|The Transformation Story Archive||Horses and Doggies and Cats, Oh my...|
Son of a Bitch
The candle shone brightly in the dimly lighted room, the light shining beautifully off the dinner plates and the wood finish of the cherry dinner table.
"What a beautiful evening this is," whispered Marisa before taking another bite of her veal. "Itís so romantic."
Roger smiled at her, finishing his own mouthful, "Yeah. Itís amazing that weíve been together 5 years now. The time seems to fly by so fast. And you outdid yourself with this dinner sweetie. Itís the perfect celebration of our anniversary. "
Marisa nodded thoughtfully, "Iím very happy with the veal, it came out very nice." She put down her utensils, having eaten her fill and stood up from her seat, "I got you something."
"What is it?"
"Youíll see," Marisa grinned. She picked up a small morsel and tossed it to their German Shepherd-Husky cross, Sam, who had up till now been patiently waiting beside the table for just such an event. Marisa walked into the bedroom of their small but cozy apartment, Sam enjoying his own piece of the anniversary meal. She returned a moment later with a small box, a red bow resting on top. "Here we are."
Roger accepted it from his gorgeous wife, and peeled off the wrapping. It was a jewelry box. He opened it excitedly, and inside it was a gold ring, beautifully decorated with a sapphire set in the middle. He stared at it in surprise, "Wow! This is gorgeous! Thank you honey!" Roger stood up from his seat and gave Marisa a warm kiss.
"Take it out of the box and look at the band."
Roger pulled it out, and held it to the candle, "Roger and Marisa, together forever. Thatís so sweet. Oh! I got you something as well. Youíll love it! Be right back." He grabbed his keys from the jacket resting on their sofa and ran out the door to his truck. He returned a few moments later, carrying a box about a foot square and several feet long. He set it down in front of Marisa, who looked at it with ominous curiosity. Last year it was a bowling ball. The year before that, a tool set. Stuff that she couldnít care less about, but he found imminently useful.
Roger grinned at Marisa excitedly, "Címon, open it!" as he sat down on the sofa.
Marisa fiddled with the tape a little bit, before giving up and grabbing a hunk of wrapping paper and ripping a good sized piece away from the present. She tore off the rest in a similar fashion, and her jaw dropped when her present revealed itself before her. "Golf clubs. You got me golf clubs."
Roger hopped off the sofa, almost bouncing, and opened the box for her and pulling out one of the woods admiringly, "Arenít they great? Top quality stuff! The salesman said that Arnold Palmer himself used this brand."
Marisa looked at the clubs, then up at her husband. "Golf clubs. Fucking golf clubs."
Roger tilted his head curiously, "You donít like them?"
Marisaís face took only seconds to turn a violent red, "Donít like them? Of course I donít fucking like them! I hate golf! All you ever do is buy stuff for yourself! Everything is always about you! Iíve been so patient, hoping that youíd eventually come to your senses, but no. So far the best thing youíve ever done for me is bought me rubber gloves so--how did you say it? So I could wash the dishes and still have silky soft hands to jack you off with?" A tear started to run down her cheek, "I need some air."
Poor Sam decided that this was a good time to go while the getting was good. He hopped his front paws on the dining table and grabbed what was left of Rogers veal, running into the bedroom to enjoy his booty in peace.
Marisa grabbed her purse off the kitchen counter and stormed to the front door of the apartment.
"Hey Hey Hey!" Roger shouted, "Iím trying to be all romantic here, and this is the thanks I get? You can be such a bitch sometimes!"
Marisa swung around in mid step, pointing a finger at him accusingly, "Bitch am I? Iím not the bitch, you are. Youíre a total son of a bitch!" And with that, she stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her. She could hear loud and very imaginative language filter out from the furious Roger still in the apartment.
"Damn it! Why did I marry such a man? Sports and sex, thatís all he cares about!" Marisa thought to herself as she walked down the street near their building. She took a turn at an intersection and headed towards the conveniently close shopping district, a quaint set of small shops selling wares ranging from coffee to African carvings to used accordions. She always liked this street. There was something about the atmosphere that really warmed her, and she was thankful that she lived so close.
She continued to walk, lost in her own thoughts and sipping lightly at a hot chocolate she acquired from a corner cafť, when a strange ragged voice called out to her. "You look troubled, little lady."
She stopped and turned her head slowly in the direction of the voice. There, in the doorway of a closed antique store, was this old ragged looking woman. She was tempted to tell the bag lady to go screw off, her mood being what it was, but she immediately brought herself into check and calmed down a little. She nodded, "Yeah, me and my husband just had a big fight."
The old women nodded knowingly, "I see. Money?"
Marisa shook her head. She didnít know why she was talking to this woman, but she felt this growing need to just spill her guts to someone. Anyone. "No. Heís just such a dick, always thinking about himself. Stupid ignorant me keeps being patient and hoping that heíll change, but he wonít. He got me a set of frigginí golf clubs for our anniversary! Heís such a son of a bitch."
The old woman chuckled, "A son of a bitch is he? Well, perhaps that can be arranged."
Marisa looked at her quizzically, her eyebrows furrowing a little, "I donít follow."
The woman held out a gnarled hand, and between two fingers was a simple silver ring, "Take this."
Marisa shook her head, "I couldnít take it. Itís a lovely ring, but I couldnít accept this from you."
"Why? Because Iím a poor old woman? Hah! Consider this a gift from a woman who understands your plight all too well. Catch." With a flick of her wrist, she sent the ring flying into the air. Not knowing what else to do, Marisa caught it with her free hand, and examined it curiously.
The old woman continued, "As long as that ring is near him, anytime he says the word Ďbitchí he will be in for a surprise. I think youíll enjoy the results."
Marisa cocked one eyebrow and looked at the crone, "Is this like some kind of electronic dog leash or something?"
The old woman just grinned, "Youíll see. Now go home. Your loving husband is waiting for you."
Marisa smirked and glanced at the ring in her hand again, feeling somewhat dumbfounded by this whole series of events. "Well, thanks. I--" She looked up to where the old woman was standing, but only the empty entranceway of the store met her eyes. "Where?" she muttered as she looked down each direction of the sidewalk, but not seeing any hint of where the old woman may have gone. She looked down at the silver ring in her hand, now more for confirmation that her hot chocolate wasnít spiked with any illicit substances. Deciding not to take any chances, she tossed her cup into a nearby garbage bin and hurriedly made her way home.
When Marisa reached the door to her apartment, she slipped the ring into her pants pocket and opened the door. Stepping inside, her breath trapped in her throat as she saw the state of her apartment. One of the golf clubs that Roger bought was sitting comfortably inside the exploded screen of the television. Broken glass from the television tube was strewn across the floor, and one of the nice decorative plates that she had hung on the wall above the TV was in pieces on the other side of the room. As her eyes took in the sight around her, a thought jumped into the fore of her mind.
"SAM!" she yelled, "Where are you sweety?" She ran into the bedroom, looking around frantically for her dog. Peering into the dark, partially closed closet, she could see two eyes reflecting back at her. She dropped down to her knees and outstretched her arms, "Címere Sammy! Itís ok now!"
Sam poked his nose out of the closet, sniffing a little, then ran to Marisa, who immediately wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight, comforting the shivering dog, "Itís ok, sweety. itís ok." She petted Samís head and back, rubbing his ears in an effort to calm him down. Samís shivering eventually died down, and he rested warmly against his loving Mistress.
Her concern of Sam having been appeased, her anger exploded inside her like a box of TNT. She gave Sam another pat on the head and stood up, grabbing the phone beside the bed and calling the Police.
They arrived about ten minutes later, and she explained what had happened that evening. Although omitting only her strange meeting with that old woman, not wanting the police to think she was drunk. After assuring Marisa that they would do everything they could to find her husband, the left her to clean up the mess.
She grabbed a broom from the closet, and began sweeping the debris from the floor. It took her about an hour to get it all cleaned up, all the while hoping that her husband earned at least a couple good cuts from his tantrum. She put the golf clubs back into their bag and set them side, deciding to return them to the store tomorrow to get back the money Roger wasted on them. She picked up the now hollow television from its stand, and disposed of it in the large garbage container in the back of the building.
Having completed her chores, she let herself fall down on her bed, clothes and all, and promptly cried herself into a fitful sleep.
She woke up the next morning to the sound of keys fumbling noisily at the front door. She jumped up from the bed and walked out of the bedroom, to see a drunk Roger staggering through the doorway and slamming the door shut.
"What the hell did you think you were doing last night, you idiot?" she growled, shaking a fist at her husband.
"Huh?" Roger belched as he turned to look at Marisa, his eyes bloodshot. "Oh fuck off! Iím not in the mood. If you werenít such a bitch to me last night, I..." His voice trailed off, and he staggered into the kitchen, just barely reaching the sink before the contents in his stomach decided to abandon him in a violent fashion.
Marisa stared at him in revulsion as he puked last evenings veal into the sink. "Thank god we have a garbage disposal," she muttered to herself.
"I donít feel good," mumbled Roger, fumbling with his shirt, "Hot." He managed to wring off his beer-stained shirt and toss it onto the kitchen floor, and turned to face Marisa. He stepped towards her, now bare-chested, his skin looking somewhat redder than usual. "God I feel horny.." he mumbled as he started walking more quickly. As he got closer, Marisa noticed something odd. There were a series of bumps going down his chest, parallel to his nipples. Maybe 4 pairs in total.
He had this hollow look to his eyes as he came closer, as if his mind wasnít in the same reality as hers. She side-stepped him, and he walked right past her, heading into the bedroom. "Sammy!" he gruffed, "Címere. Show me that dog cock of yours."
Marisaís jaw dropped at this and followed him into the bedroom. She watched as he took off the remainder of his clothes, and stood naked in front of Sam. Samís tail wagged happily, the events of last night a distant memory. His cock quickly grew between his legs as he started sniffing between Rogers, and then licking. Roger let out a groan and turned around so that he was facing away from the dog, his own cock still completely limp. He got down on all fours, and Sam eagerly mounted him, thrusting against his ass and trying to penetrate.
Marisa stood, shell-shocked at the scene happening before her. "What the shit?" Then she remember the ring. She reached into her pocket, pulling it out and holding it in her palm. It was glowing. "He had called me a bitch earlier," she thought, "The old woman wasnít nuts."
She looked back up at her husband and pet, now very much into the heat of the moment as the dog drove his cock in and out of Rogers ass, Roger squirming in ecstasy as he was buggered. Marisa couldnít help but feel a little turned on herself as Sam had his way with Roger, that thick German Shepherd cock driving into Rogers ass over and over, the knot slowly expanding. After a few more thrusts, Sam lodged his entire length into Rogersí ass, the knot sealing them together. Roger just shuddered happily as he felt dog cum fill his guts, the 8 nubs going down his front now having grown larger so it was now obvious he had 10 nipples going down his body.
Having satisfied himself, Sam hopped off of Rogers back and stood there, butt to butt as they waited for the knot to shrink. Marisa, who hadnít realized that she had put her hands down her pants to rub herself, pulled her hand out again and grinned at the two. "The old woman was right," she thought, " I am going to enjoy this." She stepped over to then and kneeled down beside Sam, petting his head, "What a good boy! You liked that didnítcha? I think youíre gonna get to do that a whole lot more often sweety." Marisa grinned impishly at that last statement, and glanced over at Roger who was still holding still, breathing heavily and oblivious to the world.
Marisa laid down on the bed and gazed at the two curiously, still half thinking that this was some kind of dream, and thinking of the possibilities if this wasnít. After a short while, Sam finally pulled out of Rogers ass and padded off to the corner of the bedroom to lick himself clean. Roger on the other hand, collapsed onto the floor with a groan, and started looking back and forth, "What the hell happened?" He looked around the room, glancing at Sam, then down at himself, then up at a smiling Marisa, "Iím naked and my ass hurts." He stood up shakily, "What are you smiling about?" Marisa just giggled and pointed at his abdomen. Roger looked down at himself again, this time more carefully, and gasped at what he saw.
"What the hell is this?" Roger exclaimed. He pulled at a couple of the bumps, grunting painfully as he did, "What the hell are these?"
Marisa looked at them appraisingly, "Hmmm... They look kinda like nipples to me!"
Roger furrowed his eyebrows and glared at Marisa, "Nipples? What kind of crap is that?" He pulled at the nipples again, wincing again. "Son of a bitch that hurts!"
Marisa just grinned wider, licking her lips as another wave of nausea overcame Roger. He staggered backwards, eventually leaning against a wall for support, "Ugh... I feel weird." He felt a tingle around his groin and he looked down. It was shrinking! He looked up at Marisa, "What the fuck is going on here? Are you doing this?" He shuddered as his balls disappeared into his body, shortly followed by his once proud manhood. He dropped to his hands and knees, shuddering as the tingling continued inside his abdomen. After a few moments, the wave of nausea passed, and he stood back up shakily.
Roger glanced down at his groin and let out a gasp. Marina just grinned even wider. Rogers Mr. Happy had been replaced with a vagina, covered in a soft fine fur. He looked at Marina again, his anger now replaced by a wave of fear, "Whatís happening to me?"
Marina got up off the bed and reached out to touch the new opening. Roger stood transfixed as she start rubbing his cunt lips, the let out a gasp as she rubbed a little deeper. The feeling was so different from what he was used to. He stepped back in surprise, his anger returning. "What the hell are you doing? Whereís my cock?"
"Itís gone. Your changing," Marina explained.
"Into what?" Roger shouted. His voice, like his fear, was steadily rising.
"You donít need to shout. Youíre changing into a dog. A female dog."
Roger stammered, "A... a what? Thatís impossible? Thereís no way Iím turning into a bitch!"
A moment later, Roger buckled and fell to his hands and knees again, his body shaking. He looked up at Marina fearfully as his skin started to turn redder. The fur that had grown near his crotch spread around his legs and up his back. By the time his shakes stopped, most of his torso was covered with downy soft fur.
Sam watched all this with a detached interest, having heard them talk with loud voices before. But when Roger fell down again, something was different. He got a whiff of it earlier when Roger first entered the room and it excited him. But here it is again, even stronger than before. Roger was very much in heat! Well, Sam being the nice dog he is, got up and decided to help this poor horny lass by moving behind Roger and licking at the delicious orifice between his legs.
Roger, who was temporarily disoriented during the shift, began to groan as the probing tongue slide across his new vagina. He squirmed at the sensation, the new and oh so delicious sensation. His mind grew hazy, and once again he was lost in the animal lust that the transformation infused him with.
Marisa watched this repeat performance with great interest. Her hand dipped under the waistband of her pants and she began rubbing herself as she watched Sam had his way with Roger.
Samís tongue lapped eagerly into Rogerís pussy, the succulent juices starting to flow freely now. After a few more licks, Sam decided it was time for the real fun to begin, and mounted Roger once more. This time, It wasnít quite so difficult finding a hole to penetrate, and Samís cock slid easily into Rogers ripe new cunt. Roger gasped as he felt something inside him rip from the thrust, and he whimpered a little, but the pain was quickly replaced by intense pleasure as his new dog lover started thrusting in and out briskly in his tight tunnel.
Marisa watched her husbandís face as it contorted in pleasure, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water from his rapid breathing. She grinned widely, "Enjoying yourself?"
Roger could only nod weakly, his head bouncing around from the strong thrusts of the canine behind him.
"You like being fucked donít you? Being bred like a bitch in heat."
Roger again nodded, a wide grin forming under his tightly shut eyes.
"Tell me what you are, Roger," commanded Marisa, as she begin finger-fucking herself.
"Iím a bitch!" he growled huskily, the transformation continuing as soon as the word escapes his mouth. The fur traveled further up his body and covered him from his feet to the neck. Roger didnít even notice, so entranced was he in the solid fucking that beautiful male was giving him. Soon Sam will tie and cum in her, and she will produce a litter of pups for him.
"Youíre a bitch in heat. Say it."
"Iím a bitch in heat! I wanna get fucked over and over! A hot bitch in heat!"
Marisa moaned herself as she watched her husband further transform, legs and arms shrinking and reshaping into canine legs, the fur getting bushier and the beginnings of a muzzle forming on his face.
"I canít hear you! What are you?"
Roger opened her eyes and glared at her Mistress, boggled by the incredibly poor hearing when she can easily identify a cricket several houses away. "Iím a bitch, damn it! B I T C H, bitch!" Then a look of horror came over her face as that little shred of what is still Roger finally put two and two together.
"Iíll kill you!" Roger tried to move to lunge at Marisa, who turned white and yanked her hand out of her pants so she could scramble to the other side of the bed. But there was another growl from behind Roger, and Sam grabbed Rogerís scruff in his muzzle, holding it firmly so the insolent female would take the treasure in his balls as was her duty to. Roger squirmed a little, but her instincts were too strong and submitted to the will of her new mate as his knot expanded in her cunt, locking them together.
Roger closed her eyes and groaned softly, feeling hot canine cum fill her new canine body. Her nose and jaw extended fully as the transformation completed, giving her a full and proper muzzle. She felt a wash of intense pleasure flow all over her, feeling like she was finally whole again. It was an unsettling feeling, having that angry alien presence in her mind, but now that it had fled, she could focus completely on the delicious attentions of her mate. She opened her eyes and panted, a warm red tongue flopping out of the side of her muzzle as she enjoyed the thick cock inside her, the strong jaws of her mate holding her gently but firmly in place. Yes, she and her new mate would give the world many pups. Perhaps expand the small threesome that their pack currently enjoys to a larger, more reasonable number.
Marisa just watched as the two dogs in front of her finished their copulating, wondering if there was still any Roger left. "Roger? Are you in there?" The female dog in front of her just panted and looked at her patiently, hoping that some food might be provided after she finally separates from her mate.
Marisaís grin returned with flair, and she jumped over to her dresser to dig for her Polaroid.
Finally finding it, she yanked it out and snapped a few pictures, getting the pair from all sorts of angles while they were still tied. She set the pictures aside to dry and walked boisterously into the kitchen to get herself a drink of water, leaving the two lovers to enjoy some privacy. She paced around the living room, waiting for the adrenaline rush from what just happened to taper off. After gulping down one more glass, she calmly returned to the bedroom to find the two dogs separated and curled up on the floor together snoozing. She smiled and snapped one more picture with the camera, and pulled out a pen to date this new piece of history.
"Lessee... June 1999, Sam and... and... hmm..." She glanced at the female laying on the floor, so peaceful and serene. "June 1999, Sam and Rubyís honeymoon."
Son of a Bitch copyright 2000 by Starwolf Moonchaser.
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