Foxboy

He was tall, lean, and had sharp hazel eyes, his long, fluffy hair a shade of copper just orange enough to catch the eye, yet still dark enough to pass for natural.  He wore a loose kimono, his chest bare in a demonstration of either casual confidence in his own looks or a casual lack of concern for the thoughts of anyone who didn't appreciate how -drop dead handsome- he was.

Which Lotte did.

Very much so.

But that did nothing to explain what he was doing, lounging with one leg up in her favorite reading chair, completely uninvited when the front door and windows were all locked.

"You have five seconds to explain who you are before I call the police," she said calmly.

"I am Ren," he said, his voice deep and smooth, "the guardian spirit of the Torimaru clan." Two fox-like ears unfolded from somewhere atop his head, and he gestured to Lotte as if that explained everything.

"My last name is Van Dijk," she replied.

For a native of the spiritual realm, Ren was surprisingly well-versed in genealogy web sites, having done exhaustive research on the Torimaru family line - or, perhaps, filling in what was needed from memory.  Either way, in 1617 a female passenger on a Dutch trader ship had taken "shore leave" with a member of the clan; some four hundred and a handful of years later, the previous Torimaru heir had passed on without child, leaving Lotte as the next closest surviving member.

"It's becoming more common," Ren confessed, "low birth rates being what they are."

"So... what does this mean?" Lotte asked. "I have an attractive supernatural servant now?  What am I supposed to do with you?"

He rested his head on his hand, giving her a wry smile. "Can you truly think of nothing?"

*****

As it turned out, Lotte could think of a lot of things, and Ren was always ready to humor if not encourage her, deriving endless amusement from her reactions and behavior.  In exchange, Ren harmlessly subsisted on her latent spiritual energy - she hesitated to call it "ki" despite Ren repeatedly assuring her that nobody would really be offended.  Though she did learn, or perhaps was indirectly taught, how to project into him, prompting an odd reaction from his form that neither of them had much of a problem with.

Thus, when Ren heard Lotte attempt to approach quietly from behind him, he made no move to react, letting her slip both hands around him and into the front of his kimono.  There was a pleasant, prickly warmth at her touch before he felt energy push into him like a wave.  The sash on his clothes slipped open and the front of his clothing parted as his belly quickly filled and spread outward, his abs replaced with a beach ball-sized mound.

"This seems like one of your favorite ideas as of recent," he said with a smile.

"I can do more," she replied. "I think."

"Oh?"

She trailed one hand back along his hip and the other to his chest.  The warmth and pricking came again, and with it another sudden wave of growth: His chest rose up, pecs wide and high as they merged into a single curve across his front.  His kimono parted further as his hips pushed it to the sides, backside rounding out until it bumped into Lotte, who let out a quiet, wordless exclamation of surprise.

Shortly after removing her hands she stepped into view, clad in an unbuttoned blouse and nothing else. "Can't really... touch you from there."

"There's more?"

She bit her lip, resting both hands on the swell of his stomach. "Yes."

The waves came in a slow, steady series of pulses, the core of his body growing rounder before continuing to his limbs.  Standing on stocky legs he rested fattening arms atop his front, watching as she both tried to watch him while simultaneously trying to keep herself from staring too much.  His limbs stiffened, then widened to uselessness before rounded forearms and shins rose up around wrists and ankles.  Being reduced to a contoured ball, unable to even move, would be a great vulnerability, were he not in the presence of one so immaculately trustworthy.

For a while Ren said nothing, simply letting Lotte stare in wonder with an all-too-familiar glint in her eyes.

"You have something on your mind," he said. "Speak if you'd like."

There was a moment of hesitation before she practically lunged at him, hugging him with both arms as she rolled him back. "You," she began, "are my big... squeaky... foxboy-loo-" He felt her squeeze down onto him, her petite form forcing the airy contents into the rest of him as it filled her tightly. "-eep!"

"...and yet you're the one squeaking," he said, "and not I."