(Mass TF, People to Various Animals, M and F to Dogs)

The little timer at the center of the table beeped, its sound a welcome reprieve from the idle chatter. For most people.

Roger flinched, almost crushing his little plastic cup of water. “Oh, uh. So. Is that… That time?” He set the cup down, wiping his hands on the thighs of his slacks. He idly wondered if he should have bought some nicer pants for this, then if that would even matter given that they were sitting the whole time.

Lianne gave him a small, sympathetic smile from across the table. “Yeah. Five minutes. Barely enough time to…” She trailed off, twirling her hand in an aimless circle in the air.

“Right?” Roger leaned on the table, a little too enthusiastically. It wobbled and nearly tipped Lianne’s drink. She laughed, a musical note.

She was nice like that. At least, that’s what he assumed from the few minutes they’d had to chat. She was pretty too, way too good-looking for a systems analyst like himself. But she was also already gathering up her purse, smoothing out her blouse.

“Well… Nice meeting you, Roger,” she offered him a friendly smile. “You think maybe when this is done, we can go out to a bar somewhere?”

Roger’s heart leapt with hope. “W-wait, like… Really? I mean, you wouldn’t mind?”

Her eyes twinkled. But before she could reply, the main doors to the hall cracked open like a gunshot. The cheesy ambient music that the hosts had set up trailed off with a warble, as a tall, professionally dressed woman strutted into the room. Her long hair flowed perfectly onto her suit-jacket, and she popped her ruby-painted lips, as though she’d just applied lipstick before heading in here. Maybe she had.

“What a dreadful, dystopian way to find a partner,” she called out. For some reason, her voice carried perfectly through the hall despite her speaking at a conversational tone.

The event organizer, who suddenly looked far less nicely-dressed, took a nervous step forward. “Excuse me, this is a private-”

The mystery woman lifted a finger towards her, not even bothering to look at her. To Roger’s surprise, the event organizer’s jaw snapped shut, as though she’d been electrocuted. Her eyes were wide with terror.

“All this talking, judging, putting on a pathetic little performance,” the stranger sighed. “This isn’t romance, this is… Well, it’s pretending. It’s like you’re all animals on a stage.”

Her eyes lit up a little bit, as she pointed towards different tables. “You just want an obedient little pet. You’re looking for a savage beast, though not as anything permanent. Does your husband know? And you… Well, you’re actually decent, I’ll be sure to be nice.”

Roger saw the tables she’d point to fidget unsurely, and was very glad that she hadn’t pointed his way. He didn’t even know what he’d do if she picked on him.

“Anyways, it’s all so… inefficient. Guesswork, words, play-acting. I have a much quicker way to go about this. Let’s start with these two, they look like they’d be at home in the water.” She gestured towards a rather average-looking pair at a table. It was just a gesture, without any spectacle, light, or anything at all to indicate something very, deeply magical had happened.

At least, not until the man and woman both gasped, clutching their throats. They looked to be choking for a second, then the two found voices – though the voices weren’t their own.

“OURT!”

“ARR ARR ARF!”

Roger felt a grip on his arm, and glanced down to find Lianne was holding onto him, her face a mask of shock. Despite the panic he was feeling, he had to admit this moment was nice. Even if it was soon shattered by returning his attention to the barking couple.

The two of them swelled.

The man’s blazer split down the back slowly, each seam popping one at a time. Thick, soft flesh spilled from the breaks in the seams, though it wasn’t fat. It looked glossy, almost blubbery. It was a slick, almost oily gray. His legs, drummed against the floor for a moment, before locking together, fusing. His slacks burst from him as a single, massive, finned tail replaced his lower half.

The woman reached out to him, but her hands weren’t hands. Her fingers flattened, squishing together, merging into broad, leathery flippers. Her eyes were round in fear at first, then rounder as they bulged from her head, huge, black, liquid pools of terror.

Whiskers sprouted from their stretching faces, their snouts. Their chairs splintered beneath them, and they landed on the floor with a pair of heavy thuds that Roger could swear he felt through the ground. Their hair fell from their heads, leaving them a pair of naked, fat, slick, terrified seals.

“ORT! HHARPH!”

“OARK!”

There was a moment of relative silence, only occassionaly interrupted by the barking of the two new animals.

Then, everyone with a functioning fight or flight reflex bolted. Screams filled the air, chairs clattering to the ground as people tried to make it for the doors.

Lianne’s grip on Roger’s arm tightened. “We have to-”

The strange woman, the witch, sighed. It was the exact kind of sigh a teacher would give at a disruptive student. “So rude of you to ignore someone trying to help.” This time, she stomped her foot.

Roger shuddered as a humid, oily feeling passed over him. He looked to Lianne helplessly, seeing her shudder too. Nothing seemed to happen to them, and their hearts hammered in fear. What even was that?

The answer came as the invisible wave hit the fleeing crowd.

“AAAAH! PLEASE HEEUAAWLP HAWW!”

“GET MEEHHUH AUUUWT UFFF HRRRAWW!”

“THE DOOR’S LAAWWWWKED! HEEEE HAWWWN’T HEE-HAWW!”

The rush people turned into a stampede of donkeys. Fellow daters dropped onto all fours, kicking their hind legs, spines loudly popping and cracking in a staccato beat. Everyone had worn such nice clothes, only to have said clothes shredded by bulk and shaggy fur in shades of gray and brown.

Faces, some of which Roger recognized from previous dates, were pulled into dopey snouts. Straight teeth, missing teeth, unkept teeth, all thickened into idiot donkey grins. Long ears shot up from their heads, a few womens’ earrings jingling mockingly, almost lost to the dense hairs.

Thick tails burst from their backsides, swishing behind jacks’ thick asses and jennies’ dark udders. Hooves clattered loudly against the ground, as well as dull muted thumps as the animals crashed into each other, their hides thumping into each others’ like drums, their panic blocking the exit.

Roger looked around the room, finding a few other couples at their tables. It looked like everyone who’d stayed put had been spared that fate… But was that even a good thing? He looked over to Lianne, seeing her shaking like the room had dropped to subzero temperatures. Her hand clutched at his arm, and he reached out to give it a squeeze back.

“Now,” the witch’s voice was calm and pleasant, as if this was a routine occurrence. Maybe it was. “Let’s continue. Sit at your tables, and I’ll find you all your perfect matches.”

She started by gliding towards two strangers that looked like they’d just come from the gym. Roger remembered seeing them stick together, ignoring the timers for each other’s company, and flexing at anyone who tried to separate them.

“Take these two, for example. Such perfect bodies, all that effort, time wasted. Tedious hours spent at the gym when it could be in each others’ company. How about I help you,” the witch slid behind the man, rubbing his shoulders, “let it go?”

He grunted in confusion. “Hrrnk-OINK!?” His eyes widened at the strange sound. All of his toned muscles seemed to sink back into the thickening, pink fat of his body. His six-pack sagged over his gym shorts. His toned biceps and thighs lost all definition, just heavy fat trapped beneath a rose-tinted hide.

“Whrrnk! What’re you – HHRREE!”

His partner stared in shock, mouthing desperate, silent protests. Then she too started to swell. Her slender, lithe body bulged, hips widening, gut bulging, thighs clenching together for a moment in stubborn defiance before pink fat tore them apart.

“Oh, dear, don’t look that upset. I hear that curvy is quite a good look right now.” The witch grabbed the man’s face, stroking it, pushing it into a muzzle.

“HRREEE! SKREEE!” He shrieked, his nose pushing up at her touch, nostrils flaring. His broad jaw jutted out into a muzzle with a thick overbite, small tusks poking over his bottom lip. His eyes darkened, looking beady, confused.

The woman’s changes were a mirror of his own. She pawed at her face, even as her fingers and toes fused, nails thickening, hardening. She tried to press against her stretching nose, against her floppy, pink ears. She might as well have been trying to fight the wind. “RUUIIIII!”

The witch laughed, taking a step back and twirling her fingers in a slow, corkscrewing motion.

The two pigs toppled from their chairs, landing on the floor, shuddering as curly, pink tails stretched out from their bodies. The tails wriggled frantically, and the two pigs squealed in… Discomfort? Roger didn’t know.

The two looked at each other for a moment, staring at each other, eyes clouding over. Then they lowered their snouts the floor, snuffling wetly at it, finding crumbs of some previous event mashed into the carpet. The two of them started to lick dopily at the same spot, clearly the only thought on their mind hunger.

Roger looked back to Lianne, worried. He didn’t even know what he could say. They’d just met five minutes ago, but this terror had made it feel like they’d known each other for decades.

He returned his attention to the witch to find she’d approached a table that was trying to talk with her, trying to reason with her.

“I assure you, whatever this is, whatever your grievance with this tradition is, we can discuss it rationally.” The man’s voice trembled slightly as he spoke, but he didn’t slip over a single word. Roger wondered if he was a professor or a politician.

“And you two… All that thinking has to be positively exhausting,” the witch sighed, and a look of panic settled across the couples’ eyes. “Don’t you just want to be… Simpler?”

She placed her hands on both of their heads at once, and the two immediately bulged. It wasn’t like either of the previous couples. These two were swelling with mass, with muscle and fur.

Whatever rational plea the man had next turned into a deep, guttural grunt. His jacket literally exploded from his body, shredded wool fluttering to the ground, revealing that his arms were lengthening as they were bulging. His hands were swelled too, fingers turning into thick, powerful stumps.

“HOO! OOH HOO!” The woman grunted, scratching her own thickening fingers against her body, easily tearing through her dress. The motion revealed thick, black, shaggy fur. She leaned forward to scratch at her rump, only to grunt as her body forced her into a low, knuckle-walking crouch.

Their glasses snapped off their growing heads, as their brows bulged and thickened into heavy ridged. Their jaws jutted out. The two of them looked at each other, eyes dulling. A trickle of drool trailed down their lips for a moment.

Then the man, now a full gorilla, rose to a crouching stance, thumping his chest with his huge, flat hands. He wasn’t trying to threaten the witch, or even to impress the female. He was just doing it because he wanted to.

The female gorilla, only slightly smaller than him, snorted a gobbet of mucus onto her shredded former clothes, scratching her furry side as she looked around the room in confusion. She seemed to take express interest in the terrified donkeys in the corner.

The witch laughed, gliding past the pigs, stopping at Roger and Lianne’s table.

Roger’s blood felt like it turned to ice. Lianne whimpered, tears dewing at her eyes.

The witch smiled, and it was the most terrifying thing Roger had seen, because it looked genuinely affectionate. What could that even mean? Was that good? Bad?

“Well, you two are positively adorable together. I can tell, if I just let you walk away, you’d become quite the pair. But I can’t exactly going around leaving witnesses, can I?”

“P-p-please…” Roger stammered.

“Ssh,” the witch reached out, petting Roger’s hair.

To his surprise, a jolt of pleasure shot through him. It was warm, wonderful, tingling pleasure that radiated from his head to his fingertips, down his spine to his toes. His knees went weak and it was suddenly a very good thing that he’d stayed seated.

“That’s right. You’re a good boy, aren’t you? Didn’t even try to run, waiting for me like such a wonderfully trained puppy,” the witch cooed.

Lianne hiccupped with a sob, but remained frozen, unsure of what to do.

The witch stroked Roger’s cheek, and his face flowed like wax. He could feel his upper lips drooping into thicker jowls, or flews, or whatever they were supposed to be called. It was still so pleasurable, a nice, warm comfort behind it.

“Whhuhff?” he tried talking, but his lips felt so rubbery and thick. His nose felt cold too, and he snuffled curiously, picking up everything from the sweat of the pigs three tables down to the delightful perfume Lianne was wearing.

“Aw, even now, he’s thinking about you. You’re going to be one lucky bitch, you know?” The witch chirped.

Roger thought the words sounded nice, but it looks like they upset Lianne. He whined a little, worried about her. His tongue swelled, suddenly too thick for his mouth. He let it loll out past his lips, and it hung well below his chin. He started to pant. “Hhhuh…huh…huh…”

“Aww, you like that, boy?” The witch scratched behind his ears, thickening them, stretching them, making them so big and wonderful.

It was like his soul was wrapped in a warm, fluffy blanket. “Hhhuhuh… hhuhhuh… Whuff…” He wriggled in his clothes, which felt too tight. A few buttons popped off his dress shirt. He leaned a little bit more into the pets, too much. He fell from his chair, dropping onto… Paws?

He hadn’t even felt his hands and feet change. He didn’t even know if they did change. They were big, massive, furry, black things. When he tried to wiggle his fingers and toes, his black claws scratched at the carpet.

The witch kept petting him, kept scratching him, kept pleasing him.

A massive, thick tail burst from his spine, just so he could wag it. It thumped against the chair beside him, again and again. It felt so good. Too good. He didn’t know why he was worried. He was happy. He shook his fur, and the scraps of his clothes fluttered from him.

“What’s your name, big boy? Are you a… Duke? You look like a Duke.”

It was like someone had flipped the lights out in his brain for a moment. He paused, shuddered, eyes rolling slightly as the name imprinted into him. Duke. Duke. He was Duke. He blinked repeatedly, stupidly, thoughts trickling through his mind like loose fingers trying to hold water.

“Y-yip!”

Duke’s ears, heavy, floppy ears, twitched. That was a good sound. that wasn’t his sound. It was… Lianne? He turned his massive head, finding that the woman was being scratched behind the ears, just like he was.

“Aww, so pretty, so delicated… You’re not at all big and clumsy like Duke, are you? If anything, you’re more of a Duchess.”

Duchess nuzzled her face into the witch’s hands, kicking her legs, which were dangling freely from her chair. She was getting smaller, more delicate even. White, thick, curly fur was poofing from her hair, her wrists, her ankles, her chest, her tail. It was poofy, so much that the witch had a hard time stripping some of her old clothes away.

Her face stretched out into a pretty, delicate, pointed snout. Her eyes darkened slightly, all traces of fear gone. She wiggled her tail a little more, pleasingly fluffing it out a little more. “HhARF! ARF!” She licked the witch’s hands excitedly as the witch petted her more.

Duke’s tail thumped harder, and he looked to Duchess eagerly, letting out a quiet, deep “Whuff.”

She turned her attention to him, hopping out of her chair, leaning close and licking his jowls, his muzzle. She wagged her tail more, moving past his lips to nuzzle into his shoulder, sniffing his fur and letting him sniff hers. She smelled perfect.

The witch laughed. “Good dogs. A Newfoundland and a French poodle. If anything, I’d say I’ve outdone myself. Now wait her for a moment, Master has some more people to introduce.”

Duke and Duchess, now two very good, VERY stupid dogs, sat and watched, rubbing their sides against each other. Their old human minds were buried by a warm, simple fog.

Technically, Duke could hear the words Master was saying to the humans at the table. But the words weren’t meant for him, so they were just noise. It looked like the people weren’t happy about the words, though.

Then they got big. Really big, bigger than Duke even. They made loud noises that kind of sounded like “MRRROOO!”

Duchess pressed a little closer to Duke, whining anxiously. He rubbed his face against the back of her head, then licked her cheek. Was she scared of them? That wasn’t good, she had to remember he’d be there to protect her.

Meanwhile, the two strange people grew fur, white with splotches of black. Pointed, sharp things sprouted from their heads. Their ears got big, but straight out, not at all like Duke’s. The woman, Duke was proud of himself for noticing she was female, made some weird sounds as her two teats turned pink, merging together and then moving down between her legs.

Then both of the new animals just… Stood there. Were they dumb or something? Duke was blissfully unaware of the irony of his own thoughts, as he watched the two begin to chew. They weren’t eating or anything, there was no food around. But somehow they were able to chew. Weird.

And boring.

The witch half-turned, as if she’d heard Duke’s thoughts. “Well, now… For any of you who’re bored…”

Duke whimpered guiltily.

“…How about you enjoy your new partner, hm?”

Duke blinked. Did that mean something? Enjoy? Partner? He looked around, confused. Across the room, those blubber-dogs had moved on top of each other, and were making their weird barks into each others’ snouts. Was that what enjoying was?

Duchess licked the bottom of Duke’s muzzle, and he looked down to see her panting eagerly. She wagged her tail, wriggling her hips. He caught some of her scent and realized what Master wanted, which was great because it’s what he wanted too.

He clumsily stood up on his big paws, and Duchess yipped too, bounding in a small circle, then leaning back towards him, chest down, rear up, tail fanning her scent straight at him. Even he wasn’t dumb enough to miss this signal.

He moved behind her, putting his massive front paws on her delicate, thin-furred back. The toes of his paws brushed against the thick poofy white fur that covered her chest. She whimpered needily, holding firm despite his weight.

He thrust. He missed. He let out a whuff of frustration. Duchess wriggled beneath him, positioning herself a little better. His next thrust found her, and he near-collapsed onto her, feeling her warmth grip him, feeling her furry, delicate body trembling so warmly that-

“PHRROOOOOMPH!”

Loud! Duke and Duchess looked up to see Master at another table, standing by two big gray… Things. They were massive, enormous, bigger than anything Duke had seen. Their noses were long and snaky things, and their ears were each as big as the blubber dogs’ entire bodies. It also looked like they were ready to ‘enjoy’ too, as the male circled behind the female while the witch moved onto another table.

Duchess clenched around Duke, and he pumped his hips, returning to his own pleasure. It felt so perfect, so right. Each pump of his hips concussed both of their brains, bludgeoning all remaining thoughts out with pleasure. The two of them let the rest of the world fade away, until all that remained were each other.