Subversion - Part 1
In a society dominated by canines, a financially successful doberman is targeted by a scheming, mischievous sphynx cat. What would initially seem like a matter of asserting dominance changes into a life altering scenario for our canine friend. Just how will the tables turn for our two characters, and how will things end for them?
WARNING: Do not read this story if you are sensible to the current themes: transformation, mental adjustment, straight to gay, forced/non compliant, mind breaking and other morally dark ones of the kind. This story starts off slowly but it will certainly pick up in the following parts!
Tyron grabbed his coat from the hanger and quickly wrapped himself in it, looking back a final time to make sure all the lights were off and the office was ready to be closed for the night. The canine was almost always the first in and the last one out, allowing him to put in as much effort as it took to consistently score employee of the month and progression in the company. Most of his coworkers found his seriousness a little off-putting, so he ended up being a solitary man. Not that any of this mattered to him, he was satisfied with his life: high pay and a simple personal life with the odd drinking night and some good sex every now and then.
Tonight was to be more in line with the former. He was heading to the bar in hopes of drinking away some of his stress, it was Friday after all! The rain put most people off the idea of coming out of their homes, so the streets were silent for the most part. All the better for Tyron, who kept up a steady rhythm underneath the umbrella's protection. As he approached the Garden, a bar hidden amidst the labyrinth of backstreets, the looks of the few who passed by him grew more judgemental. It wasn't common for someone who appeared to be of such social status to hang around this part of the city, and those who did were usually looking for some cheap company in the form of feline prostitutes.
Dismissing the nonsense speculation was already automatic for the canine, and he was much happier to think about the booze he would be guzzling down in a moment. He stopped for a second as he glanced at the familiar neon sign which read "The Garden Bar", smirking as if overrun by nostalgia. He closed his umbrella and entered the degraded looking place, feeling an immediate change in atmosphere. The warm, dark blue lights which alternated with some smaller golden and multicoloured ones gave the place a feeling of sophistication, like a casino without any of the gambling but all the cute waitresses and alcohol.
"Evening, I'll be having a round of the usual" the buff dog says, finally getting comfortable on his chair.
"Ah! Haven't seen this old mutt around for a while! Right on it." he gets his reply from a beautiful wolven bartender, dressed in an impressively skimpy outfit which probably got her nice tips. Soon enough she returns with a cup of scotch, the doberman's favourite.
"How're things for ya? Found a mate yet?" she probes, kneeling on the counter in the perfect angle to emphasise her cleavage. If this was intentional or not, we couldn't know, but she surely got his attention. "I take it that you haven't? Or if you have, you probably need to take your mind off of it, huh?" she smirks, making the male feel a little awkward with the whole situation.
"Well, you know... Just haven't found the right person. There are so many women who act all mature and seductive but are mainly in it for the wallet..." Tyron sighs, placing both elbows on the counter. "It gets tiring when no one is upfront about their intentions, it would be easier if they were all like you Reya." he chuckles, slipping her some paper, definitely more than what he would need to pay.
Smiling, the well endowed wolf tucks it away in her pocket, pretty much expecting the tip from one of her favourite customers. "To be fair, I wish there were more gentlemen like you around here~!"
He takes a sip of his drink and watches her from behind as he walks away, refilling someone else's empty glass. The doberman felt drowsy and was already foreseeing the satisfying and pointlessly flirty night ahead of him, as another figure takes the seat beside him. This caused his ears to perk, coupled with a raised eyebrow. It was common knowledge around the place that only girls offering their services would take seats next to male customers that they were interested in, so he didn't really know how to react to the sleekly dressed sphynx cat who sat next to him. Maybe he took a wrong turn on his way to the gay bar side of town.
Reya moved towards him, awkwardly looking at Tyron before taking a better look at the cat. He had a very good appearance to him, and managed to give off a fancy aura despite sporting a clearly prominent tattoo on his neck. From what could be seen, it was some sort of elaborated serpent done in with strong black ink.
"Good evening to you sweetie, always a pleasure to see such a beauty serving gentlemen like us around here. Get me what he's having, and get him some more, he definitely looks like he needs it!" the cat says with a mischievous grin, sliding over what looked like an overly exaggerated amount of money for a couple of drinks and a glance at lupine features at their best.
A very faint growling could be heard from the canine, and the man beside him quickly turned to him with a smug expression on his face. "Calm down puppy, I'm not here to bite. Or to take away your little prize there, for that matter." he chuckles, gesturing to the curvaceous bartender.
"What is a filthy thing like you doing talking to me?" he snarked, clenching one of his fists while looking at the feline in a very menacing way. "Shouldn't your kind be dwelling in the sewers, looking for some scraps to eat?" the dog looked rather angry, and got himself up from his chair, taking a look at Reya before picking up his coat. "I have no business with someone like you, I'm probably infected with something nasty already!"
The irritated doberman gathered his belongings and walked outside the place, wanting only some peace in his life. He'd be better off heading home, lest people would see him sharing the same space as a feline. It was still raining, and this made the dog groan as he splattered his shoes into some rather murky puddles. Suddenly, he felt something clammy grab his arm, and turned around to find himself being followed by the sinister cat.
"Just what do you want from me? I'm not interested in anything involving faggots like you, go find another dick to suck!" he barked out, hoping to get rid of his unwanted company.
"Oh my, oh my... so that's the type of person you are? This will be so much fun!" the sphinx grins, the ferocious expression complemented by the strength of all of his features, such as the sharp pointy left fang which was more prominent than his right one. "You know, I was hoping to interest you with some of my elite escorts, but now I think we're way past that offer." he says, quickly tucking a catalog into his long coat.
"Aren't there enough places for rats like you to spread? I'm sure that you'll find plenty of desperate clients at the Yarn Thread... Now let go of me!" the doberman growls, trying to set himself free from the other man's grip.
"Now that you talk about it, I'm sure we will find plenty of them!" a devilish giggle comes from the cat, and he pulls out a strange looking syringe, quickly piercing Tyron's pelt with it. "Just rest now, we'll talk about the details later~!"
The muscular canine felt himself getting dizzier and dizzier, the gray images around him multiplying rapidly. First he saw double, then triple, then quadruple... His head hurt so much, he couldn't think about anything but simply giving in to his weakening body. Crouching while mumbling, he turned his gaze to the scheming feline and tried to reach out his paw, as if asking for help. The last image he saw before completing passing out were the cat's ice blue eyes.
As the rain continued to pour, little life was seen in the streets surrounding them. A couple of teenagers took a quick look at the scene before picking up their pace and trying to walk away unnoticed. Not many people were willing to mess with the Headmaster.
"Hnn... grnn... agh..." a gentle mumbling was heard within the dark room, a failing, flickering light being the only other notable presence. Cold metal and stone coated the four walls of the place, and a small cage with a sickly looking canine took the center. He was lying naked on the floor, chains resting down beside him, with the purpose of keeping him restrained in case he woke up earlier than predicted.
A heavy metal door creaked and a dark figure made his way inside, setting down a case before tapping the flickering light with it's elongated wooden cane. "Darn it, can't ever get these things to work for long..." he rolled his eyes and continued to the cage, taking a look at the restless dog. He barely resembled a dog, and if he did, it was a street dog which was close to passing away from malnutrition. Whatever body mass he sported previously was drastically reduced, and it gave him a rather comical form.
"I should think about waking you up now, shouldn't I? You're definitely small enough to ensure a safe procedure..." the sphinx hummed as he opened the black case, preparing some white gloves and a dose of an extremely fluid, bright blue liquid. "Hope this doesn't kill the poor thing..." he continued, chuckling while he talked to himself. Approaching the cage, he took out a set of tarnished keys, sifting through them with one paw until he found the right one, the other hand holding up a pointy syringe.
"Alright! Now now, let's get you up~" the cat smiled, plopping the keys into his pocket and bringing the needle close to the disfigured dog's neck. With a gentle push, he ensured the neon liquid fully penetrated into his bloodstream. Backing off a little, he sat down with a patient expression, waiting for his prisoner to wake up.
Tossing and turning, the slim doberman kept groaning, the rattling of chains against the hard floor becoming equally as audible. "Nnng.... hnnng.... huff...huff" the breathing started getting heavier and heavier, almost like someone catching their breath after a marathon. Startled, the dog opened his eyes and started looking at his surroundings, with a surge of energy akin to an electrocution which contrasted with the droopy animal that had spent the last couple days spread across the floor.
"What... where...?" Where am I??" he looked panicked, noticing the serene feline in front of him. Suddenly, a recollection of the events that had happened on that Friday night came to him, and he recognized the gloomy figure which quietly observed him. "You! What did you... Why are you doing this??" he squirmed and tried to to budge the chains, only to notice how much they weighed and restrained him. He turned his head and an expression of dreadfulness flushed his face as he looked as his skinny, bony arm. Looking down and inspecting the rest of his body, he saw that he was heavily underweight, and barely had any strength left inside of him.
"Well, those are many questions to which you may or may not end up getting an answer... It's not really suitable for you to be asking those types of things anymore, but you'll learn, eventually." the cat got up and headed over to Tyron, stroking his head while taking a good look at his face. He frowns and turns around, placing his paw on his own face before taking a couple steps left, looking pensive. "You're probably wondering why you look so awful, aren't you? Well, it was a necessary step to ensure maximum safety for what's coming next! Don't keep your little mind worried with this, however. We'll make you beautiful, okay?" he says with an ear to ear grin.
Tyron didn't know what to make of it, and kept tugging at his chains, helplessly. "Please let me go... I won't tell anyone, I won't..." all the effort has him panting heavily, there didn't seem to be any way out for him. At the realization of this, his eyes started welling up.
"Owh, don't you cry... You're going to be treated so well over here! Or are you simply ashamed of the way you look? Hmm... that would make sense..." the feline hastily rushes to his case, and sets it on the floor before rummaging through various medical instruments. None of them really looked safe, however. A pair of giant scissors, a knife set, various boxes and some tubes with multicoloured fluids in them... whatever he was going to do, he certainly came prepared for the job. Opening up a box, he took out what seemed to be a claw with a needle on one of the extremities. Pulling out a couple of tubes from the case, he poured their content into different compartments of the machine. "This won't hurt. It's just a necessary procedure to ensure you aren't stuck with that hideous form..." chuckling, he came over and attached the claw to his left ankle, pressing a button which made it buzz and clasp around him with a certain strength.
"Get this thing off me! Please stop this madness... I just want to get out of here!! Stop this!" Tyron started screaming, attempting to shake the machine off but to no avail. It silently pierced him, and while he felt a little sting, it stopped hurting right after. The situation was still extremely scary for the dog, and he kept struggling against his restraints.
"Now now, lets keep you quiet for a while, alright?" he grabbed a rug from the case and stuffed it into his maw, tying it around his face. "There... shush now, let my friend do his job down there."
The sphinx cat knelt down and saw the claw working correctly, and took the chance to caress the thin doberman's junk. "Quite a hefty pair you're carrying here, huh? You'll be able to keep your heftiness, don't worry! We'll just make sure it's more suitable..." with a giggle, he got back and looked down at his most recent test subject.
"Since you're still capable of listening, let me give you some insight on what this is all about!" smiling, he started to talk as if he were giving a lecture. "The genetic modification claw you're getting the privilege to use started out with a very different purpose." Stab, the needle pierced his ankle, getting a whimper out of the dog.
"You see, in our society, there are many felines like me who aren't happy with the way things work. You can't get a proper job if you're a cat, you can't get a proper job, and you can't even get proper respect from others. Time after time, we have manifested discontent and there has never been a change. As soon as your kind got their high position, every attempt to repress us was made. Because of people like you, who don't even realize how lucky they are to be born in their stupid fur."
The Headmaster looked annoyed, but continued on explaining, tapping his cane on the floor every now and then.
"So I pursued the idea of being able to genetically modify felines into becoming canines, like you. After years and years of experimenting, there was nothing (stab!) that would work. Most cats I tested this on ended up dying, as their lithe bodies couldn't take the transformation. Some managed to get past the first stage, but ended up manifesting (stab!) life impairing conditions. None of them i[/i] could survive the transformation for more than a couple of days..."
Continuous buzzing and stabbing had the dog trembling in fear, he had no idea about what to do or how to do it, and he couldn't even say anything without it being muffled into the rag which filled his muzzle. He was starting to sweat, twitching while the cat continued his speech.
"And finally, I scrapped the project. There just wasn't any way to change our natural condition. Do you follow?" the feline asks without waiting for an answer, "But after a while, the opposite idea came to me. Could canines survive the transition? To my surprise, the answer to that was positive. It took way too much work and preparation to actually work, but I had been able to fully modify the few test subjects I had. It was a rigorous process of reducing their body mass until it was suitable for the feline dna to overwrite theirs, but it worked! And you, my friend, are going to be able to experience the same thing. We just need to set the stage, and your body will take care of the rest..."
Shaking, Tyron shut his eyes and motioned his head back and forth, not wanting to accept that this was real. He felt drowsy once more, and let himself flop onto the stone floor. Looking down, the cat's words stopped being comprehensible.
"It will only be a while, your body isn't used to any of the stuff that's getting put into it. You'll probably be up in an hour, don't you worry! Get some rest now, you deserve it, my kitten~"
The doberman felt the last of his consciousness slipping away, and shut down. Some patches of his dark fur started turning white, and he was getting considerably smaller. These small changes slowed down for a while, but the buzzing kept on. "Bzzzt!" And a vicious stab on his thigh. The claw moved itself up. "Bzzzzzzt!" And the needle pierced his buttcheek. Twisting around, the claw located his genitalia and a smaller needle made its way into his heavy ball sack. "Bzzzzzzztt... bzzzt... bzzzzzzt..." in a couple of minutes it had pierced most of his body. The Headmaster watched all of this attentively, and smiled as his creation was coming to life. Making its way to Tyron's head, the claw made one final incision before shutting down. The doberman was sleeping, victim to a powerful anesthesia. While he was knocked out, the feline dna struggled to take its place inside the dog's body.