Alright here's the one that's at least tasteful and not in a fetishy way.
>be me, Anon
>30, NEET, live in mom's basement, hate furries more than anything
>my righteous crusade against degeneracy fills my days, fueled by tendies and Mountain Dew
>one glorious afternoon, pwning noobs in WoW, I get a DM on Telegram
>pic related, it's an anthropomorphic fox woman. Like, full-on furry art.
>fluffing instant block, screeching inwardly about the degeneracy of the internet
>but then the message pops up as a notification: 'You have a terrible curse, Anon. It will not go away unless you perfurm a special ritual.'
>pfft, what a load of furry-baiting nonsense. Laugh it off.
>next day, things start going wrong
>my internet drops mid-raid, costing us the boss. Guild leader calls me a scrub. Cursed.
>go to make tendies, they burn to a crisp. Whole house smells like failure. Cursed.
>mom finds my piss jug under my bed. 'ANON, WE TALKED ABOUT THIS!' Cursed beyond belief.
>my waifu body pillow spontaneously deflates. The horror.
>the curse is real. I feel it in my bones. It's gotta be her.
>unblock the fox lady, trembling.
>'WHAT DO I DO?!' I type, desperate.
>she replies almost instantly: 'Meet me at the Grand Imperial Hotel, Suite 404, tomorrow night at 7. Dress... presentable.'
>presentable? I only own cargo shorts and anime tees.
>next evening, tell mom I'm going to a 'LAN party with Greg.'
>Greg doesn't exist, mom doesn't question it. Probably thinks I'm finally getting a life.
>put on my least stained shirt, brave the outside world. The sun, it burns.
>arrive at the hotel, find room 404. Heart hammering against my ribs.
>knock. Door opens.
>it's her. Not a picture, but an actual, breathing, anthropomorphic fox lady. Tail swishing, ears twitching.
>she's wearing a fancy dress. I'm wearing cargo shorts. Kill me.
>'Come in, Anon. We don't have much time.'
>the room is dimly lit, smells faintly of cinnamon and... wet fur?
>she holds out a small, ornate ring and a scroll of parchment.
>'To break the curse, you must wear this ring and sign this contract. It binds you to the ritual.'
>the contract is in Japanese. I can't read a single character.
>'What does it say?' I ask, my voice a pathetic squeak.
>'Oh, just standard ritual stuff,' she says, flashing a foxy grin. 'Pact of the ancient ones, binding of souls, eternal servitude, you know.'
>eternal servitude? Eh, probably just metaphor fur the ritual. I'm desparate.
>slip on the ring. It's surprisingly comfurtable.
>grab the pen, hesitantly sign my name. The ink glows faintly.
>'Excellent,' she purrs. 'The curse is broken. You may leave.'
>stumble out of the hotel, dazed. The air feels lighter. The curse is gone!
>a few days pass, no more mishaps. My internet is stable, tendies are crispy, piss jug remains undisturbed. Life is good.
>then, a knock on the basement door.
>it's mom. And behind her... the fox lady. With two enormous suitcases.
>'Anon,' mom says, her voice a mixture of confusion and terror, 'this young... woman says she's moving in. She says she's your wife?'
>my jaw hits the floor.
>the fox lady smiles, 'That's right, Anon-kun. That contract you signed? It was a marriage certificate. In Kitsune law, it's legally binding. Furever and ever. Till death do us part... or until I decide to get bored of you, whichever comes first.'
>my mom faints.
>I just wanted the curse gone. I HAVE A FURRY WIFE.
>help.
I still think I made the shittiest thing in existance but I'm having fun doing it in different perspectives.