(Male to Female to Dog)

“Uh… So… What’s the point to this collar, again?” I laugh anxiously, curling my finger around my new neckwear.

My it’s-complicated—I’d like to call her a girlfriend, she’d like to call me an acquaintance with benefits—sighs, and clicks her fingers, like a genie granting a wish. “You remember how you wanted to be by my side always, right?”

“Yeah, but I’d imagined more of a wedding band, and less of a… Well, you know. Choker?” I try to be flippant about it, but I can’t deny that my heartrate’s increased just by the gesture.

“Aw, poor baby.” She coos, trailing her fingers along my cheek. Her touch is so soft that I can almost feel its silkiness imparting on my face. I echo her caress with a brush of my own fingers, and in doing so receive the first sign that something’s awry.

My cheek is smooth, utterly bereft of any of its usual roughness. I’m not a hairy guy, by any means of the word, but by the afternoon I usually sport some form of stubble. Instead, it feels like I’m touching a mirror of her cheek.

“Poor girl,” She continues, a twinkle of devilry in her eyes.

I flush, then groan as she presses her hands against my chest. Breasts swell to meet her questing fingers, and as she gropes me I shrink. My muscles lose their tone, my hips curve, and my manhood… Well, it’s almost spelled the same, I guess.

“What are you doing?” Even my husky voice screams of sultry, feminine appeal. I whimper up to her, arching my smooth back, pressing my ample backside into my couch’s cushion. “Everything feels…”

“Good?” She smirks playfully, then pressed her lips to mine. Her slender legs straddle mine, our soft thighs pressing against one another. I feel her breasts against mine, my nipples sinking into their tender heft and eliciting a whimper of pleasure from my helpless form.

“Yes…” I look up to her, nothing but adoration in my eyes. Who’d have thought that simply becoming a woman would make all my dreams come true? My long hair frames a halo behind my head, and every inch of my body feels flushed and hot.

“Good girl.” Comes her reply, and with it a tingling, warm, itching wave of sensation.

My body doesn’t feel right anymore, like the world is too warm and too tight all at once. I wriggle beneath my object of desire, but feel like I’m about to burst from my skin. “Something’s wrong, I feel really funny,” I whimper and squeeze my eyes shut. “I feel… I feel…”

Fur bursts from me with an audible fwumpf, long and silky hairs eating up the space between the two of us. I feel it especially between my breasts, under my chin, pushing against the collar… I angle my head downwards, finding a thick ruff of fur.

“You look funny.” She coos, leaning in close to me, stroking my ears. I can feel them lifting, growing triangular, better able to house all their fur. I can also feel her breath against their larger tips, the gentle warmth of her voice as she says, “My good girl.”

My face creaks outwards, teeth sharpening and tongue lengthening in my new snout. I feel my nose scrunch upwards, darkening and drying out at the same time. I slop my wet mass of a tongue against it a few times to moisten it, then whimper in distress at just how canine an action that was.

“Whrrat arrre yughh…” It’s hard to talk now, my brain not quite reaching my changed mouth. I almost feel like I’m drunk, struggling to check every word I say. She presses closer to me, and I feel my breasts sinking into my chest, even as new teats rise to mash against her belly.

It feels even better than breast-to-breast contact, and I wriggle in a distinctly canine fashion. “Warrrnnaarrr…” I try to beg her for more, a tail slipping from my spine just so it can wag frantically beneath me.

“What do you want, my good girl? Go on, beg me like the animal you are.” She tugs at my collar, and I give into her every desire, her every command.

My arms and legs change next, just to let me beg like a dog. I feel my shoulders and hips relocate, and my forearms press against her sides in a collie’s best approximation of a hug. She still straddles me, so my furry legs are stretched out below me.

It keeps me from seeing my feet as they shudder and devolve into paws. Her gorgeous face keeps me from seeing my hands change, my vision totally consumed with the sight of her. I beg. I whimper. I try and press against her, but my back can’t bend the way it used to.

“Good girl. Good girl. Good girl.” She says other words between those, but I can’t understand them anymore. I don’t need to understand them. The only thing that matters to me right now is how good she’s making her girl feel. I’m her girl. She’s my master. She owns me.

The submissive thoughts send a shudder of pleasure through my body. I quickly slurp at my own lips, marveling at how much of my pointed muzzle takes up my vision. I can always see it just out of the corner of my eyes, a constant reminder that I’m less than human.

Not that I want to be human. Not that I was ever human. Thinking of my time on two legs is getting cloudier, a fog keeping me safe from the times when I wasn’t Master’s good girl. I lick at her lips dumbly, not thinking to ask for permission because since when have I let anything but impulse govern my life?

She makes that happy sound, the singsong sound that makes my tail wag harder and harder and harder still. I love this, I love her. I’m the best pet ever, and that’s why I have the best Master ever. I bark, but a quiet one so that she doesn’t pull away from me. I want her close, I like these cuddles.

Master shows her teeth in a friendly sort of way, then rolls me onto my back. I wonder why before I feel her arms slipping around my collar, feel her holding my close. If it was any other person, I wouldn’t like to feel as helpless as I do now. With Master, it’s a perfect reminder that I’m safe with her.

My collar jingles quietly, and I let my tongue loll from my mouth. She nuzzles against the back of my furry head, my ears folding momentarily as her chin passes over them. It’s perfect, warm, and every bit the fulfilment I need in my life.