Echo's Story
#3 of Patch's Origins
A flashback extravaganza commissioned by BalloonPup.
Patch and Echo are (c) BalloonPup
This is Adult with Non-Anthro characters.
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Patch trotted along at Echo's side happily. The Dalmatian had slowly calmed down from his high level of the jitters after taking in the ferret as his own. They had been moving for hours, but he didn't feel in the least tired. He looked over at Echo as the shiny greyhound retracted his wings, having had used one to reign in the black and white pup while he was so bouncy.
The latex Dalmatian noticed that Echo had some sort of garment on that had been obscured by his wings. It was just a piece of black material swathed over the silver greyhound's back, with a strap hooking under him to keep it on. Well that would make sense if it didn't look like it was part of Echo's body. It had the number 69 printed on it in yellow, and Patch tilted his head to one side in confusion, "Echo?"
The Greyhound turned his head to look at the smaller dog, "Yeah, Patch?"
"What's that black thing on your back?" The young Dalmatian blurted tactlessly.
Echo chuckled, "It's my Racing Silk."
Patch looked even more confused, "What's a Racing Silk...?"
Echo bent down to nuzzle and lick at the pup's neck, "Let me tell you a story, sweet little Patch."
Patch perked. He loved stories. "Okay!"
The Greyhound smirked. "A long time ago, in a city far away, there was a racetrack."
~*~
A young feral greyhound was curled up in his pen of a large kennel. All around were other dogs. Each dog wore a silk with a number on it. A bulldog stood amongst the cages working on something on a clipboard.
"Hey, that stuff you ordered arrived!" A sleek fox lugged in a big box and set it down one of the tables for the kennel.
The bulldog walked over, "Perfect. This stuff is supposed to make dogs run like the wind, or like quicksilver, or a river. Or something."
The fox smirked. "Is this gonna be like that time you gave all the greyhounds Viagra and sprayed pheromones on the rabbit? They're still trying to fix that one I hear." He handed a crowbar to the bulldog.
The dog seemed to have seniority, since he snatched the Crowbar away, "Well we never got caught, did we?" He shoved the crowbar into the crease between lid and box and started finagling it weakly.
The fox sighed at his boss, who was little use in anything physical, or anything really, except managing dogs and knowing who to bet on, which was why he was the boss. He leaned against one of the pillars in the Kennel with a sigh, watching the overweight canine work and get nowhere. After nearly a minute of this, he padded over, snatched the Crowbar away, and opened the box within a second.
The bulldog rushed forward and dipped his paws into the box, fishing through the packing material until he found the big bottle. He grinned.
The fox raised a brow at his employer. "Well now. That has to be the biggest bottle I've seen with an eyedropper attached to the cap."
"Bah." The superior grunted, spun the cap off, and poured some of the fluid directly into a food bowl. It gave off sweet fumes, and the fox was half tempted to drink from it, were it not for the fact that it looked just like mercury. The bulldog set the bottle down and looked around at all the dogs behind their bars. He set the dish down and pressed it through the slot for feeding in Cage 69. "There, Echo. Drink up like a good doggie."
The curled up Greyhound yawned, sniffed the air, then stood, padding to his bowl and then starting to drink.
"That's a good dog." The keeper grinned and stood up straight.
The fox sighed, "This bottle isn't even labeled. You could have just killed that dog you know."
"Shut up and get to work, we have a race in an hour."
*~*
That night, the greyhound awoke with a powerful hunger. He stretched with a yawn, not noticing his fur had unusual luster now. He poked at his empty bowl irritated, before looking through his bars at the bottle sitting on the table. He felt his belly rumble again, before forcing himself against the bars. He felt something weird, like he was flexing, before with a pop he stepped forward. He perked and looked back, to see the bars were still normal, but he was flexed to allow himself through!
He kept on forward, not really worrying about how this was possible, and he yipped happily when he was clear of his bars. He padded over to the table and leapt up onto it. The Greyhound glared at the cap on the bottle, before biting at the little rubber thing on top of it. His saliva softened it, and soon it bit clean through. He instinctively swallowed the piece of rubber, before wrapping his muzzle around the neck of the bottle.
He bit down on the neck and flicked his neck, sitting on his rump on the table, and raised the bottle over him in the process. He let the silvery fluid flow down his throat, closing his eyes as his stomach was soothed. When he was done with the bottle, his throat flexed, and automatically stretched to swallow the bottle too!
The greyhound didn't seem to notice and padded back to his pen. He crawled through the bars even easier and curled up.
When he awoke, he felt hungry again, but with no stomach growls to accompany it. The greyhound got up and looked at himself. He was as shiny as whatever it was he drank and just as smooth. He looked over his shoulder, and he saw his racing silk was all shiny too. He wagged his tail, thinking this awfully neat, before he remembered he was hungry. He looked around and saw no food. He sniffed the air. The greyhound in the next pen smelled pretty good...
He walked into the next pen, not even realizing he had traveled through wire mesh to get there, and started licking number 70. The normal dog yawned and stretched at the sensation, before his eyes widened at the sight of a shiny dog. The silvery hound got atop his fellow racer, and instinctually mounted him, shoving his hard doggy shaft deep. The other dog yipped in surprise and tried to get away, but he felt the other dog wrap around him. He looked back, and the silver hound was melting, oozing and engulfing him, all while panting happily. A stream of the silver came around to force itself into the dog's muzzle, even while the silver cock poured silver into his rump.
Soon enough there was a formless puddle, the last of the greyhound sinking into it with a whine. The silver reconstituted into a greyhound, who let out a happy belch, but he still felt hungry...
*~*
The fox came down to the kennel for his morning rounds before the day's races and stopped still. He looked around the room. All the Greyhounds were gone, save number 69, which looked like he had been cast and polished in metal. He cursed and strode to the box. He looked confused as the bottle was nowhere to be seen. He turned and saw 69 grinning at him, wagging, and out of his pen.
"Uh... Hi there." The fox said nervously
The silver hound wagged, "Hi!" he barked, in an imitation of the word.
The fox took a step back. In that moment of imbalance, the hound leapt forward and reshaped in midair, having had sixty nine of his fellow dogs to practice this on, wrapping up the vulpine and starting to invade his form.
The fox tried to scream as silver poured into his mouth, and he was mounted from the inside of his pants, a thick dog shaft hilting into him and starting to pump, even as a muzzle delved into his sheath and stuck its long tongue into his soft member. After the initial invasion the silver spread over his body, working to engulf him on the pile on the floor. Before long the fox's world went dark, and he was submerged. He struggled weakly, before he felt himself starting to come slightly undone, then he was diffusing into the silver around him, before he was dissolved painlessly and his mind blacked out.
*~*
The bulldog was working on paperwork when he heard a yip. He looked around and spotted the silver dog. "Echo? Is that you? You'll run like the wind now!" He stood, walking over and kneeling in front of the dog.
Echo grinned wide, and gaped his mouth open. The bulldog blinked, sitting back on his knees, before the silver hound lunged forewords, his maw growing impossibly wide. He got out one shout of terror before he started gurgling. Echo enveloped the bulldog rapidly, before he started filling him up. He reformed his shape and rubbed his gut, enjoying feeling a bulge there, instead of waiting for them to be gone to resume his form like he had before.
When his belly had shrank he hopped up onto the windowsill and saw a stadium full of people.
Echo grinned.
~*~
"Woow..." Patch said wide eyed.
Echo chuckled, "Yup." The pair had been walking for the whole story, Echo gently leading the smaller pup with nudges, before they arrived at an old brownstone in the city. "Here we are, pup."
"Oooh!" Patch started to bounce about happily.
Echo smirked and nosed the door open for Patch, "Welcome home."
Patch bounded in happily, and Echo followed soon after.
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