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He started working when the sun touched the horizon, placing everything where it should be, drawing the circle with wobbling hands. When he finished, Albert wiped the sweat from his brow and grinned. It was perfect! The ritual could only go well now.

While he waited for the moon to begin its ascent, he thumbed through the book to find the words, muttering them under his breath. He could have nothing with him in the ritual circle, not even his clothes, meaning it was important he knew the words perfectly. The correct spirits needed to find him.

His teeth ached at the thought; some would say he was being rather dramatic, choosing to perform a dark ritual over going to the dentist to get the cavities filled. To that, all he could say was A: It was cheaper, and B: It was cooler and more fun.

At that thought he saw the moon rise over distant hills, the lower range of its circle brushing against the snowy peaks. He stripped and stepped into the circle; the construction of the ritual had begun when the sun was in the same position, meaning he had to start the performance now for the ritual to reach it's full power.

The candlelight flickered, casting ghostly light over his pasty skin. He spread out his arms, turning clockwise from moon to the light horizon where the sun had once been, feeling like a fool. He sincerely hoped none of the neighbours saw him T-posing for the spirits. Unfortunately, the ritual required one such circuit for every tooth he hoped to fix, and it was a very long time before he could stop circling and the red embarrassment colouring his cheeks faded.

He took a deep breath before the next phase. Now it was time for the request, the one which would make the dark spirits listen. "All who listen to me, flesh and ghost, ghost and flesh, come to me and do my bidding, fix what has gone wrong. My mouth craves your powers." At first, he thought the chilly feeling in his mouth was the sensitivity of his teeth against the frosty evening. Then, the night grew darker, and a cloak of shadow blotted out the stars. All that remained was the moon and the sun, which had somehow risen again.

His breath hitched in his throat. It was now or never, but he couldn't bring himself to speak, for the ritual words were gone from his brain. The stars began gleaming again. The sun became a reddish, falling ghost.

"Dente dente dente tempus." The words flowed out of him like molten from a forge; it was a powerful feeling, speaking incomprehensible Latin to those that might be watching. The darkness fell down again, breathing, watching, waiting. A curiosity that was not his own tickled in the back of his mind, a ghost speaking without words.

Now what was next? "Pub...Pubentes dentes... amabiles dentes," he said tentatively. Something changed in the dark; a creature lurking in those shadows, perhaps one with infinite power over root canals and braces.

Confidence filled him, and memory of the words; Albert belted the last verse out. "Nonne spiritus eris parum pudici et dentes figere?"

The darkness whirled like a hurricane. The last thing he saw before it knocked him out was green glistening eyes and snow white fangs.

He came groaning back into consciousness, head whirling like he had spent the last day on a rollercoaster. "Ugh..." Albert groaned, slumping down. He must still be in the ritual circle, because he was naked. Still, shouldn't there be grass underfoot? His head lashed around, and he bit back a scream.

All around him was a world of darkness, starless and featureless, the ground merely a neutral black. The moon hung bright overhead, and so did the sun, yet neither cast any light. They seemed to glower at him, shining with mockery.

He forced himself up into a sitting position and put his head between his hands. Somehow, he had got himself stuck in another dimension! And there was no way out that he could see, none at all. Even worse, he thought, clutching his jaw while wincing, the spirit that had done this hadn't even fixed his teeth. They had been clattered around by their journey, and were happy to let him know their displeasure with that fact by throbbing pain and sharp jolts of electricity. That fucking spirit...

Wait. He remembered the creature's shining eyes and teeth, heart pounding. Could it be here, waiting for him?

A soft, rumbling laugh echoed through the world. He shot up and stared into the darkness, seeing nothing. Except, if he squinted, there was a brief blur of movement, too far out to properly see. And when he turned around him (for the laugh always reverberated from the opposite of the direction he was looking in), he would catch a brief flash of eyes before the laugh moved once more. "Who are you?" he whispered, hoping the spirit would not tear him apart for his insolence.

"Me? I am a spirit; you called me, did you not?" The voice came soft as velvet, with a faint undertone of bestial growling. Hairs rose on the back of Albert's neck; somehow the voice was disarming and terrifying at the same time.

"Uh..." He wasn't sure how to speak to the spirit politely, lest he ended up getting smote. "I don't think so? Unless you were planning on fixing my teeth, that is."

The spirit halted their constant motion. In the brief second they stood, he made out muscles and spotted pelt, muzzle and long teeth. Then it moved again. "You made a mistake, it looks like. The summoning for the dentist's spirits is the Call of the Tooth; mine is the Stuttering Call of the Tooth." They sighed. "Didn't you bother reading the instructions for the ritual? They tell you to get the words perfect for a reason." At that last word, the voice was little more than an animalistic snarl. Albert crouched and prepared to die.

To his surprise, the spirit fell still and slumped again. A four-legged creature, he realised, some massive beast non-existent in reality. "I wasted my time," they said, voice so bestial it was hard to understand. But unlike the angry snarl before, it was a mewl of sadness.

Pity stirred in his heart. "What do you need?" he asked, stepping closer (it had no effect; when he tried to walk, the glossy ground seemed to stretch and got him no closer to the spirit.)

"Love," the spirit whispered, a new tone in its voice. The spirit was a she, he realised with a jolt.

"Well, I guess I could try giving you that?" The cogs whirred in his brain. "If you could fix my teeth in exchange, that would be really nice."

She laughed. "Of course! When I am done with you, you'll have the finest teeth of all the worlds." He didn't like the sly tone in the spirit's voice, but he let her come closer, paw steps soft in the darkness.

Saber-tooth was the first thought on his mind when he saw her properly, and it was the correct one; the shape of the spirit was unmistakable, massive and powerful of body, with an equally robust set of jaws crowned with the fangs that were the species' namesake. He had seen a skeleton of one in a museum once; the dusty bones paled compared to the spirit's rippling shape, the artist's reconstruction beside it a child's drawing when put up against the glittering tawny, spotted pelt that seemed to contain all the colours of the world if one looked hard enough.

The spirit did not speak to Albert; all she did was rub her magnificent head against his outstretched palms, a soft purr rumbling in her chest. Then she walked off again into the darkness.

"So uh, what were you..." He trailed off, feeling his hands tingle with the strangest sensation he had ever felt. The only comparison he could make was the sensation of pins and needles, if they were both a thousand times worse and as pleasant as a massage. He shook them to be free of the sensation, which only strengthened it. Dizziness gathered in his head at the sheer strength of the feeling.

Albert closed his eyes and panted, not opening his eyes until the sensation abated. What met his eyes were not his hands returning to normal; quite the opposite. Instead, his jaws dropped as his fingers grew fat and his palms soft. Clenching them felt like he was holding a stress ball in them. When he poked his palms, the skin had a gritty texture, but the flesh beneath was a cushion.

Oh shit. Was the ritual going wrong? The spirit watched him, eyes bright with amusement. His eyes darted between her and his hands, which were now so large they looked like massive gloves on his body, an impression not helped by the way parts of the skin were discoloured. Discoloured by fur.

It took him a moment to accept it, but once he touched it, there was no denying the soft strands were just that. Pale tan fur grew in rich tufts about his knuckles and the top of his hands, even longer white hairs growing in patches on the underside of his palms. The gritty bits of cushiony flesh swelled outwards, pads so soft that he sighed in pleasure when he touched them and rubbed them against his face, despite knowing he ought to be worried. He waved his paws around, noticing they were not quite full animal paws owing to his thumb and the length his digits had which allowed him to bend them. When he spread them out, he found he could move something within them and bring out claws three times as long as his nails had once been, deadly switchblades he had utter control over.

This presented a problem; they were so big they were weighing his arms down, making them ache from the sheer heft of them. He looked beseechingly into the shadows for the spirit; she wasn't there.

"I move quickly," she said in an amused voice behind him. Her claws dug into his shoulders, almost forcing him down onto the ground from the weight of her rubbing against his arms (he suspected she was holding back her full strength, because she looked strong enough to snap him like a twig).

"So, could you explain-" She was already gone; watching the show from afar was all she was willing to do.

Albert's arms were swelling. They had been decent before- he had gone to the gym twice a week and his job had a lot of heavy lifting. However, his arms now weren't just the arms of a normal man, or even a bodybuilder; these were the arms of a beast. Already they were heavy like his paws, but at least he could move those better now, and he could see his chest harden up to support the weight. It was all he could do to bite back a grin when he flexed and saw them ripple with power. He'd never managed such great results in the gym!

As he flexed and showed off his guns, fur ran up his arms from the fur below. Most of it was pale tan, the white fading into darkness about his wrists, though there was some paler fur about his underarms and elbows. Some patches, oddly, remained bare. He rubbed them and frowned, the feel jarring beneath the sensitive touch of his pads. The spirit chuckled.

However, he didn't need to wait long to find out what was happening; dark fur sprang up in the gaps, a deep chestnut which gleamed red in the dim lights of the sun and moon. He moaned in pleasure at the feeling of his plush, muscular arms being complete, hugging himself to transfer the warm energy into the rest of his body.

The spirit huffed in amusement. "Looking handsome, aren't you?" He frowned at her, cocking his head. Was it just him, or did she look different herself? She didn't give him any time to linger on that question before sniffing at his crotch, the bulk of her pushing aside his thighs.

"Wh.. Wha-" He could only speak in garbled murmurs, for she had found his cock. Tensing in horror as her tongue slipped out of her mouth, he sagged down and moaned as she licked it. He knew cats' tongues were rough, and hers was too in the best possible way. It felt like her tongue was ridged in all the right ways, digging into nerves in his cock he had never known of and bringing out the pleasure in them.

His cock had already been twitching upwards when his arms grew; now it was standing to attention for the spirit, dribbling with pre-cum. She attended to it with patience, keeping her sharp teeth well away from it, her tongue more than enough. Albert felt weak on his feet from the combination of his unbalanced body and his arousal, an excited flutter building up in his lower stomach.

Yet he didn't cum, no matter how much the spirit licked. His cock was so engorged it was massive- it was changing too, he realised hazily. But it wasn't tipping over the edge, wasn't matching up to the size of his arms or paws. She met his eyes, a little smile on her face (had she been able to make such expressions before?), and he groaned, breathing out the word. "Please."

Just as he thought she would continue licking him forever and it would never change, she wrapped her tongue around his cock, stretching it in her warm mouth.

Albert roared, spittle splattering through the sky. Release thundered through him like a storm, cock and balls spraying a frenzy of cum which he felt the spirit drink gladly, little groans of pleasure emanating from her. He crouched down onto the ground panting, flushing as the sensation of his bulging cock and balls rubbing against the ground. His nut sack was white furred and even his big hands would struggle to hold them, while his cock was a thing of beauty, throbbing read with its spines standing proudly up. The spirit lapped the last bit of cum from his head.

It was as if his refractory period didn't exist; he curled his lip and snarled like a beast, claws digging into the ground as his dick pulsed again, spitting another spray of cum out. This time, the spirit didn't bother drinking it all up. She purred and stroked her head against his knee.

She was definitely changing too, he realised; her forepaws had more flexibility to them now as they clasped at his feet and she licked them. Her body elongated subtly, letting her sit in a very human manner as she attended to his legs.

He lay back and wobbled like jelly under her attentions, panting and snarling in pleasure. His mouth pressed out, nose growing longer and blocking his vision, though after a certain point the snout refused to grow, perhaps because it was not the focus of the spirit's attentions. His teeth ached in protest at the change- Albert sighed. At least they had stopped bothering him during the blowjob, he supposed. I'd rather have them not bother me ever again.

Teeth were easy to forget, however, when he had his bulging legs turning into those of a predator. Like his arms, muscle wrapped around the bones until they were massive things, easily twice or three times the size of what they once were. However, it was quicker now, the spirit paying them close attention; every gentle brush and purr sent waves of joy through him. His lover, making his body perfect for her. His cock grew hard again at that thought.

He grasped it and pleasured himself, not wanting to disrupt her work. She pushed her nose into his feet at the exact moment he once again came, forcing them into a long length with one massive effort. "Very nice," she purred, before nibbling and licking at them.

Bucking and moaning, he felt the paws come in, thick and cushioned, even more massive than his fingers; each of his toes was at least the size of his thumb, stuffed with fluff and big beans. He flexed them, sighing in ecstasy at how flexible they were, before taking them up into his hands and pressing on them, purring at the thick feeling of those soft pads.

Albert made to stand; however, the spirit was having none of it. She purred and pushed him down, still strong enough to do so. She took up his balls and fondled them until he turned red before getting to her next task, kneading at his chest with only the pricks of her claws out. He felt them red sharp, little points of pain, and knew if she slipped or let them fully out, she would tear deep enough into his chest to reach her heart.

Instead of bringing fear, it brought arousal. He might be a strong, powerful beast, but his mate was too, and they could tear each other to bits in their pleasure. Well, she certainly could. He looked down at himself. He wasn't quite done yet, even if he was close.

The spirit's tits pressed against his chest, compressing at the ever-increasing weight of his chest. He pushed outwards and upwards, torso stretching to a new height, ribs pushing out and making him look alarmingly thin. Slowly, the muscles built up, slithering from his arms and legs downwards. His tiny pecs stretched and grew, deltoids growing in proportion to him. His small, hard nipples touched against the thick ones of the spirit; her tongue found his lips, and they kissed, tongues deep into each other's mouths until he felt like he would choke, lips clamped together as if they couldn't live without their touch. His paws went to her tits and rubbed in circles around the nipples while she touched his abs.

At first, his stomach was small and soft in comparison to the rest of him. It didn't last; she tapped in two neat rows and his abs eagerly jumped up at her touch. Each new puff of muscle made Albert's kiss more ferocious, his touch faster. She curled her massive, fanged mouth and roared in approval, vagina slick.

He was like her now, except for his head. "Now I'll do your teeth," she said with a soft laugh, and they returned to making out.

This time, he used the strength of his body and guided his cock into her cunt, which she accepted with a happy growl. She pinched him on his cheek.

The cheek flared into a fluffy, wide dish, the fur spreading and lightly slicking his ears, flatting them out. She rubbed the ears into place with her paw, pushing it with a gentle touch to the top of his domed head.

He sped up, pumping his cock and balls at a relentless rate into her. She was rolling her eyes, snarling and purring, but she didn't stop. She licked his snout, and he licked hers, their faces pushing into each other as he got a proper snout.

A wash of soothing numbness filled his jaw. It was the pain from his teeth; it was gone. He hadn't realised it was so strong all the time until she took it away. He squirmed in ecstasy, feeling his teeth sharpen. "Go on, big boy. Show me what you've got."

He snarled, focusing all his strength into fucking her, feeling the length of his teeth grow. Fangs pushed against his dangling jowls; he licked them, approving of their thickness.

They rolled, sometimes him on the top, sometimes her, nipping and snarling and yowling. He gloried in the strength in himself, raking his new saber teeth across her fur, still too tentative to leave blood.

She was not so cautious. As the sex reached a crescendo and he yowled as an orgasm washed down upon him, she bit.

They came together, Albert daring to interlock his teeth into his own lover's shoulder, great rumbles of pleasured pain rocking the dark earth. Tussling in their climax, snarling and smiling, their orgasm soared to new heights and felt as if it would last forever.

His cock didn't lock like a dog's would, but he kept it in, kept on driving it into her as she yowled and slashed in wild joy. His cum pumped from him like a hose, filling her womb. Her belly jutted, at first softening the muscles of her belly, then hiding them entirely. She fattened with his seed, and in her scent he could tell she would take it and ripen with cubs.

Which would be perfect. Now they were no longer trapped in the dark world; it was on grass between verdant that they fucked, crushing flowers and bushes under their weight. They stopped and panted, looked up together. Their perspective on the ground wasn't great, but he could smell the sharp snow of mountains, towering forests and plains of prey, and he knew his mate could, too.

She chuffed and purred, licking him, and they tussled lazily one more time before falling asleep, excited about the possibilities their new territory would provide them.

The saber-toothed man carried his kill over their shoulders; a bison he had caught unawares when it went to drink from the river too close to the forest. His mate could've caught another one if she had been there, though he knew this offering would be ample and these days she wasn't out hunting for such large prey.

She was waiting for him. Leaping out of the trees and twitching her stubby tail, she embraced him and licked him playfully, baring her long teeth before grasping his cock. He growled in pleasure and let her push them to the ground, then massaged her broad tits. She was far into her pregnancy now, tits as large as her head with another pair underneath, body wide and fat. He licked her belly gently before continuing to work on her nipples until she purred and milk sprayed out.

They lay there purring for a bit before remembering the bison and returning to their den, utterly content, with perfect teeth and ready for the litter.