As you once again wake to a nightmare. Your flesh transformed by some mis-interpreted words. You find yourself blessed with an immense bust. Too heavy to lift with your petite size, and countered by an equally intimidating butt. An unfamiliar face glowering back at your fate as you lay there.
It wasn't a criticism, or a display of racism. You simply observed, that Japanese women tend to be less than generously endowed. It wasn't your fault that kitsune deliberately chose to be offended. You'd seen the underwear padded to give the illusion of fullness. You'd noticed the slight and slender women who could as easily pass as handsome men. It was simply an observation of truth. You ground your teeth in frustration.
The soft creak of the paper door slid wide, and the familiar snuffling muzzle poked in. The witch was there, every morning taunting you, reminding you that she was responsible for you pathetic state.
"はいはい、起きますよ。" You murmur as you heave yourself up. Needing the support of your heavy-duty corset to constrict your already petite waist, accentuate your bust and butt. Neither of which needed the assist. However, to be able to walk without pain, or at all, you had to wear that degrading contraption.
As ever the fox, snorted and snuffled in amusement, its eyes twinkling with mischief. After all, with such an outrageous body, you had limited job opportunities. You fired up your internet connection, ensuring you had your loyal audience ready to appreciate your looks. They followed you from what felt like every nation on Earth. Their lewd, graphic 'compliments' couldn't help but make you squirm, imagining, knowing what they'd do if they met you in person.
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