markgraham
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A New Leash On Life
🕑 Added 2021-04-16 22:02:48 +0000 UTCOh, a third one!
"Keys, keys, keys, where the hell are my keys?" I ask myself, hunting in all the usual spots where I've accidentally left my keys in the past.
It's a problem I have, mentioned by every boyfriend I've dated over the years. 'Just put it in the same spot every time' they say and I know that, it's just that I'm almost always busy or I have something on my mind and I put them wherever is convenient and tell myself that I'll remember where they were.
They are, of course, in the literal last place I'd look - the little bowl I keep by the front door to put my keys in when I get home.
And so is a... a studded dog collar?
But, no, I blink and it's a choker.
I don't own a choker or a dog or a dog collar. I'd be weirded out except that it's actually nice looking. Pure black leather with a silver ring held together by two ends. I've never worn a choker before but I suddenly feel like it would perfectly match my cream colored blouse and "Midnight Tease" pencil skirt.
Honestly, I know I'm forgetful but where did it come from? Brett, my last boyfriend, didn't buy it. I think. Did he?
I really want to wear it. I can see myself in my mind's eye with my well-coiffed platinum hair and my loose bloose and tight skirt. A little bit of a flirt to go with my professional outlook, perfect when meeting with a client.
My heels click-clack-click-clack on the pavement while walking to the overpriced SUV I wrote off for my real estate business. I mean, I do carry for-sale signs in it. Jokes aside, it's actually really helpful and I do way, way too much work prepping and fixing up houses for sale. It purrs when I hit the ignition button and I give myself a last look in the rearview mirror to-
When- when did I put on the choker? I remember thinking about it but not actually putting it on. I mean, I must've. I'm just in a hurry, that's all. Obviously I put on the choker since nobody else could've done it. And it does actually look nice on me.
I reach up to adjust it and then sit back while scratching around the choker and the fine platinum blonde hairs hidden beneath before shifting into reverse and backing out of my driveway.
Just after I merge onto the freeway, I lower the temperature when I feel sweat racing down my chest. I hate sweating and it's the worst when meeting with a client. Nobody wants to see sweaty armpits or a big old sweat bib.
Flipping my turn blinker, I wait, check over my shoulder and switch lanes, settling into place comfortably before grabbing and fanning the neck of my blouse to stir the air a little more. The motion drags the cold air within the vehicle forcing me to squirm uncomfortably when the icy air coils around my nipples, teasing them until I swear I can feel them rubbing against my bra.
Curly blonde hairs grow between my breasts, slowly unwinding once they emerge. They darken and lay flat when more sweat forms, trapping the hair in place. When more grows, it transitions from hair to fur as the densely packed strands slowly, languidly spread down beneath the cups of my bra and then around, tracing the curves of my tits before faltering, individual hairs continuing on in a scattered, random pattern until they reach my armpits.
Once more I lower the temperature and growl quietly, grinding my teeth when my gums begin to strobe with an annoying soreness that reminds me I need to floss more. Or floss at all.
Silky, shorter hairs grow from the soft skin of my shaved armpits.
Finally, I can't deal with it and I roll down the window. The fresh air feels ah-may-zing! Even better, it smells good out there. The sixty-three mile per hour wind carries an enormous amount of scents directly to the olfactory cortex in my brain while new receptors explode in a frantic rush to accommodate the influx of information. God! Putting the horrible smell of cars aside, there's all kinds of interesting things like old food, old drinks, new food, uneaten food, people everywhere, other dogs, cooked food and strange animals and smoke and-
I can't help but hang my head out of the window. The wind rips one of my chopsticks free and my hair unwinds enough that the other chopstick is pulled away. I swallow and pant and my tongue hang free, the tip touching my tips. I swallow again and it hangs lower. Again and it brushes the bottom of my chin.
The cool air rushes down my blouse to tussle the fur within and more grows, escaping the band of my choker at the center of my throat. They're small, wispy hairs little more than jumped-up peach fuzz but they're thick and curly and they grow up to the base of my jaw and then down, waving as they march forth to meet the longer hairs beneath my blouse. And they elongate to match.
My ears wiggle in the wind. The rigid edges tremble and stretch, sliding out to more pronounced rounded edges that bend ever so slightly. I swallow and sigh and pull my head in and nearly choke to death until my thick tongue settles into a new position in my small mouth. My SUV swerves briefly until I bring it under control and the vehicle's lane assist screams at me to stay within the lines.
I leave the windows open for the smells but watch my GPS when it politely asks me to prepare for my exit.
Sweat tickles my belly. I scratch, moaning softly and happily when my nails dig into my firm belly and the line of fur that's now grown down to my belly button. The skin along my torso feels sore and strange so I idly continue to scratch and explore while signaling for my exit.
My ass is sore.
I wriggle around to try to find just the right position but it doesn't seem to help. The band on my skirt feels like it's rubbing me raw when it grinds back and forth against my flexing tail.
And the heat is killing me! I turn the A/C to full blast while pointing it directly at my face and it helps. Somewhat. But. Um. It's not. It's not, um.
I shiver and look down to see my nipples clearly visible through my bra and blouse. They're throbbing in twin lancing lines down to my pussy while shooting sparks along the way. I whine and paw at my stomach, squeezing and pulling and massaging at the flesh beneath my unformed teats when the pinch of new flesh erupts over my belly.
Fine baby-like vellus hairs grow from my narrow jaw. They start in a single line but widen, almost invisible in direct sunlight.
The GPS directs me and I inhale, sampling the air and all the scents to help guide me. The strange throbbing sensation is fading on my belly, thank god. I'll sometimes get nervous before meeting with clients so I use the restroom but I didn't this time and I really don't want to have to take a dump at a home I'm showing.
Red nail polish tumbles through the air until they hit streams of air conditioning. Streaks of black fill the stress fractures in my nails when they bend and the coloring spreads as they completely fold in half. Keratin fills the gap and my new claws scratch the fake leather on my steering wheel when my hands slip. Smooth calluses grow on my palms, along the bottoms of my fingers and the top of my palm. I growl and grip the wheel tightly when they swell and dusky specks emerge.
Finally, I park at the side of the road, kill the engine and step out of my SUV.
I can't wait to meet the new client! My stubby tail thrashes painfully against my skirt until I unzip myself just a little bit. Just a bit to give myself room. I'm so excited to meet them and say hello! Oh my gosh! I've only talked to them on the phone and over email but now I get to see them and smell them!
The tips of my ears flop a quarter of an inch more. Sunlight glints off of golden hairs.
They're already parked and are waiting and I can smell them.
Him.
Oh gosh.
Oh gosh. I can smell him and, oh gosh.
I whine. And moan. My smile falters but I fix it in place. There's just something- something about his smell that- oh- oh gosh.
"Hi!" he says, stepping out of his Subaru. It's a newer one, a shiny and fancy WRX that I bet can carry a ton. He probably goes hiking. He smells like the outdoors. I'd LOVE to go hiking. Right now even. Except. Except his smell. He's staring strangely at my choker but that's okay. "You must be Sarah?"
"Oh, yes, that's me!" I say.
He reaches out for a handshake but I go in for a hug, wrapping my arms around him and pressing my tits into him and breathing deeply with my nose just beneath the base of his ear. He's not hard but I can feel his cock and, oh gosh, that's what I'm smelling. Drool glistens at the corner of my mouth before I lick it away.
He laughs awkwardly when we separate and I smile wide at him.
"Oh! I'll show you inside," I tell him and now I'm laughing at how forgetful I am.
My blouse is tight against me and it bunches strangely against the curly blonde fur spreading over my back. It feels so good, though. Like someone lightly clawing down my back after sex. Sex. Gosh, yes. SEX.
I stumble in my heels but catch myself before I reach the front door of the house I'm showing. My feet hurt and I whine quietly. My toes stretch the black stockings I'm wearing. The fronts bulge slowly as my nails grow out, pushing and pushing until runs appear and they tear to show claws that definitely need to be trimmed. I unlock the door with the key stored in the container over the doorknob and step inside.
The strap on my right heel snaps and I stumble but Anthony is there to grab me. My tail wags. I close my eyes and sigh but he gently steps away. I kick off my other shoe and my claws sink into the thick carpet.
"Come-" I pant. I'm hot. It's a different kind of hot and I whimper. "Come inside. And. Close the door."
"Hey, I'm sorry to ask but, are you okay?" he asks behind me when I reach out to brace myself against the wall.
Sweat teases my teats. I lean back and four of them show, briefly - little bumps against my blouse. The feel of the satin material draaaaaagging against those tiny nipples makes me shiver.
"Excuse me for a second," I tell him while walking barefoot towards the bathroom.
My tail pushes me forward and I lift up on my forefeet. The carpet shows my footprints, ball and heel, ball and light heel, just the balls of my feet, the balls of my feet with a strange bump, the balls of my feet with a slowly emerging rounded triangular pattern of padding. And with every fading footprint, five tiny holes where my claws dig into the carpet.
I close the bathroom door, lean over the sink and pant. Drool courses down the edge of my broad tongue to the tip before dripping into the sink.
"Fuck!" I scream when I look up and see myself. The tips of my ears flop. The short fur on my jawline is longer now and spreading to my cheeks. I can see visible curly fur on my neck and over my chest.
And it's not a choker. It's the collar with blunted spikes circling it. I whine and pull at it and see my claws and the thick padding.
The doorknob rattles.
"Are you okay?"
"Oh no, no, no," I whine and it's a fucking dog's whine. I can actually see my ears growing, the tips folding and sliding against my head and, when I lean it, I watch tiny holes open to emit new blonde hairs.
I grab at my blouse, accidentally tearing holes with my claws until I toss it aside.
Four little nipples line my chest with a wide, curly tangle of fur separating them. Except I move and feel something else so I push the edge of my skirt down. My pubes are WILD and thick and curly to match the fur on my chest but there, hidden beneath the hairs are two more teats.
"Hey, Sarah? Are you okay? Do you need me to call 9-1-1?" Anthony shouts while rattling the door.
When my dress moves, I scream again because my tail is bushy and it brushes against my ass and thighs. I do a little pirouette while trying to unzip myself and then I bite my lips when I grip my tail. My teeth nearly puncture skin but I put that aside to stare at the struggling appendage.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck.
The door rattles on its frame. And then again. And Anthony bursts through, knocking me into the sink. I rebound and hit him and we both fall back to the carpet.
"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" I ask, terrified that I've hurt him.
I lick his lips and cheeks and mouth and face and eyes and neck and lips and cheeks and I grind against him while whimpering because I'm straddling his leg and it feels so good against my pussy and I'm so hot and he smells SO good and I'm such a bad, bad girl for hurting him and I need to lick him some more and then he opens his mouth so, of course I lick inside his mouth but that feels really really good so I press my lips against him and moan and our tongues writhe and I'm soaking through my panties and his slacks and reaching up to pull my bra down and then pulling back and thrusting my furry tit into his mouth and barking when he accidentally licks my nipple because he's trying to talk and I've pushed my panties down accidentally and now I'm just grinding my bare pussy against him and it's not enough so I lick him again and pull at his pants and stroke him while kissing his entire face and then lifting my hips with my bushy tail waving above me and oh fuck ohhhhh fuck oh fuck oh fuck I'm dripping wet, my cum is coursing down his cock even before I push down onto him.
"Jesus Fuck, what's-" he says but I'm bending down to kiss him once more as I slowly push down and then lift and then flex and push back. His semi-erect cock is hardening inside of me and it feels so fucking good.
"Tell me I'm your good girl," I beg him, needing to hear it. I've hurt him and I'm sorry and I really need to hear that he's forgiven me. I really need to hear it. "Please, please tell me I'm your gooooOHHHHH GOOOD!"
Muscles flex and tighten inside of me, squeezing hard enough that he gasps and jerks and wraps his arms around me. My pussy is shifting, moving, lifting to make me a proper bitch ready to be mounted on all fours. I whine and whimper and lick his face and push down while my labia swells beneath thick fur. I'm cumming and licking his face while shaking above him but then pain explodes in my jaw.
I press my forehead against the carpet to the side of his head to rub back and forth. My cheeks crack and flatten while furred flesh pulls forward into my new muzzle.
Anthony's hands tighten against me when the magic of the collar reaches him, twisting his mind to fix a few of his perceptions and grasp of reality. He thrusts up into me and I bark loudly.
"You are," he rasps, reaching down to grab my tail to hold it in place. It resists but he holds me tight and JESUS CHRIST that's the best thing EVER! "My. Good. GIRL."
He pounds hard with every word and my tits bounce beneath the fur. I can't even think straight but my subconscious hears him and my tail goes wild.
I move, going to my forefeet to squat above him while panting and drooling over my thick, golden, curly coat of fur. I rest one paw on his chest and the other beside him and I whine every time I slam down onto his cock. He buries it inside of me to the point that it almost hurts but I take it and more and I work my furry, good girl ass and smile when I see him straining to hold back.
When he swells within me, I lose it. The double pleasure of making my Master cum while also feeling him cum inside of me does something to me now. I howl and shake and my mind just explodes. I've never felt an orgasm quite like it. My new muscles are pulsing around him hard enough that I push him out and his cum flings over my belly and ass, latching onto my beautiful silky fur until I can't even sit up straight.
I collapse. And then roll, kicking and squirming to rub his scent completely into my fur. Panting with my tongue hanging to the side until I roll over to him once more and lick his entire face.
"More?" I beg. "More, I want your cock more. God, I want it more. I-"
I turn and my tongue wraps around his shaft. The taste of his cum sends shivers down my spine and, soon, I'm bobbing up and down, adjusting constantly to keep my teeth away from his dick.
"Now. I'll have to. Buy the place," he grunts while massaging my ass.
I can still remember how to do that. How to sell the house. It's just that it's really really really really far down the list of my priorities right now. So super far. He grips my tail and I bark, shuddering and laying my head in the gap of his thigh.
"M- Master," I moan and roll my head. "Wh- when you do that, I can't- can't move. It's too much."
"Good," he says, moving under me until he's behind me with his fist still holding me in place. "Now, be a good girl."
I whimper but he continues.
"And stay," he says roughly while thrusting into me.
I howl and tremble and lose count of the orgasms that follow.
