study the laws of those interlopers and have come back to us with a mind of metal and wheels.”
 Karen bristled at this. “I went to become a lawyer so I could defend our people. We still live in the old world, but we also live in the modern world. There are monsters out there that we cannot fight with physical strength alone.”   
 Karen held the old man's flinty gaze. A few seconds of that honestly felt more arduous to her than killing the wolf. For long, dreadful moments Karen thought she was going to be cast out, or have some awful curse placed upon her (even though she didn't believe in any of that superstitious crap).   
 Finally, the old man presented her with the beaker. “Drink.” He grunted, turning away to the firepit. Karen drank the liquid. It was bitter, and burned the back of her throat in a way that made her gag, but she forced herself to finish it. As unpleasant as it was, the nasty taste soon vanished, and a warm glow filled the pit of her stomach.
  That's some good shit! I wonder if he'll let me take a bottle of that back to the city? Thought Karen as she watched the old man throw some powder onto the fire. With a bang and a spark that made her jump, the glowing embers erupted into tall orange flames. Karen's heart began to beat a little faster, and the strange warmth in her belly began to spread throughout her torso.
 “Sit, Karen Fox”, barked the old man, motioning at a mat that was in front of the hearth. He slowly lowered himself into a cross-legged position next to the mat, ancient limbs creaking like branches in a breeze as he did. Karen did as she was bade, and kneeled down with her back to the fire.   
 At last, the ritual was about to take place.
 “Do you know what is about to happen?” The old man's voice was quieter now, more plaintive.   “There will be a rite, and then I shall take the mantle of defender”, said Karen. In truth, she did not fully understand what was about to take place here. Presumably the old man would mutter some of his mumbo-jumbo, and then she'd return to the town to a big party. The old man grunted with amusement. “You know nothing of what is about to take place, then. As one who has lived for so long as an outsider, I should expect no less.”
 Karen bristled at this-- she had lived away from the reservation for years, it was true, but she had done so in order to better herself. She had done so in order to arm herself against a modern world that wanted to swallow up her people, and for this old fool to sneer at her in this way was--
 The old man held up a placating hand. His eyes were suddenly softer, and the furious words Karen was about to spit forth died on her tongue. “I meant no offence, Karen Fox. You are like the other young folk of our community. You have been kept in the dark about the true nature of our world, and of our ways.”
 Karen was getting a little tired of these riddles, and was about to say as much when the old man spoke again.   
 “I shall begin the ritual now, Karen. But you must prepare yourself! You are about to undergo a very powerful change into a kind of Skinwalker. Do you know what a Skinwalker is?”
 Karen hid her irritation at the old man's patronising tone, and nodded. Of course, every kid in town knew the stories about Skinwalkers- humans who could change themselves into birds and beasts. It was total nonsense. She wanted the old coot to hurry up with his silly ritual so she could go back home and get on with the job of saving her vulnerable community. And also to knock back a few celebratory tequilla slammers...
 “You are not going to be changed into an animal, Karen. But you will gain the ability to assume a form that will possess all the strength of a bear, the cunning of a wolf, the eyes of a hawk.”
 Karen nearly rolled her eyes. The old guy was really laying this on.   
 “You said that there are monsters out there that you can only fight in a courtroom. That is true-- but as you are about to discover, there are still the monsters of the old world to contend with. Demons and otherworldly beasts. Are you ready to face them, Karen Fox?”
 Play along, thought Karen. She nodded solemnly. “I am ready.”
 The old man gave a short, humourless laugh. “You don't believe me, do you? Well, it doesn't matter. You won the trials and bested your opponents decisively. You are the one the spirits have chosen.” He settled back, raising his head and closing his heavy eyelids.
 “Be warned-- for some, the transformation feels like a rapture! But for some others, it can be torture. Be still now...”
 A heavy silence seemed to fall in the tent. The popping and crackling of the fire was the only sound Karen could hear, apart from her own breathing. The strange and not unpleasant warmth was roiling through her abdomen now. It was making her stomach flutter, and her breasts strangely sensitive. She noted with some embarrassment that her nipples had become very erect, protruding through the cloth of her dress. She felt altogether quite strange, suddenly hyper-aware of herself and her surroundings. A low monotone came from beside her-- the old man had begun to chant. The chanting gradually became more rhythmic and louder in Karen's ears. She began to feel hot, perspiration breaking out on her skin. Karen felt sure it was because of the fire she was sat next too, the weird (and Karen thought, quite likely drugged) drink she had taken and the strangeness of her situation.   
 She felt ridiculous sitting here in this tent with this crazy old man muttering and chanting out nonsense. He was an elder who she had never even known existed until she'd begun the trial, although she had heard her family talk of him when she'd been growing up. He was known as a shaman, somebody with apparently supernatural powers. Personally Karen had little truck with all that kind of stuff. She recognised that spirituality was important to her community and respected the beliefs of her peers, but she did not share them. Her main motivation for taking part in these trials had been to gain influence and trust with the elders. Chauvanistic attitudes still prevailed, and Karen knew she would never get anyone to listen to her unless she rose up within the ranks of her tribe. The ancient tradition of the chosen defender, a warrior of great skill and strength who would protect their land and people seemed the perfect route to Karen's goals.   Five years ago, she had left the reservation to study law. Graduating summa cum laude with a degree in Economics and Law, karen had been called to the bar a year ago. After spending several months with a top law firm in New York City, she had returned to her people to open a practice here and begin the work of defending the reservation from greedy developers and oil companies.   Always a keen gymnast and horse-rider, Karen had pursued physical fitness during her student days in order to rigorously maintain both mind and body. Quickly becoming addicted to physical challenges, she'd participated in several marathons and endurance challenges, completing them all with ease. To earn a living while she studied, she had performed as an exotic dancer in several strip clubs. There she had learned to use the power of her sexuality to enthral as well as entertain. She had become known for her lithe body and incredibly sexy routines on the pole, but she was also known by many an unlucky man as someone who was not to be trifled with. The broken fingers of handy patrons and lawsuits often chased Karen out of employment, but by the time she had achieved a reputation for being somewhat of an insurance liability for the clubs, she  had already graduated and was on her way. She'd first heard that there was to be a new contest for the position of Tribal Defender upon her return home. As much as anything else, the gruelling nature of the trials appealed to Karen, and she'd taken part with great enthusiasm. Her mother and brothers disapproved, but to Karen's surprise her father, a gruff and silent rancher, had given her his blessing. Karen was to later discover that her paternal grandmother had once held the title of Defender, but as far as this contest was concerned, she was the only woman competing.   
 And competed she had-- and won. Just as with everything else in her life, she had focussed on her goals, battled through adversity and everything had generally gone as planned. Karen expected this ritual to go as planned too-- the old man would chant his words, the ritual would be said and she would return back to the town for a celebration.   
 For the first time in her over-achieving life, Karen was about to find out that the universe had different plans for her.
 The chanting grew louder. Karen's heart was starting to pound. The heat on her skin was also coming from within. It felt like there was a furnace inside of her! The strange warmth circulating through her torso was all over her body now. It was becoming a throbbing, pulsating feeling that felt most pronounced in her lower abdomen...around her hips...between her thighs.   
 Karen's eyes widened.
 She couldn't ignore what was happening there down below any longer! The throbbing, tingly heat was making her very, very...aroused. She squirmed a little trying to fight it, embarrassed by the sensations she was experiencing in front of this weird old man. She couldn't stop it, however, and the feeling kept growing stronger. The throbbing sensation seemed to increase as the old man's chanting became louder and louder. Karen shuddered, panting...the chanting became faster and more intense...so did the heat between her legs! She was about to cry out, to demand that the old man stop when...
 “OHHHH! UHHH! UUUHHHHHH!”
  The throaty ululation startled Karen, and it took a second before she realised that it was her own husky-sounding voice. Somewhat infamous with her sexual partners (and long-suffering room-mates) for her loud moaning during intercourse, Karen had spontaneously cried out in response to the huge orgasm she'd just experienced. Inhibition and modesty were the least of Karen's concerns now-- because the most shocking developments were still to come! Her body juddered and shuddered. Unlike any other climax she had experienced, the sensations were not fading-- instead they seemed to be spreading throughout her body.  Hot pleasure sluiced through her torso making Karen cry out again. The old man ignored Karen's orgasmic moaning, uninterested as this very attractive young woman writhed in seemingly carnal pleasure in front of him. He merely registered that the transformation was indeed starting to take place, and continued the ritual.  
  Karen's breasts felt very hot and sensitive. And full! The front of her dress was feeling tight, even though it had felt loose fitting and comfortable all afternoon. She looked down at herself, and her mouth dropped open with astonishment. Her boobs had suddenly gotten bigger! It wasn't her imagination or a trick of the light. She could feel them swelling and expanding! Cleavage was bulging over her neckline and the shoulder-straps of her dress were literally straining.  Without thinking, Karen reached up to cup her new, larger breasts and shuddered with pleasure as she did so. They were very sensitive to touch, and Karen swore she could feel her already very erect nipples elongating as she cupped herself.    
  This was far from the only transformation Karen's body was undergoing.  
  A sense of discombobulation filled Karen's senses. Her line of sight seemed to be rising, floating upwards. Thinking for a second that she was levitating, Karen looked down and gasped again to see that she was getting taller! Her limbs and torso were inexplicably lengthening. She could feel the heat of the fire more on her bare toes as they drew closer to the fire. She felt her dress starting to constrict her waist as her hips suddenly spread wider, The pressure of her expanding breasts on her dress was relieved as Karen's shoulders broadened, the straps pushing down her hardening deltoid muscles.    That was the other change that caused Karen to cry out in alarm-- her muscles were getting bigger! As her body lengthened and thickened, definition began to carve through each limb. Biceps that were already gym-honed and toned began to bulk and bugle, quickly reaching body-builder proportions. With her dress now clinging to her frame like a second skin, six rectangular bulges pushed their way up beneath Karen's dress as her tummy tightened into a bulging six-pack.   She'd always been frustrated that she couldn't build larger muscles,  and this-- whatever this was-- was giving her the kind of body that all her hours in the gym had never been able to give her.    
  Karen groaned and grunted, the transformation continuing apace. Her back spread wider, teeming and pulsating with swelling muscles. Her trapezoids rose into bulbous shapes and her neck thickened. Her newly sensitive hearing picked up the sound of seams starting to pop and cloth beginning to rip. Karen's eyes widened again. Oh boy... I think my dress is gonna--  
 SHRRRIPP!
  Karen's bare thighs tore noisily through her dress, threads pulling over their luciously thick shapes like cheesestring. Karen's mouth hung agape to see how big and thick her quads had grown, and as her dress tore away from them further she could feel her muscles still enlarging further. Tucked beneath her, she could also feel her calf muscles expanding mightily, not to mention her feet. For the first time that afternoon, Karen was glad that arriving that the sweat-lodge barefoot had been a requirement of the ritual!    Her view of her big legs was suddenly obscured by two large brown orbs. Her mammoth boobs had finally pushed the front of her dress beyond it's capacity to contain them! The shoulder straps snapped away and her breasts were bared. Crying out with shock and embarrassment, Karen quickly placed her hands over her tits, but concealing those whoppers in such a fashion was quite out of the question now! Bronzed breast-flesh smooshed from either side of Karen's widened palms.    
  Karen could feel the throbbing in her body easing, the seemingly perpetual bodily orgasm abating. The transformation was nearly complete. She felt towering strength in her huge muscles replace the throbbing and tingling sensations of growth. With a throaty growl of excitement, Karen lept to her feet-- and nearly toppled over. She had to be nearly six and a half feet in height now! The ceiling of the tent loomed closer in her perception than it had before. Hungrily, she examined herself, running her fingers over every carved and bulging muscle. She grinned with disbelieving joy-- she was huge! She now posessed the kind of body that only existed in comic books! And although her muscles had bulked, she was pleased to see that her feminine curves were not only retained, but accentuated. Aside from her very large and perfectly round new breasts, Karen was pleased to see that her hips and legs contained a sultry curvaceousness to go alongside the big muscles. She placed both hands on her rump and gasped. That...is one hell of an ass!  Her buttocks were much plumper and more protruding than before. Expanding glutes and fatty tissues had given her a very pleasingly big booty. Karen shimmied her hips a little and giggled as she felt her ass-cheeks undulate under the tight constraint of her dress. Sexy...and powerful!  Karen flexed her trunk-like arms and growled again, feeling the awesome peaks of her large biceps rising to the surface as the sensation of immense strength flowed through them.    
  “Hrmm. I don't think it's ever made anyone look quite like that before.” Karen looked down to see the old man, still sat cross legged, examining her with a quizzical expression. She frowned.  “What do you mean?”    Rather sheepishly, the old man held his hands way out in front of his chest. Karen blushed as she realised what he was talking about-- and that she was standing there topless. She drew her thickly muscled arms over her chest. The old man snorted.  “Your nakedness does not arouse or offend me. I would advise you, however, to find some... suitably concealing garments. That will be one of your tasks in the days and nights ahead.”  Karen frowned.    “My task? Days and nights ahead?” She suddenly felt a sense of panic. Was she stuck looking this way? Could she go back to normal? If not how the hell was she ever going to explain this to her friends and family?  
  Once again, as if telepathically picking up on her distress, the old man smiled at Karen.    “Your current state is not permanent. You will learn how to shift between bodies in the fullness of time.”  “Uhh...h-how do I do that? Change back, I mean?”  The old man just scowled, grunting as he got to his feet.  “That's for you to discover, Karen Fox.” He turned to the fire, which had all of a sudden died back down into the same orange embers Karen had seen when she'd entered the tent.    “The ritual is complete. You are now fully transformed into the defender of our people, the latest in a line of warriors that stretches back through time out of mind.” He looked back at Karen, his mottled, leathery skin bathed in an orange glow. “You should eschew your...adoptive name now in favour of the name of your birth. At least when you're going around...”--he waved his hand in Karen's direction, searching for a phrase--”...looking like that”.  
  Karen looked away pensively, and then spoke. “Red Fox.” The old man nodded, and turned away.    
  Another burst of energy seemed to rise within Karen's swollen bosom. A feeling of great excitement began to rage within her, and before she knew what she was doing, she grabbed the ruins of her dress, gathered about her hips, and tore it away. Completely naked, save for the wooden necklace that had belonged to her Grandmother (which had somehow alone survived the growth of her frame), Red Fox sprang out of the sweat-lodge.    
  The feeling of cool air on her skin was good after the cloying warmth of the tent. Red Fox started to run. Muscles pumped. Breasts and buttocks jiggled. Long powerful legs carrying her in great strides through the forest. More nimble and agile than ever before, Red Fox flew past bush and branch, moving quickly down the hillside and to the great plains beyond. Whoops of joy echoed into the reddening sunset.  
  
  RED FOX BEGINS