FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chipo had drunk the rest of the water in the bowl. Catherine whined. There was no way she'd last three days without food and water, but she thought she'd at least make it two hours.

She'd been transformed into an exact copy of her Thai Ridgeback kennel mate, Chipo less than an hour before, thanks to a potion that was still sitting on the floor of the kitchen. She would have been fine if it were just Chipo and her - she could open the gate to get to the bags of dog food (as gross as that thought was), and the bathroom door was open, leading to the toilet (even worse), but at least she could survive until the witch who'd unwittingly done this to her returned from vacation.

But Catherine was panting, desperate for water, and she could hardly just walk to the gate or the bathroom. Both facts were due to the _other_two dogs in the house, Rufaro the malamute, and Tendai the Ridgeback. If Catherine took one step out of the kennel, one or both of them would be on her in a flash, sniffing after her aching vulva. But Tendai was also the cause of her desperate need for water - she'd gotten stuck on the door to the kennel thanks to her skirt (which now lay in tatters on the floor of the cage), and he'd taken full advantage of her.

Full advantage. Catherine was still panting and out of breath from the way he'd used her.

Now, Tendai lay half-asleep at the foot of the steps up to the dog food, and Rufaro paced the kennel, wanting to get in at either of the bitches. Catherine needed a drink, bad, but could she make it to the bathroom before either male caught up to her? Tendai at least was probably still in a post-coital stupor, so this was probably her best chance, but she could hardly pretend not to notice the bright, red cock sticking out beneath the malamute's legs.

She could let Chipo out. Catherine would have no trouble, then, as the bitch distracted Rufaro. But ZeZe, the witch whose house she was dog-sitting, explicitly didn't want Chipo to breed at all, but especially not with Rufaro. Catherine knew that her best chance of turning back to a human was to keep ZeZe happy.

No, she'd have to run for it, and just hope she was faster than the malamute. Once she was in the bathroom, she could close the door behind her, drink as much as she could stomach, and race back to the kennel before Chipo and Rufaro realized it was still open.

It wasn't a great plan, but it was her best plan.

She plotted it deliberately in her head, making contingencies for any miscalculation until the middle-aged woman was convinced her plan would work and then she stood up on four, shaky legs. I can do this!

Only, she couldn't (40% chance she is caught - rolled 39).

Catherine pushed the kennel gate open, taking great care to close it as tightly as she could behind her, or Chipo would most certainly get a pussy-full of malamute cock. Hopefully the Ridgeback would assume the door was still locked, and Rufaro wasn't smart enough to pull the gate open.

But that small delay gave the large, black malamute a head-start on Catherine. Dashing forward, the middle-aged woman headed straight for the open bathroom, sensing the hundred-and-fifty pound sled dog just behind her tail. She might have still made it, if not for Tendai, who'd been sleeping on the bottom step before the commotion. Now, he was racing to intercept, blocking her angle into the bathroom.

Gritting her teeth, Catherine diverted to plan B, the kitchen. She'd seen just how badly the huge malamute could turn on the tile floor, and she figured she could circle around him and get another lead on the bathroom. She didn't account for the fact that _she_wasn't particularly used to the tile floor either. As soon as her claws hit the linoleum, she lost her footing, sliding sideways into the cabinets beneath the sink.

_Oof!_she thought, the air knocked out of her.

Then Rufaro slid head first into her as well. The canine was twice her size and moving slightly faster, accidentally stepping heavily on her ribs as he scrambled to get up. Catherine gasped and wheezed for breath, squirming as she tried to stand, but the malamute was still sitting on her chest, and he didn't seem particularly interested in letting her up.

At least, not once his eye caught her spread hind legs. She was half on her back, giving the malamute a perfect, unimpeded view of her heat-swollen spade, which was exactly what Rufaro was looking for. Catherine had an eyeful of fluffy malamute butt, so she wasn't ready when the big, black dog leaned downward and licked her quivering vulva.

Yip!

He ignored her pleas, lapping again and again like an eager puppy (which he was). Catherine groaned, immediately reminded of the tender licks that Chipo had given her in the kennel to clean her up after what Tendai had done to her, only with a hundred times the enthusiasm.

_This is bad!_she knew, wondering how she would ever make it to the water, the food, or even the kennel without the eager malamute mounting her. Maybe she could squirm belly-first along the ground? But first, he'd have to get off of her!

His tongue was merciless, devotedly slurping up every musky liquid he could find as he probed Catherine deeper and deeper, until the transformed Thai Ridgeback was whining and rocking her hips. Suddenly, getting away from Rufaro seemed like a much weaker priority, just like when she'd given in to Tendai. By the time the male Ridgeback had driven her to orgasm and filled her womb with his seed, Catherine had been begging for more, on the verge of swearing off men forever. The sheer joy of mating had overwhelmed her conscious decisions to the point where she'd been convinced she wanted it.

But afterward, when her mind had returned, she'd never felt more used by the one-track male, fucked and abandoned like she was nothing more than an oven for his pups.

This was the feeling Catherine clung onto as she tried once more to resist the growing pleasure in her loins. One small complication - Rufaro was all but sitting on her head, his rich, male scent filling her nostrils. She could see and smell his anus, his thick, fertile balls, and even, when he stood slightly, his throbbing, red cock. Each smelled glorious in its own right to her powerful canine nose, and despite herself, she was gasping large nosefuls of odor, pushing her nostrils right up against his swollen balls.

Rufaro was huge, and she didn't mean his bulky body. Just below his swinging sack, Catherine got a glimpse of his fat erection, almost twice as wide as Tendai's. Another reason to resist him - he would split her apart! So when Rufaro finally stepped off of her, Catherine, shivering, spun onto her belly and started to crawl toward the door.

This wasn't part of Rufaro's plan, naturally. The two-year-old malamute followed along, sniffing and nudging and shoving Catherine this way and that. But nothing would make her stand up. She knew the consequences of_that_ action. She crawled slowly and deliberately toward the door, inching past the fallen doggy gate that had started this whole catastrophe.

Until Rufaro decided to take matters into his own paws. He straddled Catherine from behind, grabbing the scruff of her neck in his teeth. She whined, but he wasn't letting go, and with a hundred-and-fifty pounds on her back, she wasn't about to make much progress toward the door.

Growling, the malamute began to hump and thrust into the air, his thick cock brushing through the fur on her rump.

_Stop that!_she growled, but his response was to growl back. Catherine shut up.

At least this was just humiliating. But she had to wonder just how long the big dog would continue to dry hump her. She felt Rufaro's white balls swinging back and forth and _thwapping_her on the tail. While his grip on her scruff sent needles of pain through her body, she knew that would be nothing compared to what she would go through if she gave in to the huge animal's whims.

Catherine took this time to take stock of her situation. Glancing into the living room, she saw that Tendai, of course, had taken up position lying right in front of the bathroom. That left only the kitchen sink, or if she could somehow vault the doggy gate and get upstairs. A glance over her shoulder proved that she'd never reach the height of the sink, but...

That's when she saw the potion, corked and lying neatly on the ground. She'd only taken a small sip before, and it was still mostly full. Though it had tasted awful, surely it was comprised of water. It might quench her thirst - or better, change her back. Maybe if she drank it and looked at another animal, she could get out of this vulnerable bitch's body. She'd rather be a copy of Rufaro.

Just as she was starting to reenvision her plans, Rufaro changed them. Catherine had been taught that no plan survives contact with the enemy, and never was that more true. The malamute soon became frustrated with his uncooperative bitch, and reached beneath her curved belly with his right paw. Before she even knew what was happening, he was tugging upward on her rump - hard.

_Hey!_she managed to bark, squirming and pushing down, but Rufaro was twice her size and three times as strong as she was. With a forceful thrust, he pulled her up so violently that her brown hindquarters were lifted entirely into the air. Out of control, Catherine's legs fell down beneath her, paws striking the linoleum. Now, with her belly pressed up against the floor, but her ass in the air, she was well and truly fucked.

_Wait!_she whined, but he ignored her high-pitched squeal.

Satisfied that his bitch was finally ready, he launched himself forward. Her thin tail was no protection as Rufaro's huge, tapered cock _slammed_into her soft, trembling spade. She spread easily for him as he sank down all the way to his knot, amazed that she could take the width of his shaft at all. Her pussy stretched out around him, tugging and warping around the obscene girth until it collided wetly with his swollen base.

Catherine dropped her jaw and yipped, violated by a dog for the second time in less than two hours. While Tendai had fit her perfectly, Rufaro plugged her almost to the point of tearing, his sharp claws digging into her soft, brown belly fur. She could barely hold his weight on her shaky knees. Oh fuck! was all she had time to think.

And that's just what he did, probably for the first time in his life. The eager, young buck hammered Catherine's quivering pussy, _pounding_his half-swollen knot against her distended vulva as if he thought he could sink it inside. Catherine thought she knew better, until her pointed ears picked up a loud _creak_that coincided with a sharp pain in her cunt. Rufaro didn't halt his momentum, jabbing forward again and again, as his knot grinded up against her slowly stretching mound.

Catherine's keening cries echoed throughout the small kitchen and into the living room.This is bad - if I wasn't pregnant before, this could be it! She clenched her eyes shut and whimpered through her teeth, the pleasure that Tendai had given her replaced by sharp, repetitive pain.

But that pain was nothing compared to the next second, when Rufaro bit down hard on her nape and tugged backward, _humping_forward as hard as he could. He'd already managed to wedge half his knot into his whimpering bitch, but this pushed him past the edge of no return. His bulbus glandis _popped_through her, pulled deeper by sheer physics until her already tearing spade bulged out like one of the softballs she'd used to hit in her college days.

Only then did Rufaro let go of her scruff and howl, knotting his first bitch. His pointed tip dug painfully into her cervix, literally millimeters away from Catherine's vulnerable womb. She felt like she was bearing torn apart, his heavy balls now pressed up and quivering against her lightly-furred rump.

And yet, suddenly, interweaving with the pain, a weave of pleasure knitted through her body. Either her cunt had stretched to accommodate the huge dog, or she was just barely able to contain his fat cock, but now she felt the familiar sensation of his unbelievable knot grinded up against the source of her pleasure. She felt like a condom for the big brute, she was so tightly wrapped around him, but that just made his internal rubbing and thrusting even more intense.

Every sharp, vicious thrust started with a jolt of agony as his bony tip attempted to pry her cervix apart, followed by the burning ache of her pussy, bulging inside of her and pressing on her other internal organs. But each push ended with his throbbing knot, rubbing and tweaking her clit, the dual shocks to her system combining to leave her drooling. As much as she hated it, she started to buck her hips and _moan_right as the inexperience male howled and came.

Hot, bubbling cum shot into her in heavy strings, since the young male was as pent up as he had ever been. Lying on her belly, her raised rump helped the sticky seed drain into her waiting womb to pool up against Tendai's earlier contributions. That would have been bad enough if she weren't humping and _whining_for it. She howled and clenched around the oversized sled dog, pulling every drop deeper. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head, and she was lost to the grunting, straining _joy_of rutting.

Not a drop escaped her bulging spade, filling Catherine's womb until she felt bloated. This time, she was all but certain she would be carrying his litter, if that were at all possible. (50% chance to get knocked up, 77 - still not a dam). She could only hope that she wasn't currently ovulating, or that she would change back to a human soon. Maybe drinking the potion again would save her?

Like Tendai, when Rufaro was done with her, he simply climbed off and turned away from her, tugging gently on his knot. He wagged eagerly over her rump, still_splurting_ inside of her. Catherine panted and quivered behind him, her body still bouncing in the residual climax. She never would have believed it until it happened, but she _really could_fit the huge malamute!

But just barely. It took a full thirty minutes before he managed to shrink down enough to grunt and pull out of her, a fresh stream of white cum splattering the kitchen floor.

As if with a shrug, the young male just walked away, his tip still drooling. He padded out of the kitchen, leaving Catherine quivering on the floor.

She lay there panting for several minutes, the pleasure of orgasm fading faster than the residual aches and burns that made up her abused rump. At least the warm semen soothed the rips and tears inside her, leaving her wincing instead of whimpering.

I have to get out of here.

Catherine glanced at the door to the outside, but there was nothing for her there. Either she'd change back soon enough, or she needed ZeZe's help, and she couldn't turn the knob if she _wanted_to. She set her eyes on the potion again.

She was so thirsty. This whole nightmare had started because of the hot, San Francisco walk she'd taken with Chipo, and before she could quench her thirst, she'd turned into a fucking_dog_. Since then, she'd been fucked twice, left panting and drooling without any water. She needed to drink the potion to live, but if it improved her situation as well, so be it!

Whining as she tried to ignore the pain in her rump, she crawled over to the little glass bottle. She'd have to be careful not to spill it all. With one paw, she pushed the potion upright and slid it up against the kitchen cabinets. Biting down, she managed to remove the cork without breaking it. Now, she paused, contemplating her next move.

_I think I can get my tongue in the bottle, at least a little ways._She could gulp up enough for now, anyway. But if the potion didn't change her back immediately (as she prayed it would), she would need to look at (or think about?) one of the other dogs. She could hear Rufaro circling the kennel again, his first bitch already out of his mind as he chased after Chipo. Catherine would be _much_happier if she were a male, at least for now.

Steeling herself, Catherine pushed her pink tongue into the bottle, _slurping_up at least a gulp of the bitter tincture. She closed her eyes and pictured herself, a frumpy, forty-year-old with a career to think about! When she opened her eyes, she still had a muzzle jutting out from her face.

Too much to hope for. Catherine left the bottle carefully on the floor and crept toward the kitchen door, making sure not to see Chipo. She spied Tendai first, lying by the bathroom door. Desperately, she _stared_at him, her mind trying to bore through his head in her effort to change forms.

Silence, except for the metallic jingle of Rufaro clawing at the kennel.

Maybe I waited too long. Returning to the potion, she took another gulp. It didn't taste so bad when you were dying of thirst! This time, she hurried to get a glimpse of Tendai, but _still_nothing happened.

God fucking damn it!

It took Catherine almost five minutes to get the cork back in the bottle, picking it up gently in her teeth. She could hear Chipo whining in the next room, probably just as thirsty, but she couldn't risk the Ridgeback drinking the magic potion. Still, Catherine would need the potion as a reliable source of water for the next two days. Gingerly, she winced her way into the living room.

Only, Rufaro wasn't clawing at the cage. Chipo wasn't whining out of thirst.

Catherine walked in to see the kennel door wide open, in lewd mimicry of Chipo's bulging pussy. Rufaro was on her, bagging his second bitch of the afternoon. The little Ridgeback whimpered and shuddered beneath him, bucking her hips up and down around his engorged knot. No, no, no, no! Catherine whined, realizing it was far too late to stop them. ZeZe had wanted _Tendai_to mate Chipo! When the witch found out that Catherine had failed her job as dogsitter, she'd _never_want to help.

(Catherine's plan had a 30% chance of letting Chipo do what comes naturally - rolled 3, the dog opens the door, and a 70% chance of offering herself to Tendai - rolled 96, chooses Rufaro).

Catherine whined as she witnessed the exact moment her plans shattered around her. Rufaro_slammed_ into his whimpering bitch, who even now must be feeling the same pleasure and pain that had brought Catherine to her knees forty-five minutes earlier. She swore she could _see_the malamute's heavy balls pulsing as he spent himself in another fertile bitch. Another roll of the dice, and Catherine wasn't liking her odds.

(Chipo had a 50% chance of pregnancy - rolled a 22, she's got mutts).

Choices:

A) Do her best to get Chipo and herself back into the safety of the kennel.

B) Give up on trying to keep Chipo out of trouble.

C) Give up on trying to keep Chipo or herself out of trouble.

* * * * *

Antonio paused, glancing at the fence to his neighbor's yard. Then he glanced back at the tree-line, trying to glimpse the buck he'd seen earlier. Sure, it might be cathartic to spy on Angela, but there wouldn't always be a deer so prominently available. If being that little dog had been mesmerizing, how much greater a stag? When he was younger, he'd really liked the books about mythology, hoping for a magic spell that might cure his ataxia. He devoured any tale that involved transformation, so he knew the story of Actaeon by heart.

Not that it had ended well for the hunter. In the middle of his hunt, he came upon the Goddess Artemis bathing nude, and spied on her. When she found out, she turned him into a stag to be hunted and killed by his own hounds. But Antonio was specifically _not_spying on the goddess next door, and there weren't really any threats in the middle of Brighton, NY.

Squinting into the darkness, the eighteen-year-old could swear he was standing there, staring straight at him like it was fate. The deer's eyes were reflective in the porchlight, and just above his head a tangle of antlers. Reaching for the bottle, Antonio ignored the phone. This was his special secret, and no one, not even his parents, needed to know.

Eyes fixed on the buck, Antonio popped off the cork of his "vitamin water" and took a stiff gulp, about the same size as last time. How gross! But it was worth it. He barely managed to cap the bottle before he started to change. That's when he realized that he was going to tear his clothes apart growing into a hundred-and-fifty pound buck. Though, this one seemed a bit smaller. Still, the awkward shape and size would rip his clothes and how would he explain _that_to his parents?

Too late to worry about that now.

Like before, his body began to warp and tingle, stretching and shrinking in various ways before the itchy, brown fur began to sprout from his arms. He was doing it! He was turning into a deer! He could hardly believe his luck that his mother got him this random health tonic. He scrambled as best he could with his morphing hands to pull his shirt over his head, but there was nothing he could do about his pants. As his hips changed shape, he could feel the pressure on the fabric, stretching them apart and apart until they _riiiipped_open.

Which was as good a time as any to spill out of his electric wheelchair. He fell onto all fours, kicking off the ruined jeans, glancing back to see his now long, slender legs pull easily free. I guess I won't get as big as I thought I would. His underwear was destroyed, however. Even in the process of changing forms, Antonio was more mobile than with his disability. He crawled along the ground, kicking off his shoes and growing rapidly taller, every limb responding precisely to his whims. Now, he was completely nude, his clothes either tattered or intact in a pile behind him.

The weirdest thing about the transformation was his nose stretching out, followed by his eyes seeming to bulge out of his head. Suddenly, he could hear, smell, and see everything so clearly. Literally see everything, his field of view warping incoherently to cover both sides of his head. At first everything was blurry and hopeless, until, he figured, his brain changed enough to interpret the 310 degree angle of his eyes. Even with his head directed straight forward, he could see along his flanks at the brown and white fur that now covered his barrel-like body, and his huge, white fluffy tail.

But he couldn't see straight in front of him, where the buck had most likely skittered off. To look ahead, he had to turn his head, his neck muscles so powerful, it felt like he didn't even have a rack of antlers on his head. Or do I?_Antonio tossed his head back and forth, but only his long ears flapped in the wind. _Maybe the buck was too young to have antlers? But he'd _seen_the antlers. Glancing over where the deer had been standing, Antonio, his eyes now expert at seeing in the dark, noticed a tree branch covered in branches just above.

But if the deer didn't have antlers, that could mean...

Standing otherwise still, Antonio arched his neck downward, tilting his head so that his right eye peeked between his front legs, along his light-brown belly, to between his hind legs. There was definitely something between them!

But it wasn't a cock, or even a sheath. He - no, she- had a pink-skinned udder. Four pointy nubs stuck out from the semi spherical mound of flesh.

Well, Goddamnit.(Antonio had a 20% chance of something going wrong: rolled 6).

Antonio wasn't going to let her new predicament get in the way. It's not like she had anywhere to be for a couple hours. She didn't have an antidote, and uncorking the bottle for another drink would be difficult. Besides, it was just a cosmetic change. She'd already changed from a crippled boy into a deer.

Testing her legs, Antonio found the doe body every bit as functional as she'd predicted, her leg muscles so strong compared to her weight that she felt like she was flying as she bounded through the backyard. But why stay in the backyard? She focused on the mesh of trees and took off, dashing through the forest at a dangerous pace, passing one tree only to narrowly avoid an unexpected follow up. Her hooves were split down the middle, easily conforming to uncertain ground.

Bouncing about five minutes from her house, Antonio stopped suddenly, face to face with a doe. Judging by its height, it was most likely the deer that the former boy had seen. Antonio realized that the potion must operate on sight, not thought, or she'd have become a buck, and it didn't require a particularly good glimpse, because the doe was identical to the last whisker.

Antonio walked up to it, who didn't seem afraid. Probably because they matched each other's scent. She sniffed the true deer, walking around it. Antonio suddenly felt like he should glance around to see if anyone was watching, when she realized no one would care if she took a peek at the doe's rump. Turning her head, Antonio got a perfect glimpse of what she herself must look like - a big, fluffy white tail, which also covered its butt, but there were two major exceptions. Right at the base of its tail was a mostly-hidden dark spot, then beneath that just a few inches, a pink ring.

The eighteen-year-old wasn't sure what to think. Honestly, the doe's vulva seemed way too small for its size. She'd never been up close to a deer before, but she had_seen a stallion, and if bucks were hung anything like that, this doe would _die. Maybe its pussy got bigger during rutting season? September was too early for that, thankfully. Antonio certainly didn't want any bucks sniffing around after her.

But enough of this. She darted away, leaving her copy behind. The forest seemed endless, though every once in awhile, she emerged from the trees to find a road or house she vaguely recognized.

How much time has it been? Antonio would have to head back early just to be safe - he didn't want to reappear in the middle of the forest to die. Would the search parties even bother to look for a naked crippled boy several miles from his home? They'd probably assume he'd been kidnapped. Still, he hadn't changed back last time until he'd been asleep, and he'd been Cramer for at least an hour. Could be as long as six hours before he'd changed back.

She still had at least thirty minutes.

Deeper into the woods she went, all four hooves pounding the soft earth. The experience was exhilarating. Her near-perfect, wideset eyesight, unbelievable sense of smell, and her ability to all but _fly_totally beat Cramer, and it also beat seeing Angela sweating in the weight room in tight exercise clothes. Though, maybe tomorrow...

She hadn't come across any human landmarks in several minutes. Antonio froze. What if I get lost? She glanced over her shoulder, wondering if doubling back would work. She'd really better start heading back in case the potion wore off in twenty minutes.

What's that?

Antonio glimpsed something ahead - a clearing of sorts, but there was no way it was human in design. She stepped into the clearing, and it was as if the trees just couldn't grow here. There was no rhyme or reason for this space in the depths of the woods. She stepped forward, glancing up at the night sky, a bazillion stars shining down in a way she had never seen before. Between the lack of city lights crowding the sky and her enhanced night-vision, the heavens were a true _cluster_of tiny points of light. It was a magical experience that left Antonio a little light headed.

She took another step forward and stopped short, almost disturbing a bright, white mushroom right in front of her. Blinking, she glanced down to realize that in the very center of the odd clearing was a circle of mushroom caps about ten meters in diameter. How weird. She lifted a hoof to step over and into the circle - she wanted the best view of the sky, after all - but...

She hesitated.

Was that movement?

Antonio could swear she'd seen a slight flicker through the trees on her right. A hunter? No, not only was she still in city limits, but no human would set a trap like this. Still, she paused, debating whether to step into the ring of fungus.

Choices:

A) Step into the ring of mushrooms.

B) Find her way home, keeping her eyes peeled for whatever is watching her.

C) Taste a mushroom.

* * * * *

Jody knew what was _really_important, and it wasn't helping her idiot roommate. Sure, Toria was, even now, whimpering on the ground, all four legs shivering as she stared up at the large, Korean woman staring intently at the bottle.

This is what I need to get back at Victor.

Victor Cartwright had raped her that very morning at a local LAN party. I royally fucked that one up, she thought to herself, checking off all the ways she hadn't responded 'correctly'. Well, now was her chance to not only punish that asshole, but to tell him _exactly_how she felt.

Jody glanced down at Toria, the Chihuahua's ears flat. Was the potion in her hands_permanent?_ If so, Toria was about to experience an epic loss of social status. Could she really use this magic on Victor, even though it might be just shy of murder?

Yes.

"Toria, stay here. I've got...places to be, but I'll be back, okay? You'll be safe."

The little dog cocked her head (his head?) and dropped its jaw at her. Jody just shrugged and walked toward the door, but before she could reach it, Toria had chased after her and grabbed the ankle of her jeans.

"Ugh, fine," Jody complained. "I'll take you with me, but I'm leaving Bert here."

Jody felt ridiculous as she picked the real Chihuhua out of Toria's handbag and tossed him unceremoniously on the girl's bed, then picked up Toria around the paws and hefted her into the bag. Jody did get a glimpse of Toria beneath the tail to find that he _did_have a nice set of balls, matching Bert. Looping the bag over her shoulder, she walked out the door, down the stairs, through the dorm and straight to her car, trying not to feel pretentious.

Tossing the bag gently into the passenger seat, Jody took out her phone, her mind racing with plans. First, to text Victor.

"Hey Victor - wanna meet at the stands? I wanna talk."

"The stands," were bleachers out by the football field that had the dual distinction of being pretty isolated in the middle of the afternoon when the Tigers were having an away game, and being a renowned make-out spot. If Victor really didn't realize that he'd raped her, he might well be egotistical enough to think she'd want to see him again.

"Beep!" the phone rang. "Sure what time?" he texted back.

"Give me thirty minutes"

What an asshole. He really had no idea. He _still_thought she'd _wanted_him, even after she'd said 'no', struggled, and ran. Well, if everything went according to plan, she'd have every opportunity to clarify how she really felt.

"Shut up, Toria, I'm busy," Jody grumbled, finally annoyed by the constant stream of accusatory barks. "Look, it's gonna wear off, okay? The best thing to do is just wait a few hours and see. If you don't change back, then we can think about next steps."

That shut the little dog up.

"If you want to stick with me for your own safety, you're gonna have to be a little more obedient, okay?" Jody added.

The dog zipped it. Jody drove straight to 'The Ark', a little basement pet shop about three blocks from the Occidental College campus. It was a little seedy, but she liked the atmosphere and that they let you touch the animals. Leaving Toria in the car, she climbed the stairs into the basement, where ill-lit halls were filled with animals from ferrets to lizards.

What to pick...

Jody considered the best options: not too dangerous, not too fast, not too easy to accidentally kill, embarrassing, and something that she could carry with her to the bleachers without arousing too much suspicion. That ruled out snakes and birds and anything rodent-sized. Pretty much just cats and dogs, and cats had sharper claws.

She paused in front of the biggest play area, where little dogs were bouncing around. Why didn't I think of that - I already have one.

There, in the center of the circle, was a little Chihuahua, the perfect mix. She could just use Toria. Well, unless that backfired and Victor turned into the human woman version of her. No, better to play it safe, and besides, it would be more embarrassing if Victor turned into a little bitch, like he was on the inside. Carefully, Jody reached down and picked up the Chihuahua, checking under its tail.

Sure enough, she was female! In some ways it felt like fate. The store had a two-day return policy, so though Jody winced at the hundred dollar fee, she could handle that on her credit card for now. She smiled and thanked the man working there, picking out a pretty pink collar and a plastic-studded leash.

Back in the car, Toria barked again, understandably confused. "Look, it's none of your business, Tor, but if you're going to get all PMS about it, I'll tell you. A fucking friend of mine raped me, and I don't care what you say, I'm going to punish the shit out of him."

The Chihuahua blinked, pausing, then nodded.

Jody wrinkled her forehead. Did Toria just...display some empathy and understanding?

A quick stop at a gas station got the South Korean student the bottle of vodka and a Dixie cup. She made it to "the stands" with ten minutes to spare, leaving Toria in the car with Rosy (the Chihuahua she'd just named) in the bag, a red cup full of vodka, and a bottle of vodka with just a little bit remaining - of magic potion!

Victor was only 20, so he'd jump at a chance for some underage drinking, and only realize too late that the clear liquid inside wasn't alcohol at all. Jody waited as patiently as she could, checking her phone for any texts.

She needn't wait long. Victor arrived five minutes early, swaggering along the stands to sit beside Jody.

"Hey, Jodes. What's with the dog?"

Jody glanced over at the purse. "Watching it for my roommate."

The curly-haired Junior glanced at the nearly empty bottle of vodka. "You okay? What'd you wanna talk about?"

She just smiled, looking around to confirm that no one was around to see. "I'm fine. Just thought you might want to share a drink. It's a nice day."

Victor let out his breath. "Yeah, okay Jody." He didn't reach for the bottle yet. Instead, he glanced at her and said, "Look, I wanted to...you know...I mean..."

Jody raised an eyebrow.What's this?

Victor continued, "I kinda have a crush on you. I mean, I _have had_one. I..."

Jody handed him the bottle of vodka and he took it. "Yeah?" she asked.

While Victor worked through his words, Jody reached over to the handbag, picking it up, Rosy and all. He said, "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so..."

Jody had to suppress her revulsion. _Sorry I raped you._That wasn't enough. It wasn't _nearly_enough.

"Forceful," he finished, turning to the bottle to down the liquid.

Jody lifted the handbag to her face, praying that the next thing he saw was the Chihuahua. Things wouldn't work out quite right if he turned into a copy of_Jody_. (There was a 10% chance of a mix-up - rolled 69, goes as planned).

"Blech!" Victor gasped. "_That's_what vodka tastes like?" he asked, glancing over at Jody only to look puzzled at the dog in the purse. "Jody?"

Jody was on the edge of her seat, hoping it still worked. "Ach!" Victor gasped, dropping the bottle so that it rolled off the bleachers and shattered below them. "W-what..."

Jody put the purse down, amazed as she watched another person transform slowly and apparently painfully into a tiny, fuzzy little dog. His eyes bugged out, either from surprise, or because he was becoming a Chihuahua. He had no idea what was happening, but all his attempts at words came out as low, grumbling growls. It didn't take long before the small animal disappeared into his Occidental Tiger's shirt.

After he was surely done, Jody picked up the t-shirt, revealing a wide-eyed, confused little Chihuahua, a perfect copy of Rosy. "What was that, Victor? Finally developing a conscience?"

Victor looked stunned.

"If you ever want to be human again, you'll do as I say. And the first thing on the agenda is for you to sit there and _listen_for once in your _goddamned_life."

The former Junior sat there, trembling, though that might just be because he was a short-furred little lump of skin. Jody had been planning what she would say for thirty minutes, but all that planning went out the window, and so did her resolve not to cry in front of him. Whatever.

Tears already forming, she said, "You raped me. You knew you did, but you didn't care. And then you have the balls to pretend you had a crush on me, after months of calling me a fat whale. _'Forceful'?_What a bullshit copout. And that's only here, where no one else could hear you. What would you say if I'd told them all what you did? That I was just jealous? Do you know I had to get Plan B? No, of course not, because you don't fucking care about anyone but yourself."

Jody took some small pleasure that Victor had his tail between his legs. "Well, rationalize this. Tell yourself I wanted it, that I was playing a game to make you look bad in front of your friends, or whatever. But now you know - this_is how I feel. You made me feel like shit, and now you're actually a _dog, not just playing one for your friends."

The Chihuahua was huddled up now, ears flat, still trembling as he looked up at her. "What am I doing to do with you, Victor?" she asked to herself, as much as to him. "Or should I say...Vicky?"

'His' ears perked up at that, glancing down past her tail to see that, yes indeed, he was a she. Jody could only smile at the horror on her little face.

But really, what now?

Choices:

A) Humiliate Victor by carrying him (and Toria) around in the bag.

B) Return Victor to the pet shop (instead of Rosy).

C) Give Victor a taste of his own medicine - hold her down and finger her.

* * * * *

Dario DeJong was in a tight bind. At least he had convinced his pimp's guards to leave the building, but Jay Dee himself was still fainted from the shock of Dario suddenly morphing into a large, black man that looked _almost_like Dee himself - perhaps his brother.

Certainly the unassuming Oklahoma native wasn't looking for trouble, but something in the vitamin water that Dee had given him was pure magic - a curse. Based on Dee's reaction, the powerful criminal had had no idea what would happen when Dario drank the liquid. How would he react when he came to?

Not for the first time Dario considered running for it. Grabbing what he could out of the safe and hitching a ride to Washington D.C. or Seattle or even Canada. Perhaps Dee would forget what had happened, or disbelieve it, or be unable to track him down. But Dario needed to know more about the potion, he needed to find out if he would ever change back. Drinking the potion a second time had tingled slightly but otherwise had no visible effect.

Or perhaps the young prostitute was too afraid to act.

Out of fear, he sat the large man in a chair and used a rope that held Nigerian ornaments from the wall to tie Jay Dee up. He wrapped the coils around him as many times as he could, weaving them back and forth in a convincing sort of way before trying to recall the one week he had been a member of the Cub Scouts. Better safe than sorry, and with Dee restrained, Dario could explain his innocence clearly.

Testing the knot, Dario stepped back, satisfied that the man he had always admired was comfortable and safely contained. Dee was still breathing, but he'd been unconscious for nearly thirty minutes now. Gently, Dario nudged the man to see if he would wake up.

A heavier shove proved effective, as Dee groaned and opened his eyes.

Dario stood five feet in front of him as the dark-skinned man's bright, white eyes opened in the ill-lit room. "Mr. -" he started.

But as soon as Jay Dee saw and registered his twisted mirror image, his eyes rolled and he yelled and fought at the rope binding him. He kicked his legs, and the only words Dario could hear were, "Daemon!", as the rest were either grunts or in Nigerian - or whatever they spoke in Nigeria.

"Woah! Woah, calm down!" Dario said, holding his light palms up.

"_You_are ze reason..." he growled incoherently, still tugging and struggling against the ropes. If Dario had known the man would try so hard, he would have tied the ropes tighter.

"What? I'm just Dario - I don't know what's happening either!"

But Dee shook his head, trying to kick the legs of the chair into shards in his effort to free himself. "Why me, daemon? I tried, I tried."

Briefly, Dario considered pretending to be a daemon, if only to get the man to shut up, but he said, "I'm not a daemon; I'm Dario! Something in that potion you gave me -"

Perhaps Dario's saving grace was not his own unconvincing pleas, but Dee's slowing efforts as he panted loudly, chest straining against the ropes. He finally started to calm down, glancing up at his doppelganger. "Where are ze guards."

It didn't sound like a question. "I sent them home. They thought I was you."

"What do you want fom me? Did Lebaron send you?" Dee asked.

"What?"

"Or did you_send _Lebaron?" the large, black man added.

Dario blinked, until he realized what was happening. "I'm _not_a daemon! It's me, Dario - something in that water turned me into you." The skepticism in his eyes did not reassure the young Oklahoman. He said, "In the name of the father, son, and holy ghost, I swear to you I am what I say."

_That_gave the man pause.

"Azzuming you ah what you say you ah, untie me!"

Dario paused again. "Not until you calm down," he said, summoning a courage he didn't really feel he had. Standing up to his boss seemed easier when you stood as tall as he did, and he was tied up to a chair. "Please, tell me where you got that Vitamin water. Is there a cure?"

Dee shook his head. "I don' belief you. Zhere is nozzing special aboud dat water. I ordered it online."

Dario's hopes fell. "But I started to change right after drinking it."

"Look," he said slowly, enunciating. "I may haf somezhing for you. In ze safe."

"What?"

"Ze receipt. It may help."

Dario considered that a moment. Why leave a receipt for Vitamin water in the safe, if it were just normal? But, Dario knew it wasn't just normal Vitamin water. There was something Dee wasn't telling him.

"Ze combination is 54, 34, 11."

Dario paused. That sounded like the code he'd read earlier. "Okay..." he said, stepping up to the safe and grabbing the dial. He could hear the thing clicking as it spun, with no noticeable change at the code numbers. Spinning quickly, Dario spun the dial right, then left, then right again. With a thud, he pressed down on the access button.

Nothing happened.

A sharp, sudden blow knocked Dario backwards, and he spun, dazed, to glimpse Jay Dee standing upright, the ropes that had tied his hands in a pile on the floor. (Dario had a 20% chance to mess up the ropes; rolled 20, for a narrow fail). While Dario tried to steady himself, Dee went for the dial, spinning ever so slightly to '12' and pressing the button to open it.

The safe swung open, and the large man reached in for an additional advantage he really didn't need. Dario had never fought in his life, and his newfound size and muscles couldn't match someone with the same body and the life experiences. Still, when Dario saw Dee draw a handgun from the safe, everything changed.

He couldn't tell if the daze was from the blow to his head or the sheer insanity of fighting for his life. He flung himself full into his opponent, not allowing him to draw the gun that he felt sure wasn't just a bargaining chip. Dee meant to kill him! Dario felt himself get struck again and again as he flailed against the large Nigerian, once getting hit by the butt of the gun based on the loud crack- one of the few sounds that pierced the blurry nonsense of the moment. But he was striking just as fast, hands flailing, digging his nails into Dee as he kicked and kneed and finally stepped on Dee's foot.

Off-balance, the two spun and fell to the ground, Dario on top of Dee. The sound of their crashing into the carpet was nothing compared to the sound that came next.

The roar of the gun was like firework threatening to engulf everything that meant everything to Dario DeJong. His very life was at risk, and even if he somehow survived, his life was practically over. What insane roll of the dice had brought him here, transformed by magic in front of a powerful, dangerous criminal? Why could it not have been someone else, some other prostitute, anyone except mild Dario, who wanted nothing more than to survive.

(Dario had a 50% chance to be shot; rolled an 86 - it is Dee instead).

The world swam back into focus, as Dario picked himself off of Jay Dee, only to see that the man's chest was covered in blood. At first, he assumed it was his own blood, but when he looked down, his too-tight shirt was barely stained. The gun lay a few feet away just beyond Dee's unclenched hand.

Dee was gasping for breath, eyes wide, coughing up blood. He was still alive, barely, staring through those brilliant white eyes in shock and anger at the daemon that had done this to him. Dario was rent, tears dropping from his eyes. He knew that Jay Dee was an honorable man, torn by dueling loyalties. He didn't deserve to die! That the man had meant the killing bullet for Dario instead played no part in Dario's grief.

If I can save him, then_he will listen to me_, but how can I save him?

Choices:

1. Feed him the potion - the magic may change him into a healthy copy of himself.
2. Take the money and run.
3. Kill him - it's the only way. Then lay low for a while.

* * * * *

Cynthae was in the fight of her life. Still bleeding from the talon wound in her chest, the yellow-feathered chick was lying helplessly in a hawk's nest, just seconds away from a killing bite from the deadly beak above her.

For the first time in her life, the young woman wanted to give up. Her husband was struggling in the clutches of a snake and she doubted she'd be able to find him if she were human. He might already be dead! She could hardly be expected to fight off a hawk in this form, and she was already nearly frozen to death. Even if the hawk simply flew off and left, she would die in the tree. It would be so easy to lie still and let that powerful beak sink into her.

But she couldn't think that way. She couldn't! Terrell needed her help and she wouldn't stop trying, even to the last second. Glancing to the edge of the nest, she decided she had better odds learning to fly on the way down than holding off a hawk more than fifty times her size. As the raptor lowered its head towards the oddly silent chick, probably assuming Cynthae was already near dead, she summoned all her willpower and ran, never stopping, right off the edge of the nest.

The loud _snap_of the hawk's beak and a rush of air told Cynthae she'd barely made it. (Cynthae had a 10% chance of death, 40% chance of maiming, and 50% chance of making it; rolled a 98, made it).

The fall was strangely surreal as she spun slowly to the ground. The wind didn't rush past, as she expected. Rather, the fall was mostly silent. The world was incomprehensible as it appeared and disappeared and appeared: sky, then earth, then sky. Suddenly her vision was filled with earth, and a loud thump.

Cynthae lay there for a few moments, until she heard the screech. She should have realized the hawk wouldn't let her go that easily. Glancing around frantically, she glimpsed the roots of the tree - there was space beneath it. Summoning all her will to survive, the baby chicken crawled slowly into the tight crawl space.

Either the hawk couldn't see her, or wouldn't risk landing to search, but Cynthae lay there, quietly bleeding, the only heat radiating from the tree itself. She had absolutely no sense of time, though she knew _hers_was running out. She wouldn't last an hour, maybe two.

Carefully, Cynthae balled herself up and dug herself into the dirt, finding that there was warmth in the earth she hadn't at first expected. She hadn't given up before, but now she knew it was all hopeless. Her only chance was for the potion to wear off before she died of the chill. After half-an-hour, she knew her hopes were fruitless, and Cynthae lay down to sleep for the last time.

...

Her eyes popped open. She felt something - tingling. Weakly, she rolled forward, knowing the root might cause a problem. To her amazement, she felt herself reforming, growing, her feathers sinking away into her growing skin until she lay, panting, naked.

The talon wound was still there, three inches wide in her abdomen, but thankfully not too deep. The wound had certainly scaled up from the change, so had it been just a millimeter deeper, it would be a hundred times deeper on her now. Cynthae sat up, blinking her eyes.

"I...made it," she said, stunned. She felt woozy, probably from the blood loss, but other than that, she was surprisingly intact. Her second thought was more important.

Terrell...

Choice:

A) Find Terrell.

* * * * *

Luther was a patient pig. While the man and his human sow argued about something that didn't interest him, he waited until they were walking back toward the house, still bickering. This was the perfect moment to try out that potion again.

Luther had broken into cans and bottles to get at the food inside before, but everything seemed easier now. He snuck the bottle out from behind the trough and carefully grabbed the cork in his teeth. He was careful not to spill any as he lifted it up just enough to feel the liquid spill into his mouth. He placed the bottle carefully in the mud and looked up at the retreating humans.

Just like before, he began to shift and change, his lightly-furred, pink skin growing slightly less pink as his legs turned into awkward human appendages, his small tail completely disappearing. He grew in height, but not in size. Something was different...

He must have looked at the wrong human! He was turning into the human sow, as evidenced by the large blobs of fat billowing out of his chest. Luther shrugged. Crystal was slightly more appealing than Fenner anyway, though the boar didn't like the idea that he was a female for the next hour or two. On all fours in the mud, the freshly transformed woman corked the bottle carefully and hid it so that Grantham, the little boar who shared the pen with him, couldn't get into it.

Speaking of Grantham, Luther's newest pen-mate was the latest in a long line of young boars that had become friends with the large, fertile boar. One after another, each of the others (Sherlock, Clarkson, Martin, and so on) had been taken into the shed behind the pig pen, and though Fenner always emerged, Luther's friends had disappeared. With his newfound mobility, it was finally time for Luther to figure out what was happening to the young boars.

The pig stood, once again able to balance on two legs in a way that had seemed impossible before. He looked up and down his woman's body, remembering when he'd bred the horny sow the day before. Her body was much more appealing when it was _under_him, instead of part of him.

Without a glance at the house where the humans surely continued their bickering, Luther stepped over the fence and approached the old shed. His heart was strangely racing the closer he got. He'd never been afraid of anything before, but now, as he approached the building, he got the feeling that something terrible had been going on, and he'd never noticed, or really cared before. He reached for the handle, his feminine hand shaking.

The door swung open, and Luther peered in, letting his eyes adjust slowly to the darkness in the shed. He paused, but stepped through, holding his breath.

Everything seemed like a blur. He caught glimpses of confusing images, each like pieces of a puzzle that no one wanted to finish. A large table stood in the center of the room, a large water basin at its foot above smoky ashes. On the wall, metal shined on the edge of a long knife. Red stains marked the floor, a thin grate at the center, below thick metal chains that reached to the ceiling. A large, white container hummed away in the corner, it's large, white door latched with a chrome metal handle. On the wall, Luther glimpsed the gun he'd often seen Fenner use to obliterate gophers on the property (there was a 70% chance that Fenner left his rifle in the slaughter house, rolled 30). The whole place stank of blood and death, all the more impressive due to Luther's dull, human nose.

Slowly, the young woman who was really a pig approached the locker, reaching out a hand to turn the metal lever. The door popped open with a hiss, cold air blowing out. Luther might have found the cooler air refreshing, if not for Sherlock. Or what remained of him. Hanging in the meat locker was the visage of his former friend, shot in the head, sliced through the neck, gutted down the middle, bled out, skinned and boiled.

Luther closed the door and froze.

Choices:

1. Confront Fenner - he's got a lot of explaining to do.
2. Grab the gun and _then_confront Fenner.
3. Go get Grantham and high-tail it out of this nightmare farm.