My best friend’s lap is as comfy as ever, and it’s made all the better by the occasional trail of her fingers against my ear. I nuzzle a little against the warmth of her thighs, letting out a sigh of relief. It’s times like this where I almost wish she was my girlfriend.
“Hey. Stop that.”
It’s times like this, on the other hand, that I wish she wasn’t psychic.
“Want to say a prayer while you’re at it? It’ll do you about as much good.” She smiles down to me, radiant as ever.
I sigh and roll my eyes. “Hey, ease up on the religion jokes.”
“How come? You’re not Catholic.”
“I was,” I mutter under my breath, before looking up to her with a small smirk. “But I think spending so much time with you means that I’d burst into flames if I entered a church again.”
“Hey, you’re the one who wishes you were hotter.”
I shift my posture a little, before looking back to her with a small frown on my face. “Seriously, though. It’s just a word, and we’re basically there already.” I know I’ve lost already though, and I drop my head into her lap with a small sigh.
“And if it’s ‘just a word’, then we don’t need to use it. Be happy with what we have. Or else?” She offers the last bit as a lighthearted joke, but it doesn’t quite cut the threat of her words… Or the thrill of them. There’s something about the unknown that I find immediately appealing.
“Now you’re tempting me.”
“I’m serious,” she continues, tutting. Her fingers comb through my hair in that teasingly pleasing fashion I’ve gotten so used to, and I hum to myself. “Because if you make me use my magic, I can guarantee you’re going to be my best friend from now on, and there’s no going back from that.”
“Sounds like it’s what you want,” I reply, “and if it breaks this crush then it might just be worth it.”
Her petting intensifies, and I let out a small groan of delight. It feels like her pets along my ears are getting longer and longer, with slow and delectably savorable motions. Every stroke of her hands makes me curl a bit tighter with delight, to the point where I think this was all some test, and she really does want something more with me.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Her voice is a quiet whisper, yet I can hear it as loudly as if she’d spoken into my ear. I feel a stirring between my legs, and I press my face a little closer to her thighs.
“Whhhyyy?” I drag out the word until it’s almost a whine. “It’s feels so goooood...” The feeling between my legs grows, and I realize it’s the heat of arousal. My heart beats slowly at first, but every breath of her presence makes it pound faster and faster.
“Oh, I know it does. After all. Good boys get to feel the best.”
I’m not an idiot, much as I might feel like one at times. I know she’s talking to me like she’d talk to a dog. I also know this is the best feeling of my life, and I don’t care at all. The only thing that matters is how warm she is, how hot I feel…
Before I realize what I’m doing, I roll onto my belly, face between her legs and erection pressed to the soft cushion of our couch. I hump into it with a delirious groan, feeling that nerve-tingling rush that comes from purest pleasure.
It’s not enough. I need more. I love this so much, but I need more. My face presses closer to her, and I move my hands to my pants. Frantically, I tug them down, but it still doesn’t feel right.
“Of course it doesn’t feel right. Good boys don’t wear clothes. You want to be a good boy, don’t you?”
I whimper into her crotch, trapped in a situation I’d have found laughable just minutes ago. I can’t deny that she’s right though. I tug my legs to my ankles, frantically kicking my legs as I grab at my shirt. It means that I need to abandon the warmth of my owner for a second, but it’s a necessity to be a good boy.
I catch a glimpse of something on my arms, and I jerk back in surprise. It looks like some kind of hair, and my first though is that a giant fuzzy caterpillar latched onto me somehow. The truth is just as bizzare; however, as a closer look reveals that it’s fur.
“Aw, I was wondering when you noticed. I thought you were supposed to be smart.” She coos into my ears, stroking her fingers up and down their length. Said length is much greater than should be possible, and feels almost triangular-tipped.
“What’s going on?” I blink, tugging at the hairs. It hurts, just like I was pulling on the hairs atop my head.
“Maybe I could make it clearer to you. Witch got your tongue, boy?” She coos, reaching her hands towards my mouth.
I know I should push her away, but it’s that damned curiosity of mine again. I let her put her slender fingers into my mouth, and I can feel them playing with my tongue. It starts with a low, squishing motion and soon grows into a kneading massage.
Then she tugs like she’s working dough, and my tongue stretches to at least five times it’s length. “Awhoulp.” I say, which I think is remarkably salient given the fact that I can see a significant portion of my massive tongue.
“You always were a wordsmith,” she laughs, letting my tongue go. It falls to my chest, flopping past my chin with a wet impact that I can feel both on my tongue and chest alike. “I think I’ll miss that most about you. Well, that and your cooking.”
I try to reply, but the best I can manage is a wet snarfle that slaps my tongue against my chest again. This time it meets fur instead of flesh, and I find that the hairs have grown since I last saw them, like leaving a fire unwatched. They cover most of my body, leaving me fluffy and warm with a strange desire to be pet and preened.
“Not so strange when you think about it. Tell me, boy… What do you know about Alaskan Malamutes?” She laughs when she notices I don’t know much at all, and I let out a small whimper. Then she places those wonderful hands around my cheeks, cheeks which bristle with long and plush fur. “Then, let me show you.”
My head falls into her lap again, arms growing weak beneath me. They fall to my furry sides, which quake with every breath I take. My tongue flops across her thigh, but she doesn’t seem to mind much. I know why: because she’s going to give me a muzzle.
Slowly, instinctively, my hips wiggle back and forth. My breath starts to come in sharper and deeper, chest rising and falling, rising and falling. Both of these motions stimulate me again, and I start to hump at the cushions once more.
“Someone’s a horny pup. You’re barely waiting for me to start,” she croons, mock-hurt in her tone. Her hands work around my face, and my jaws ache as they stretch.
My whole back tenses with the motion, especially as her fingers curl under my nostrils, tugging them and widening them into a properly sized canine snout. Cool, wet freshness tingles across my new nose, and I slop my tongue against it instinctively. When I pull my tongue back in, I notice each of my teeth have lengthened, growing a bit sharper, a bit less well-kept. My breath tastes like a dog’s, but the flavor is familiar instead of alien.
All of this feels so good, and I let out my first instinctive bark. “Rrruff!” I gasp, ears twitching atop my head with bliss. My hands move to my cock, and I desperately try to start touching myself, to bring more of this pleasure to the forefront.
“See? So much easier to give in. But, I don’t think you should do it like a person. After all, you’re going to be my pet dog.”
I don’t know when I realized that I was becoming a dog. I don’t know if I realized it. Her words make so much sense, but I can’t stop. I squeeze my eyes shut, drooling, panting, rubbing my furry cheeks on her thighs and nuzzling her until—my hands stop why did they stop?
I whimper, I whimper as loudly as I can. I want to feel more, I need to feel more. My hands don’t work right though. My palms feel swollen, and my fingers are stiff. I bring my hands forward to try and get a good look at them, and in the process my shoulders pop.
My arms are locked forward, but that doesn’t bother me as much as the sight of thick, fluffy dog paws at the ends of my furry wrists. “Whrrrut’s gorwwwng awwrn?” I slur around my muzzle. I tilt my head to look up at her, unwilling to move more of my body because that would mean sacrificing some of the pleasure of the cushion beneath me.
“I literally just told you, you silly pooch. Or maybe it’s because you’re a horny puppy? My horny puppy…”
Those last three words set something off in me, and I whimper, thrusting at air and feeling something change in my cock. A warm pouch envelops it, tugging it and lifting it towards my belly. It’s a canine sheath, and it leaves me locked in a state of bliss I’d never even dreamed of.
I can’t speak can barely think want to hump cushion so I do. I hump and drool because it feels good and feeling good boy means I’m a good boyyynn…
“It’s not enough, is it? Don’t worry, boy.”
I look up to her with a strangled beg-whine. Please, something, anything. I need to feel better, need to—legs. She’s moved her legs so that they’re straddling me, and they’re so warmly pressing against my furry flanks. I roll to the left and left leg tucks beneath me. Then to the right, so her right can.
“Up,” she commands, and I wriggle atop her, feeling my furry sheath between her thighs and lying my long muzzle between her breasts. She laughs at that, and tugs on her shirt, lifting my head up for a second before tugging it over my perked ears, pressing my close against her.
She’s not wearing a bra today. How have I never noticed that horny so horny oh my god her breasts not notice how horny! I lose control again and love it, humping her thighs loving her thighs woof for master she’s my master yes woof!
“Wow, you’re totally gone, aren’t you? Then how about we take it a step further, hm?” Her fingers trail around the small of my back, and my legs curl and crack and pop into good boy dog legs. “You’ll lose yourself more and more every time I say your new name. You like that, Bear?”
Love! Hump harder more pleasure, curling toes as they change and stretch! Can feel big toes pulling up legs, can feel paw pads soft can feel softer thighs against my sheath hump and woof and pant! I can’t think don’t want to think need her owner need her
“What’s that, Bear?” She pets my tailbone more and something feels really food there but more—
More! Bear! Name mine Bear she calls me it and I hump harder and faster and quick thrusts drooling on her. I’m drooling on her? I am but she doesn’t look upset good because more, more please call again master what if I whine please call again “Hyyyyyyn!”
“My. Bear.” This time she grabs her breasts and sandwiches my long, furry muzzle between them and everything is a dream come true.
Humps harder and faster balls aching and swelling and furry too everything’s furry everything softttail I have a tail now it stretches and wags and “WOOF! RRRWOOOF! WOOF!” More needs more goodwwarmhump moremoreee!
Hands grab my muzzle and pull me back, pushing me off her “HYYYN!” I whine, WHINE and look up to her.
“You’re a dog in everything but mind.” She speaks slowly but it’s all so obvious and I strain to thrust at something, anything. “And if you want to be that way forever, if you want to be my pet, all you need to do is finish up like a dog.”
She lets my head go and no thought at all, just covering my cock with my muzzle, tasting myself, licking myself, long tongue gliding across furry sheath and cockhead. Head feels so slick, tongue feels so rough, mouth so wet and moist that I cumm “ARRRRROOOO!”
Cheeks bulge with howl and cum and I swallow every drop and lick up and look at owner tail wagging. Bear is a good boy Bear is her best friend Bear loves her loves her loves!
“Little bit ironic that I did this so you’d stop loving me.” Owner laughs and I’m happy dunno why she laughs but happy! Tail wags and nuzzles back into her thighs perfect lap cushion for cuddles and snuggles and pets…
Sleepy…