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I feel stressed out
I wanna let it go
Let's go way out spaced out
And loosing all control
-Black Eyed Peas' "I Gotta Feelin"

Ranger edged into his kitchen, wondering why he hasn't gotten a bat - or even a gun - for situations like this.

It also occurred to him that he probably should've uncuffed his wife before he came down to check out whatever was making the strange noises. In fact, it seemed to be coming from the back door. Was someone forcing the lock? He stayed low, keeping the kitchen island between him and the intruder, until he could peek -

The thing trying to wiggle it's way through the doggie door, while furred, was certainly not a dog. For one thing, it was larger, about the size of a small adult, or large child. For another, the figure, what he could see of it, was distinctly curvy. In fact, this was what was giving it trouble, as its wide hips couldn't quite make it through, no matter how much its claws scrabbled on the tile.

Its ears perked up as Ranger stood, and it looked up at him, mouth open, tongue lolling, tail presumably wagging. A familiar collar was around its neck, and taking a second look at its face -

"Coco?"

The Pomeranian gave a piteous whine, as if to say hi, boss, a little help?

"Ah - turn a little."

The dog cocked her head.

"Let me just -" The homeowner knelt next to his altered dog, and grasped her firmly around what parts of the hips he could reach, ignoring her nose in his ear with the ease of long practice.

Said hips were really...ergonomic.

With a deft twist, Coco popped out of the doggie door like a furry cork from a bottle, plopping on his chest, tail wagging. She didn't seem inclined to go anywhere, snuggling up to him and looking at him with, well, puppy-dog eyes.

Ranger stared at his transformed pet. Quite shapely, he could tell.

"Ah...hone - mmph!"

Coco had kissed him.

Appropriately, as a cross between a human and a dog, the kiss was a cross between those two species. Ranger would later wonder if she had figured out how to kiss by watching humans, and had just decided to give it a whirl.

It involved an unusual amount of tongue.

"Down, girl," he said, pushing her away from him. She cocked her head, before rolling off him and heading to the cupboard on all fours.

Ranger say up and tried to contemplate the fact that his dog had turned into a dog-woman. Either that, or someone in a remarkably convincing costume, putting on a remarkably convincing performance, with a remarkably long tongue.

He shook his head. Not just at the sheer impossibility of the situation, but at the things he was starting to hear, to smell, kinda like a radio station being tuned in. He could scent his wife in leather, in a way he never had before, and himself, and Coco, and dog food, and latex -

He was distracted by Coco dropping a bag of kibble from her mouth onto his lap. Then she looked pointedly at her bowl.

"I think we're gonna need to get you a bigger bowl."

She nudged the bag with her nose.

"Also, I'm not sure what I tell the local registry."

Another nudge. Ranger sighed.

"You have hands now. Look -"

He took Coco into his lap, wrapped his muscled arms around her soft, fuzzy ones, and showed her how to get the bag open. At which point she dove right in, tail wagging furiously, just like he and Camilla had told her not to do a million times -

She seemed to like sitting in his lap. And his lap seemed to like her right back.

Also, his chest.

Wait a second.

He grasped at his chest. While he prided himself on a well-cut figure, he was developing man-boobs at an alarming rate. The skin below that area was softening as well, though his muscular shoulders and arms were still intact.

His thumb brushed over a nipple, and he gritted his teeth as a warm feeling swept through him. In response, the nipples swelled faster, and he felt a vicelike pressure at his waist as well.

"What did you do to me?" he asked Coco, who only wagged in response.

He had shoved the dog off his lap before, but never when she was so large or...tactile. Still, he forced himself to do it, and pulled himself up on the counter, accidentally knocking over the container where his wife kept the tea in the process, then yanked up his shirt at the sudden itch -

He had started growing hair on his chest.

He normally kept it shaved, but brown fur was doing rapidly across his torso, dozens, hundreds of tiny little prickles. But it seemed limited to his torso; once it reached his sides, it turned black, like his regular hair.

Ranger abruptly stumbled as the changes got goods legs. The feet - paws, now - were most obvious, followed by his calves and thighs thickening with muscle and curves both. Where it met the fur, just above his toned rear, his spine suddenly lengthened into a tail -

He was not best pleased with the situation, especially after a few frantic seconds revealed that it was not only firmly attached, but it wasn't going back in, either.

In those few instants, his...aft deck went from "toned" to "shapely". Which he wasn't exactly averse to, on a woman, but not when it replaced his hard-earned buttocks, the ones Herself liked so much...

He needed to focus. If he couldn't stop the change, he'd just have to ride it out. He pushed himself back up to a standing position. His face, his ears felt wrong, and a long, flexible tongue was lolling out of his mouth, through sharpening teeth -

The better to eat you with, my dear.

Coco took advantage of his musing to jump up and steal another smooch. Their faces were more compatible now, and as he pushed her away, he could feel a low, vibrating energy running through her body.

Maybe she was just wagging that hard.

She jumped up again, and despite his muscles, ended up dragging him to the tile floor again.

Ranger rolled over to free his tail from being squished on the floor, only for Coco to flop herself onto his lap, belly exposed, paws and face beseeching.

And who was he to say no?

Her fur didn't seem to have become tangled when it grew to match her new proportions, and Ranger was not surprised to find soft mounds right where they'd be on a standard human. And two pairs of smaller bee-stings, further down.

The dog's left hind leg thumped, and her eyes rolled back in her head.

He took a look at his almost-finished new body in the mirrored, stainless steel surface of the fridge.

The face that looked at him wasn't human, exactly, but it was still less canine than Coco. His face was all-black, except for his brown muzzle, and the brown markings over his eyes. As for the rest of him -

He shifted so he could see his back. Yep. Definitely quite grabbable. And the most vital portion of his manhood was still intact. No new additions in the neighborhood, thankfully.

Ranger had spent hours poring over guides with his wife before settling on their Pom, and he wasn't turning into anything he recognized. It seemed he was a sort of short-hair mutt, with the approximate coloration of a Pinscher, if not its other physical features. The muzzle was shaped wrong, though his ears were pointy -

Of course, if he was going through an impossible transformation anyway, why would he be a purebred?

He didn't even care, now, as his claws and the last of his fur grew in. He stretched out both legs so that his claws popped out, gave a doggy yawn, and wondered how he was going to explain this to -

Both master and dog pricked up their ears as a scream rang out.

Camilla!

Ranger pushed Coco off, scrambled to his feet, and fell down. With a snarl, he yanked off his tangled sweats. Was the shirt a problem? No, it could stay.

Dog at heel, the master of the house darted up the stairs (certain portions of his anatomy bouncing in a distracting manner), burst into the bedroom, and stopped dead.

His wife was handcuffed to the headboard, just as he had left her, and blindfolded, just as he had left her. He had not, however, left her with a latex cat-thing menacing her.

"Hey," said the cat, awkwardly.

"Hey," said Ranger.

"Mmph," Camilla said, glaring, best as she could, at their uninvited houseguest.

Behind her husband, Coco growled.

The interloper considered its opposition. A tongue nervously darted over its whiskered lips. "I can explain."

TreatHunterz: The D
2014 Eulalie "Nequ" Quentin
Creative Commons By-SA-NC

Description
I feel stressed out
I wanna let it go
Let's go way out spaced out
And loosing all control
-Black Eyed Peas' "I Gotta Feelin"

Ranger edged into his kitchen, wondering why he hasn't gotten a bat - or even a gun - for situations like this.

It also occurred to him that he probably should've uncuffed his wife before he came down to check out whatever was making the strange noises. In fact, it seemed to be coming from the back door. Was someone forcing the lock? He stayed low, keeping the kitchen island between him and the intruder, until he could peek -

The thing trying to wiggle it's way through the doggie door, while furred, was certainly not a dog. For one thing, it was larger, about the size of a small adult, or large child. For another, the figure, what he could see of it, was distinctly curvy. In fact, this was what was giving it trouble, as its wide hips couldn't quite make it through, no matter how much its claws scrabbled on the tile.

Its ears perked up as Ranger stood, and it looked up at him, mouth open, tongue lolling, tail presumably wagging. A familiar collar was around its neck, and taking a second look at its face -

"Coco?"

The Pomeranian gave a piteous whine, as if to say hi, boss, a little help?

"Ah - turn a little."

The dog cocked her head.

"Let me just -" The homeowner knelt next to his altered dog, and grasped her firmly around what parts of the hips he could reach, ignoring her nose in his ear with the ease of long practice.

Said hips were really...ergonomic.

With a deft twist, Coco popped out of the doggie door like a furry cork from a bottle, plopping on his chest, tail wagging. She didn't seem inclined to go anywhere, snuggling up to him and looking at him with, well, puppy-dog eyes.

Ranger stared at his transformed pet. Quite shapely, he could tell.

"Ah...hone - mmph!"

Coco had kissed him.

Appropriately, as a cross between a human and a dog, the kiss was a cross between those two species. Ranger would later wonder if she had figured out how to kiss by watching humans, and had just decided to give it a whirl.

It involved an unusual amount of tongue.

"Down, girl," he said, pushing her away from him. She cocked her head, before rolling off him and heading to the cupboard on all fours.

Ranger say up and tried to contemplate the fact that his dog had turned into a dog-woman. Either that, or someone in a remarkably convincing costume, putting on a remarkably convincing performance, with a remarkably long tongue.

He shook his head. Not just at the sheer impossibility of the situation, but at the things he was starting to hear, to smell, kinda like a radio station being tuned in. He could scent his wife in leather, in a way he never had before, and himself, and Coco, and dog food, and latex -

He was distracted by Coco dropping a bag of kibble from her mouth onto his lap. Then she looked pointedly at her bowl.

"I think we're gonna need to get you a bigger bowl."

She nudged the bag with her nose.

"Also, I'm not sure what I tell the local registry."

Another nudge. Ranger sighed.

"You have hands now. Look -"

He took Coco into his lap, wrapped his muscled arms around her soft, fuzzy ones, and showed her how to get the bag open. At which point she dove right in, tail wagging furiously, just like he and Camilla had told her not to do a million times -

She seemed to like sitting in his lap. And his lap seemed to like her right back.

Also, his chest.

Wait a second.

He grasped at his chest. While he prided himself on a well-cut figure, he was developing man-boobs at an alarming rate. The skin below that area was softening as well, though his muscular shoulders and arms were still intact.

His thumb brushed over a nipple, and he gritted his teeth as a warm feeling swept through him. In response, the nipples swelled faster, and he felt a vicelike pressure at his waist as well.

"What did you do to me?" he asked Coco, who only wagged in response.

He had shoved the dog off his lap before, but never when she was so large or...tactile. Still, he forced himself to do it, and pulled himself up on the counter, accidentally knocking over the container where his wife kept the tea in the process, then yanked up his shirt at the sudden itch -

He had started growing hair on his chest.

He normally kept it shaved, but brown fur was doing rapidly across his torso, dozens, hundreds of tiny little prickles. But it seemed limited to his torso; once it reached his sides, it turned black, like his regular hair.

Ranger abruptly stumbled as the changes got goods legs. The feet - paws, now - were most obvious, followed by his calves and thighs thickening with muscle and curves both. Where it met the fur, just above his toned rear, his spine suddenly lengthened into a tail -

He was not best pleased with the situation, especially after a few frantic seconds revealed that it was not only firmly attached, but it wasn't going back in, either.

In those few instants, his...aft deck went from "toned" to "shapely". Which he wasn't exactly averse to, on a woman, but not when it replaced his hard-earned buttocks, the ones Herself liked so much...

He needed to focus. If he couldn't stop the change, he'd just have to ride it out. He pushed himself back up to a standing position. His face, his ears felt wrong, and a long, flexible tongue was lolling out of his mouth, through sharpening teeth -

The better to eat you with, my dear.

Coco took advantage of his musing to jump up and steal another smooch. Their faces were more compatible now, and as he pushed her away, he could feel a low, vibrating energy running through her body.

Maybe she was just wagging that hard.

She jumped up again, and despite his muscles, ended up dragging him to the tile floor again.

Ranger rolled over to free his tail from being squished on the floor, only for Coco to flop herself onto his lap, belly exposed, paws and face beseeching.

And who was he to say no?

Her fur didn't seem to have become tangled when it grew to match her new proportions, and Ranger was not surprised to find soft mounds right where they'd be on a standard human. And two pairs of smaller bee-stings, further down.

The dog's left hind leg thumped, and her eyes rolled back in her head.

He took a look at his almost-finished new body in the mirrored, stainless steel surface of the fridge.

The face that looked at him wasn't human, exactly, but it was still less canine than Coco. His face was all-black, except for his brown muzzle, and the brown markings over his eyes. As for the rest of him -

He shifted so he could see his back. Yep. Definitely quite grabbable. And the most vital portion of his manhood was still intact. No new additions in the neighborhood, thankfully.

Ranger had spent hours poring over guides with his wife before settling on their Pom, and he wasn't turning into anything he recognized. It seemed he was a sort of short-hair mutt, with the approximate coloration of a Pinscher, if not its other physical features. The muzzle was shaped wrong, though his ears were pointy -

Of course, if he was going through an impossible transformation anyway, why would he be a purebred?

He didn't even care, now, as his claws and the last of his fur grew in. He stretched out both legs so that his claws popped out, gave a doggy yawn, and wondered how he was going to explain this to -

Both master and dog pricked up their ears as a scream rang out.

Camilla!

Ranger pushed Coco off, scrambled to his feet, and fell down. With a snarl, he yanked off his tangled sweats. Was the shirt a problem? No, it could stay.

Dog at heel, the master of the house darted up the stairs (certain portions of his anatomy bouncing in a distracting manner), burst into the bedroom, and stopped dead.

His wife was handcuffed to the headboard, just as he had left her, and blindfolded, just as he had left her. He had not, however, left her with a latex cat-thing menacing her.

"Hey," said the cat, awkwardly.

"Hey," said Ranger.

"Mmph," Camilla said, glaring, best as she could, at their uninvited houseguest.

Behind her husband, Coco growled.

The interloper considered its opposition. A tongue nervously darted over its whiskered lips. "I can explain."

TreatHunterz: The D
2014 Eulalie "Nequ" Quentin
Creative Commons By-SA-NC