ROYAL REWARD: Foxgirl Ice Cream (Foxgirl TG, Breast Expansion, 2nd Person)

Standing there on the beach, the sand scalding your soles and the sun scalding your brow, you raise your hands to shield your eyes from the glare and end up wiping a fat bead of sweat from your forehead. It’s hot! It’s so hot! You can’t believe how hot it is! Maybe you should have brought the icebox, like you planned…

In the absence of the icebox, you plant your butt on your towel and go through your options. You’re stranded (well not really) on an enemy (not at all) beach, with no food or water (save the snacks you packed and, well, all of the surrounding stores), and the temperature is rising higher and higher. If you don’t act soon, you’re a dead man. 

You think you’ll just lie back and enjoy the sun for a few minutes first though…

Five minutes later, you awaken with a real hankering for something cool. A nice popsicle or a cold, refreshing soda. You’d even take a glass of water–that would be pretty good right around now. Shielding your eyes from a sun that seems more intense than ever, you stand and turn, scanning the horizon for a source of something crisp to swallow. 

Your eyes soon settle on something very welcome indeed: an ice cream truck sitting in the parking lot on the other side of the boardwalk. With a sigh of relief, you slip on your sandals, grab your wallet, and hurry to make your way over. If there’s anything you’d welcome at the moment, it’s a nice, cold ice cream cone. 

Approaching the van, you’re a little surprised there’s no queue. After all, it’s such a hot day, and the beach is so busy–shouldn’t everyone be queueing up for ice cream? Apparently you’re the only one who’s thought of it. Makes you feel a little clever. 

As you reach the van, the window flies open, and in the gap appears a beautiful young woman, dressed like a… Wait. You pause, squinting. What’s going on here? 

The ice cream seller is dressed like a shrine maiden. A classic shrine maiden, just like the ones in your animes. And as if this wasn’t enough, she’s got a fox’s ears and tail too. Multiple tails, actually. Have you stumbled onto some kind of weird cosplay business? Like a maid cafe, but… foxgirl ice cream? That doesn’t seem like a reasonable business model. 

“Why are you dressed like a foxgirl?” you ask.

The kitsune pauses for a second before responding, as if no one has ever asked before. “We’re, um, er, one of those cosplay businesses? You know, like a maid cafe. Only foxgirl ice cream.” She points to the sign above the window, which, sure enough, reads ‘Foxgirl Ice Cream’.

“Oh.” Well, that answers that. “Can I get an ice cream please?” 

“Sure thing, honey. “ Grabbing a cone from the stack, the kitsune holds it under the tap, pulls the lever, and– Spluuuurt. “That’ll be $14.99, please.” 

You blanch, but it’s too late to pull out now. Sighing, you open your wallet. Why are these things always so expensive…?

*

Back at your towel, you settle down with a sigh, your brand-new ice cream cone gripped tightly in your hand, lest an errant child or hungry seagull or wily dingo try to steal it. Already, the ice cream is slick and sparkly in the sunshine. You might be able to last a little longer in these hostile conditions, but your ice cream clearly won’t. Time for it to complete its objective. 

Holding the cone to your mouth, you lap away at the ice cream like a dog, desperate to get it down your throat so it can get straight to work on making you feel less like you’re about to catch fire. Soon, you can restrain yourself no longer: opening wide, you take big bites of the stuff, shivering as the cool, creamy substance tickles your tongue with its sweetness. Licking your lips, you devour it, chomp after voracious chomp. 

Finally, slipping the last of the cone through your mouth, you swallow and lie back with a sigh of satisfaction. You’ve done it: you’ve managed to cool yourself down a little. Excellent work, soldier. Now, time for some well-earned R&R.

As you lie down, however, you can’t help but feel a little strange. Like your stomach has suddenly turned into some middle-schooler’s chemistry kit. Grunting, you sit up and clutch your gut, resisting the urge to screw up your eyes and moan as well. Just what exactly is the ice cream doing to you? 

Instead of the coolness you wanted, you feel a flash of heat instead, one which flows out of your core and leaves your entire body burning, skin red and flushed, as if you’re dying of embarrassment, which admittedly, you are, because it’s also given you a gigantic erection. Slamming your hands over your crotch, you stand with a gulp, looking around to make sure no one can see you. Fortunately everyone else on the beach is distracted by the gigantic octopus. 

Hands over your crotch, you rush for the nearest changing room–yes, this is one of those quaint little beaches with the cute, old-timey cabins–throw yourself inside, and lock the door as you struggle to get your shorts off. As they hit the floor, your cock springs free of them, thicker and fuller than ever, its tip squirting precum. And yet, as you watch, something strange seems to be happening…

Before your eyes, your cock, once so erect, suddenly deflates, losing height and width with speed and yet, strangely, none of its hardness–it simply grows smaller and smaller. You, too stunned to react, can only stand there and stare in shock as it reaches zero inches and inverts, leaving a nice tight slit which promptly sucks your balls in too. These moist new lips glisten, sparkling in the thin light threading through the gaps in the door, like the surface of an ice cream melting in the sun. You swallow. Oh fuck. You’ve been drugged by a kemonomimi. 

Heart pounding, you stumble back, your slick new lips dripping grool all over the floor of the cabin. When you hit the far wall, a high-pitched squeak escapes your lips and now, to your horror, you realize it’s not just your cock that’s shrinking. 

Before your eyes, everything is collapsing. You never would have called yourself muscular, but what muscle you do have is apparently so ashamed it’s trying to hide. Before your eyes, it vanishes, disappearing into the void and leaving your arms and legs looking strangely delicate and feminine. Even their hairs seem to have vanished from your skin. 

With a creak and a grumbling of bones, your skeleton decides it needs to lose a little weight as well, leaving you hugging yourself and squirming as your humeri do something that really isn’t funny. By the time they’ve stopped, you’ve lost a foot or two of height. You’re so short, in fact, that you’d barely come up to your own chest if not for the fact it’s been brought down with you.

As you pant in growing panic, your face rearranges itself, jawline softening, brow receding, nose shrinking into a petite, more feminine form. Scrambling in your shorts for your phone, you pull it out and stare into the screen just in time to see your cheeks plump up. You look like your hypothetical twin sister!

That isn’t even the strange part of what’s happening: as you stare, your ears recede into your head, leaving you pawing at the empty space they occupied. A moment later, two new ones spring from your crown: two enormous furry ones. Fox’s ears, you realize. A kitsune’s!

Your tailbone starts to tingle. You’re pretty sure you know what’s coming, but it still leaves you stunned: as you stare, a big, bushy foxtail springs out of your coccyx. It swishes when you move, sweeping the floor like a giant bush. Shocked, you grab it. And squeal–it’s so fluffy! And strangely erogenous…! 

With that, the changes seem to come to an end. Holding your phone at arm’s length, you take a picture of yourself and study it. In the picture, you see a beautiful young foxwoman with fluffy ears and a cuddly tail and a cute face. You’re still recognizably you, but the difference is shocking all the same. 

The only thing you’re missing, you muse, studying your flat-as-ever chest, are the bo–

It’s like a bomb has exploded inside you. In an instant, the pressure in your chest is so tight you can barely stay standing. Moaning, you stumble, clutching the walls for support as your smooth, flat chest ripples like the surface of the ocean a second or two after being struck by a nuke. 

Panting, you double over, unable to bear it. You can feel your skin straining, struggling to contain whatever mysterious substance is filling you: before your eyes, your nipples rise, lifted by two enormous mounds of swelling fat, two giant hills of flesh like nothing you’ve ever seen before and still growing, growing, growing larger with the second. Nnnn~! 

Clasping them, you try to hold them in place, to push them back into you, but all you achieve is making yourself scream even louder. Not only are they terrifying full, ready to burst, but they’re so erogenous a simple touch makes you want to explode yourself. When you squeeze them, the pleasure that sears your nerves is… Well, it beats an ice cream, to say the least.

Ignoring your resistance, your new boobs continue to gain size, fighting for it like they’re trying to achieve a world record. The pressure, the weight… It’s enough to make you want to break. Moaning, you drop to your knees and lie there squirming as your swelling teats spill over your arms, so heavy now you can barely lift them. Whatever’s filling them, they’ve got so full you want to scream–your skin is so taut it feels like it will tear at any second, and when you squeeze it, it only makes it so much worse. You can feel their contents shifting from one side to another in response, stretching that side of your boob that much worse. Nnn~! It’s unbearable. 

Down on the floor, your abandoned swim shorts melt upward in stark defiance of gravity. Flowing up your legs, a piece of them coils around your groin and tightens, squeezing your new pussy so tight you can’t help but moan. Meanwhile, the rest continues up to your breasts, where it stretches itself incredibly thin around your bloating new breasts, and finally congeals into the shape of a skimpy bikini top, its straps pulled so tight you’re sure it’ll take an eye out when it snaps. Naturally, they dig hard into your chest, leaving you whimpering even louder. It’s like you’re being groped by your own swimsuit, and still your boobs keep growing larger and larger. 

Another full minute passes in torment for you, as your already beachball-sized boobs continue to grow. It’s slowing now, as whatever process is causing their growth runs out of steam, but they’re still gaining another centimeter or two with every few seconds. And they’re so full. Stumbling back to your feet, you hug them and moan–you can practically hear them sloshing.

A wet patch appears on each of your new top’s cups. As you stare, eyes wide in shock, a thick glob of something white spills from underneath them and trickles down your engorged breast to the floor. You can only stare in shock. It doesn’t take much brain power to figure out what you’re looking at, but the idea it came out of you is– You gulp. 

Finally, your boobs cease to grow. It’s a relief, if not much of one. They’re still larger than your head with perky, fist-sized nipples, and so full that you’re sure they must burst at any second. When you move, they audibly slosh, like a pair of giant milk cartons, and when you squeeze them, you can feel their contents being forced towards your nipples. Planting your hands on their bases you squeeze them, just a little. And break into an orgasmic moan as milk spurts from your teats, spraying so hard it goes straight through your bikini top. Stray drops drip from around them, trickling from your teats and down to the cabin floor.

As you stare, struggling to figure out what’s happened to you, the cabin door flies open, and before you appears the kitsune from the ice cream van. “Ooo, you came out perfectly,” she says, grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you back into the sun. “Come on, let’s get you hooked up.” 

“W-what are you talking about? Where are you taking me?” 

She smirks. “Back to the van, dummy. We’ve gotta get those big, milky tits emptied now, haven’t we…? What? Where did you think foxgirl ice cream comes from?”