Dog Tags
Finally, a short story that is actually short!
This one does not have much characterization, just a quick human to feral TF with a vaguely military setting.
Also, this piece was an experiment with more manual stimulation, as generally I find myself being sucked into an oral fixation, and wanted to try something different.
Disclaimer: Thou shalt not read if under the age of 18 (or whatever age you have to be to legally view pornography.) Please don't read if you find transformation or animalistic eroticism to be unappealing. Otherwise, read on Macduff.
Dog Tags
The training had been rigorous. "Intensive," they called it. Sixteen hours a day for the last nine days. No time to think, no time to talk; only follow orders. There had been thirty prospective recruits originally, but now, he was among the final six. His muscles ached, and his scrapes and bruises burned, reminding him of scaling walls with wild abandon, and crawling under sheets of razor wire with no concern for his personal safety.
Follow orders. For his country.
The lights flared on. In one fluid motion he flew from his bed, standing at attention even as the olive drab wool blanket that smelled like the mothballs in his grandparent's attic drifted back to the bed. He had not woken up, that would imply sleep. Sleep would suggest the possibility of dreams. He had simply turned on his body after letting it repair itself for a few hours.
The man was the last one in his bunk room, but he knew they were still watching him. Cameras in the corners whirred as he slid on his general issue tee-shirt and worn canvas pants. With a soft click one of the doors opened of its own accord, and, after a second at attention to see if the Sargent would calmly stride through, he laced up his boots and entered the strangely barren hallway.
Everything seemed oddly surgical, stainless steel. His footsteps echoed as the door sealed itself behind him with a hiss. The sound of seething air intensified, as a pale fog seeped out of previously unseen grates along the ceiling. Standing at attention, he closed his eyes and waited.
On the second day of training, the whole group had been placed in a CS gas chamber. Usually in such situations the Sargent would let his troop out after two minutes and thirty seconds exactly. Everyone had experienced that at boot camp. But, no one knew how long they had been left in the chamber. The small mousey one, he couldn't remember his name, had gone mad. Beating at the door, knees in a pool of his own snot and vomit, pleading, begging to be let out. After they were finally released, he was forgotten, as the rest of the group continued on in their intensive training.
The stinging smell of noxious vapor never arrived. It was something that was oddly soothing, a dark and deep smell from such a light colored gas, it was oddly rich, slightly musky even. He opened his eyes, but the lack of debilitating effects was not as soothing as it should have been. Doubt crept into the back of his mind, there must be something worse coming. He didn't want to disappoint . . . anyone.
An exit opened up at the end of the hall, door sliding open as the gas dissipated, leading into a dimly lit room with a smooth concrete floor. His mind wandered as his feet walked in. This was the first time he'd been separated from the group, was this the end of training or . . .
A throaty growl rose as he entered the room, in the dim light his eyes searched the spartan chamber, and he knew he must be dreaming.
Standing there, arms crossed over its lean chest was a dog, a man, a CO? His mind reeled as the muscled arms uncrossed and canine eyes drilled into him. It was covered in a thin layer of sleek fur, dark slick black with brown highlights, almost like a . . . doberman? The two legs it stood on were oddly bent, standing on broad paws that padded towards him as black claws clicked against the concrete floor.
The eyes drilled into him, dark amber gaze somehow impossible to break, he saw the long pointed dog-like face, complete with a black wet nose and pointed ears that stood at attention as he appraised the recruit's form. Their eyes were locked together, neither showing any sign of looking down until the point of the dog-man's muzzle was so close, twitching as it, it sniffed him.
Blinking the man dropped his gaze. He could still smell that gas, musty and deep, impossible to get out of his head. The man had to make sure that he didn't show any signs of weakness, but he had to make sure he followed orders. Nothing had been spoken, but he felt oddly compelled. It was like receiving an affirmative only through body language, but so much more seemed to actually be said.
Looking down he realized that his fingers had already unlaced his boots, he began to wonder why before he remembered being ordered to do so. He looked up to see the canine muzzle smile at him as he tore off his socks, his stern gaze seeming to praise him, he must be doing the right thing. Tugging off his pants and stretching out of his thin shirt took almost no time, before he was beset by doubt again.
Standing up, he looked at his CO, no, at the creature in the room with him. It was hard not to simply accept the thing as a figure of authority. Was this some form of test? Was he supposed to fight or, was this a test of his ability to follow orders. In confusion he looked down at himself. Dressed only in a set of skivvies. His mind raced as he realized that his commander, or. . . the dog-thing, was stark naked, and that an animal sheath rested between its legs, taut light brown fuzzed testes hanging under them.
His mind reeled as he pulled down his last scrap of clothing, just as he had been commanded to. Before he could even begin to recover his senses, strong and slightly rough paw-padded hands guided him down, firmly tugging him until he was on his hands and knees. The man was confident that he was following his orders to a Q.
Leathery hands pulled over his thighs as blunt claws dragged lightly across them. They were strong and they dug firmly into his tight flesh in some kind of bizarre massage. But why would his CO do anything like . . .
Eyes widening in surprise he felt the roughly kneading hands in a different way, like they were combing through velveteen hair. His skin felt looser, but not bad as the rubbing stopped abruptly. Both strong hands grabbed his left thigh and there was a sickening crack as they pushed an pulled, levering it so that it was painlessly aligned more to the side of his body, they jerked roughly as his calf shortened slightly.
As the warm hand-paws left to grasp his other leg he looked back and stared hazily at his changed limb. The outside was a rich wooden brown, covered in smooth glossy, yet very short hairs. His inner thighs were a much lighter shade, almost a tan, and the whole leg had been pulled oddly so that it looked almost like a dog's . . .
Why didn't this hurt? Why would this be a part of training? They wouldn't make him go so far through training just to let something terrible happen to him, he thought as his other leg was jerked into a different, proper alignment. His CO wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't going to make him better, stronger, more able to serve him . . . his country.
The strong dog like hands squeezed his calves, causing his flesh to bunch up as his coat of dark fur raced down. His calves too began to creak shorter, but with all of the vigorous rubbing they felt good, strong, sleek; muscles becoming dense as his skin became tough and yet hung slightly more loosely than it had previously.
A shiver ran through his body as the grasping paws reached his ankles. Strong, padded thumbs rubbed into them as they grew smaller, into a tight joint, calloused fleshed being replaced with tight sinew and strong sleek muscles. As the hands wrapped around his feet, he felt them squeeze tightly. So firm that he felt his flesh grow thinner, longer, bones snapping painlessly as his feet were pulled out like fleshy taffy, tight skin covered in light bristles of tannish fur as the strange massage lowered to the balls of his feet and his writhing toes.
Swelling, his feet sprouted plump leathery pads as deft paws entwined with his now stubby toes. Soon, each digit formed its own smooth brown pad, puffing out as his nails pulled out into dark claws. Then the strong hands led his feet to the ground, and the sensation was bizarre. It was like he was standing on the tips of his toes, but not uncomfortable. It even made him feel odd, lithe, powerful, proper . . .
There was a loud panting noise in his ears, but it took a split second to realize that his own tongue was lolling out of his mouth. With a wet slurp, he closed his jaws, but it felt wrong somehow. Like his tongue was getting longer, like he should be panting. His master, err, commander didn't seem to mind.
With a sudden electrically cold feeling, he felt a icy nose sniff around his ass. Usually he would feel degraded, but from the commander it was more like a test. He hoped that he had passed as the now familiar hands grasped his hips and began pulling down, apart; rubbing and tugging at his soft coated skin. Soon his hips began to warp and pull apart slightly as he felt the cleft in his ass vanish while his taut ass was exposed to the cool air.
A leathery pad began to rub vigorously over his backside. Up and down. Across his now prominent anus. Down to the soft skin behind his testes. Then all the way up to his lower back. The rubbing against his fur made him feel warm, like he should be embarrassed, but he couldn't quite think of why. His tight flesh twisted as the palm ran over his rear again and again until it encountered odd resistance. Something was pushing out of him, and with two creaking pops a nub of a two toned tail pushed out, pulling his anus tight as it began to wag, earthy brown on top, sandy on the bottom.
His heavy panting stopped abruptly when a hand reached under him and grasped his package. It began to gently knead his balls and half limp shaft together, pushing them upwards, squeezing and teasing them. With firm pressure, he felt his member pushed up against his stomach, and his testes were also pressed gently upwards. His tongue lolled out as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes in pleasure.
When the warm paw pulled back from between his legs, he still felt a pleasant supportive feeling. As he looked back he saw that his balls had pulled up closer to his body, taut scrotum dusted with dark fur and his member was concealed in a thick canine sheath, just like his master's. . . err, CO's. He could even see the properly crimson pointed tip just protruding from its fuzzy sheath, beginning to throb.
He felt warm belly fur press against his side as the Ranking officer began to rub his broad hands up and down his torso, all the way from his waist to his armpits in broad rough strokes. Each strong stroke up his sides made him shiver, and he could feel his body changing; chest becoming narrower with each pass of the deft padded hands, also becoming deeper, dark brown fur sprouting with two patches of lighter brown on his tightening pectorals.
Carefully, strong arms guided him, turning him onto his back, rolling over so that his hind-paws hung in the air, pawing about above him like a playful dogs, like his master wanted them to. The sniffing nose pressed against his crotch and a long slick pink tongue licked across his pink prick making him shiver in excitement as the dog-man let out a throaty growl of approval.
The duo of strong paws ran up his supple, light brown belly to his chest where they rubbed at his still human nipples until they shrank slightly, skin darkening to a chocolate hue. His throat let out an odd sound; high pitched, almost like a dog's whine as the hands slid down below his dog-like nipples and began to pinch and rub the flesh, leaving another set of small vestigial canine teats in their wake.
Again and again the tickling clawed hands kneaded and pinched his flesh into sets of tiny sensitive nubs that ran all the way down to the last small pair that flanked his pulsing sheath. Looking down at himself he could tell that his body was correct; Sleek, strong, and the way his master wanted it to be, his rear canine legs peddling slightly in pleasure.
Strong, fuzzy, padded fingers intertwined with his own as his master's strong black and dark brown furred body straddled him, sitting firmly on his recently formed midriff. He felt the weight of the soft velveteen testes rest on his chest, and a sporadically wagging nub of a tail against his stomach, much like his own wagged against the hard concrete.
Pulling his left arm up, both of the brown pawed hands began to run over it, one entwined with his fingers while the other ran firmly up and down its length, pausing to knead at his elbow. In a sharp jerk his shoulder was pulled into proper alignment, unable to rest at his side, instead standing into the air as it slowly became what it should be.
Light hued inner fur ran up from his arm-pit, switching to the deep hue for his forearm. His fingers began to contract, swelling as they became blunt and stocky, more like his feet were now. He was nervous for some reason, and a small whine escaped from his throat before his master soothed his fears with a deep rumble as he let go of the flat doggy paw and bent down before giving the prostrate man's nose a quick lick. His musky breath blew across his face as his hands switched to kneading and pulling at his other arm.
As his last arm was tugged, his face was bathed by a wet, pink and warm slip of a tongue that lapped across his lips and up his face with feckless strokes. The man could smell an overpowering musk with increasing acuity as his own nose flattened slightly, turning up as the skin darkened into a moist and leathery tip. His other arm creaked along with his jaw as they both lengthened haltingly into the their correct shapes.
The bizarre face-washing stopped, the man's face was dog-like, but only partially, slightly pointed muzzle and thin coat of hair running up to just below his eyes. He felt the weight as his master pushed himself up and off of him, gently helping him to his four new feet. His body felt strong, but oddly weightless, his powerful legs pushing him slightly forwards, his nub of a tail standing at strict attention.
The legs of his master brushed past his flanks as broad paws padded against the cold concrete of the floor. The perfect embodiment of authority walked around him, seeming to appraise his body. A rich masculine scent followed in his wake as he appraised his new recruit, standing with tense anticipation, panting and staring ahead of him.
Looking up at the circling doberman, he realized that he could see the reddish tip of his maleness poking out of his taut sheath. He could smell it too, and his own prick throbbed below him at the deep male scent. Deft hands rest on his shoulders, rubbing slightly as his master lowered himself behind him. The muscled stomach rubbed acrossed his hindquarters, brushing past his tail and exposed anus as he panted in anticipation.
Something warm and hard brushed past his testicles, poking them a few times as the arms tightened their grip and pulled.
The man gasped as the point of the prick pressed against his tight anus, and then with a firm shove, parted the ring of muscle as it slid inside of him. The short prick then slid out, and back in, and out again, spreading a musky clear fluid all over his backside. And as it began to swell longer, out of its dark sheath, the crimson lance buried itself within him, growing longer and longer, each thrust arousing it to glide further inside where he could feel its hot throbbing deep within himself.
His lover's panting head grew closer and closer to the once man's ear, and with a wet slurp, that slick hot canine tongue licked up the back of his neck all the way across his ear. The sniffing panting mouth nibbled around his lobe as it began to stretch out, thinner, taller, covered in dark fuzz with a lighter tip. As the fervored thrusting continued, the mouth lapped at both ears until they stood erect, twitching at the top of the almost canine head, listening to his master's hot panting.
His own member was growing haltingly from his sheath below him, starting to jostle up and down with each ram from behind him. The slick rod pressed against something inside of him that made his mind explode with pleasure, causing a bead of clear pre to form on his growing cock.
With an almost audible pop something thrust inside of him as the jackhammer thrusts became small and fervent. Something was swelling, locking them together, as he could feel the thrusts no longer just pushing in, but also pulling against his straining flesh. Strong hands wrapped around his heaving chest, tensing briefly before his world was inverted.
Pulling up and rolling backwards, his master grabbed him and hauled him up, laying back so that his recruit's back rested on the doberman's firm chest and stomach, hard cock still lodged into his quivering passage. His legs pawed at the air as his master let his chin rest against the back of his charge's head. Looking down at his body, past his rows of new nipples, he could see his changed cock throbbing between his hanging folded legs.
It was nothing like what he expected; Long, bright red tapered length of pink flesh with a violent marbling of veins. Smooth skin glistening moistly as liquid pleasure seeped from the tip onto his belly. But the strangest part was the base. Just outside of his furry sheath rest a large bulge of flesh, massively pulsing as it inflated. That was what was tying them together he thought as his head was snuffled.
He turned his head to the side as he was told to and met his master's black lips in a kiss. Blue eyes deepened into a solid stony brown as his lips turned a deep pitch black, stretching out along with his canine face. As the long tongue swept around his mouth he could feel the strain as his canine teeth lengthened, ridges forming on his palate as his maw became a long muzzle. Wurfing happily into the other's mouth his master completed him, making him the splitting image of canine perfection, still rocking, clenched so tightly in his hot confines.
Paws ran down his chest, sliding past his stomach in a long smooth gliding motion. He could feel his master's heartbeat pound in the chest below him, his own heart raced as the reaching paw grasped around his throbbing member, and he whined in pleasure. The dog-like man rubbed his padded thumb and forefinger over the chiseled tip, slickening them in the warm pre that seeped out of it before sliding a gooey finger all the way down his shaft. When the finger bumped against his swollen knot the man yipped at the intense sensation, making his master grin as his hips still bucked rhythmically into his taut, clenching ass.
The hand-paw curled around his member and pumped down in time with his thrusts, sliding down the marbled member and roughly pushing at the knot at the base, making the man's canine head lap up at the air wildly in pleasure. The dog-man met his flickering tongue with his own, as he pumped in longer harder strokes, but something was missing, he needed something more . . .
His master's other hand was rubbing lazy circles against his belly, and slowly it creeped up, giving his churning testicles a gentle squeeze, fondling them as they tightened in their velveteen sack. With every heart-wrenching thrust his own set of pulsing orbs bumped against them in a moment of warm fleshy contact.
While the other hand kept pumping furiously, sliding over his doggy cock which pulsed and throbbed maddeningly, he teased the set of testes one last time before slinging his hand under the man's engorged member, letting its stem slide through his paw pads, hand rocking with their increasingly manic thrusts as each finger curled up around the bulbous base of the throbbing red cock.
That was it.
He howled in pleasure as the knot at the base of his member was enveloped in a slick pawed fist, the other still sliding down its length. His hips jerked as his head leaned back against the strong neck of his master, his eyes closed, panting wildly as he began to climax. Sticky white ropes of seed shot from his engorged member landing with warm slaps against his chest and muzzle, some landing behind him, dripping down from his master's panting tongue amid his ecstasy.
His anal passage clenched and jerked with enough force to cause the dominant creature under him to clutch and moan. He could feel jerking waves of warmth fill him, pressing into that tender spot that only made him keep coming for longer and longer as the hot wet seed flowed into him, sealed in by the knot lodged tight inside of him. Every throb and spurt of the member inside of him seemed to resonate through his body, echoed my his own spurting penis as paws clenched in time with their jerking releases.
Their bucking hips jerked together in stronger slower motions, howling yips of pleasure becoming further and further interspersed before they both lay panting, one on top of the other, still tied together in mind and body, completely and utterly spent.
* * *
It was quite awhile before the master slid out from him, it made him feel empty, but he helped clean him up, lapping over his furry face. He knew to stay as the doberman ruffled through his clothes to find the aluminum tags that bore his name and rank on them. He then took a collar from the wall and fastened it securely around the former man's neck, letting the tags dangle beneath it.
Suddenly the once man let out a bark of canine laughter, looking up at his puzzled master.
Dog tags.
He could feel the laugh more than hear it as he followed, padding behind his new commander.