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"No, I just wanna go home, Sarah!"

"Come on, Ben," I said, grabbing my younger brother's arm. He could be such a brat sometimes. At least I was still stronger than him, but not for long. He was almost 14, and growing fast. He was still short, but he was filling out like a football player. Or maybe a wrestler. If I weren't in volleyball, I'm sure he could already overpower me, even though I'm four years older.

"A magic shop!?" he whined. "This is stupid."

I pulled him inside anyway, ignoring his dramatic tone. This is why he doesn't have any friends at school anymore. I still don't know what happened to my sweet baby brother, but a year or two ago, he just seemed to snap, and hate anything and everything. Our parents were pissed...his grades dropped and he was getting in fights at school.

"I'm only going to check inside for a minute, Ben," I sighed.

"Whatever," he replied, though he stayed inside the shop as I began to look around. At first I thought he was being bullied at school, and I wanted to help him. But that wasn't it at all. A few months of calls to our parents made it clear...

Ben was the bully.

He was the one picking fights, driving away his friends. He never even spoke to Derek anymore, our next door neighbor. They'd been friends since second grade...until Ben hit puberty. I don't know what Ben said, but the little brat had turned viciously on Derek about four months ago, and they hadn't spoken since.

Whatever, I thought. God, is he rubbing off on me? At least I would be heading off to college in a year. Then he'd be our parents' problem. Until then, I had to walk him home.

The magic shop was pretty silly. A lot of dusty shelves with stupid knickknacks. I was hoping for something that actually worked. I walked straight up to the counter, since I knew Ben would go ballistic if I wasted time. "Hello?" I asked.

What's there to stop me from grabbing something and leaving? I wondered, amazed that no one was at the front desk. But I heard footsteps immediately when I asked.

"Good afternoon," a middle-aged woman, maybe 25, said, wearing a muumuu, her hair up like a librarian, wearing hideous little glasses. Very unflattering...clearly I'd come to the wrong place.

"Do you have any face creams? I want something to look younger...my skin smoother."

"Younger? How old are you?" the woman asked, impolitely.

"Seventeen."

She shook her head, but pointed toward the front of the store. Together, we walked to a shelf with all sorts of 'magical' beauty creams, bumping into Ben on the way over. I just know he intentionally shoved me, but I wasn't about to make a scene in the middle of the magic shop.

Madam Ruth (she introduced herself shortly into the conversation) explained the purpose of all the creams, but I had to stop her when she said that "Beauty Cream #8" would change your features to match whatever movie star you were thinking about when you apply it.

"Bullshit," I said. "I'm not going to waste my money on 'snake oil'. C'mon Ben, we're leaving."

Madam Ruth sighed, but didn't try to stop me. She just said, "Thank you...please come again."

I rolled my eyes. I just wanted something that would actually work. I thought the 'magic' claim was exaggeration, not fraud. I held the door open for Ben, and for some reason, he was grinning ear to ear.

* * * * *

I slammed the door shut so that Sarah wouldn't see or hear what I was doing. That nosy cunt!

I flipped open my laptop, reflexively opening up a video of two chicks going at it. I wasn't really paying attention this time, though. Instead, I pulled out a small bottle, and a piece of paper I'd stolen from the stupid-ass magic shop.

"That shopkeeper is fucking blind," I said to myself, sure that Sarah wouldn't overhear me when I was in my room with music playing. My sister was such a bitch. But at least it wouldn't matter long. She'd be off to college and the whole fucking house would be in my control. Our parents are as retarded as Madam Ruth.

Neither had seen me sneak downstairs behind the counter. There were old workbenches down there, and a little bottle with a handwritten piece of paper beside it. I took both immediately. Ugly bitch doesn't deserve to keep her things if she's that blind.

I was up and out of there before Sarah finally realized the old broad was a crackpot, the bottle tucked neatly away. I held it in my hands now, watching the thin bits of sunlight flicker off the glass. It was corked, and the inside looked like water. Probably was water too. Magic is such a scam.

I unfolded the paper. On one side, in big, block letters, it said, "NOT FOR SALE." Then, in cursive that took me a minute to puzzle out, it said, "Priscilla, this means you."

Flipping it over, I read in the same hand-writing:

Love Potion #10 Notes: Adjustments must be made before sale. Too much wisproot and wolfsbane allows the potion to act on people against their will. I suspected extra magnesium would counteract; instead, it made the effects linger indefinitely. Perhaps human hair or skin cells might limit possible targets? The accidental success of LP#9 makes me wonder if dumping the amarant would create a true 'transformation potion', without the...unfortunate side-effects.

Summary of effect: Ingest a small amount. Upon observation of next living creature, regardless of gender/species, subject will transform into the most appropriate form and appearance to begin a romantic relationship. (Animals apparently have a single-minded view of 'romance'.) To avoid misuse, ensure that the first living creature seen is the intended target.

How weird. The potion had to be a scam, but these notes weren't advertisements or anything. These were written by the creator of the potion, and treating it all seriously. Perhaps the old nutter really believed it would work!

My mind kept dwelling on one, peculiar sentence: Animals apparently have a very single-minded view of 'romance'.

I laughed. Immediately I thought of Derek. That fucking dog-fucker. Everyone in school knew Derek fucked dogs except Derek. Rumors were so powerful. But if this potion worked like it said it did, then he really would be a dog-fucker.

Worth a shot, I figured.

* * * * *

"Derek, it's your turn to let the dogs out," Zack yelled from the living room, where he was playing Assassin's Creed 3.

I sighed. He was right, technically. I yelled back, "But I covered for you yesterday..."

"Oh yah. I'll do it after this mission..."

My twelve-year-old brother didn't tend to think things through. He never stopped after 'one more mission'. Sure, he'd have to clean up with the dogs peed on the floor, but I'd have to mix up the Oxyclean. My parents didn't want Zack messing around with that stuff.

Fine, I thought. I went to the door, and suddenly the sleeping German Shepherds were up and bouncing around, tails wagging furiously. Pancakes, smaller and more athletic, leapt at the door so frantically he almost fell over. Beefstick was larger and stronger, his gruff, low bark enough to show his impatience.

Yeah, I know. Pancakes and Beefstick? Don't look at me. Our parents let Zack name them. Five years ago, when he was seven. He'd immediately blurted out his two favorite foods, but Dad vetoed "Pizza". But his third favorite food, beefsticks; that was okay? Not even a day had passed before my best friend (at the time), Ben, had made a dick joke.

He wasn't the only one to make jokes, either. My parents got the dogs because Dad wanted to go into amateur dog-breeding for the police force. He was an officer himself, not satisfied with the stock the precinct was getting. Not wanting to deal with puppies, he found the best, male dogs he could get. Sometimes they'd take the dogs out to stud...sometimes the bitches would be delivered to our backyard.

As a growing pre-teen, you cannot imagine the embarrassment I suffered when the breeding was in my own backyard. Especially when they wanted Beefstick. The larger German Shepherd was the choice pick for guard dogs and drug-sniffers, and the men who wanted those things always seemed a lot more...vulgar. They seemed to delight in referring to 'his beefstick' and making me blush. And then Ben would give me shit for days, even though he always seemed to watch the breedings from his backyard. Eventually I started to hide in my room when we had 'guests' over.

Ben never let it drop, but for the week of the breeding he was absolutely the worst. "Watched another quick porking?" he'd say. Or, "Bet you wish you were that bitch, gaywad." His language would have gotten him smacked in my house, but from what I saw, even at ten he talked that way around his own parents. I laughed politely, but it never seemed that funny. Besides, he was the one that always watched the breedings.

Still, I thought it was friendly ribbing...until the rumors at school started to fly. No one really knew my parents were dog-breeders until that fateful week in seventh grade. Then, suddenly everyone seemed to know we had two, intact German Shepherds. Their names, apparently, were Beefstick and "Humper". And, to my surprise, I apparently liked getting fucked by them.

"Where did you hear that?" I had asked, face red.

"Ohhhh! He's not denying it!" they had replied.

Eventually, they did tell me, though. Ben. My own friend! He didn't deny saying it when I confronted him in the hallway, but acted like what he'd said was still true! That's when my name around school changed from "Derek" to "dog-fucker." At least when a teacher wasn't around. Then, the kids liked to make barking sounds while giggling to each other. I just blushed and tried to ignore them like my parents said, but two years had passed and the mocking hadn't stopped.

I still had friends, at least, though definitely not Ben. The nerds and outcasts picked me up easily enough, and I'd probably have ended up with them by high school anyway. I did far too well in school and far too badly in sports to be a jock. Unlike Zack. He was in basketball and he was already a black belt in Taekwondo.

Sometimes I really wished Dad hadn't gotten into dog-breeding. But I knew better than to blame him, or the dogs. It was Ben's fault, and my former friend didn't even seem to regret what he'd done, even though he didn't seem to have any friends, anymore. He was always around, like a nagging fly, and the other kids all laughed when he swore and mocked other students, but I never saw him hang out with anyone anymore. I don't know what happened to him...but, despite myself, in some ways, I pitied him.

I opened the door, and the dogs burst through into the yard. It was about 10 square feet, with a tall, wooden fence around three of the sides. The fourth side, shared with Ben's yard, was only four feet tall, and had a chain-link gate, installed shortly after we first moved into the neighborhood, and it was clear that Ben and I had hit it off. We were friends from first grade, all the way to seventh. I walked outside, taking a deep breath as Pancakes and Beefstick did their business.

And...there was Ben, standing at the fence. He must have come outside when I did. I rolled my eyes, waiting for him to say something like, "Don't mind me, go ahead and let them fuck you!"

Today, however, he didn't say that. He didn't even have his trademark sneer on his face. When I looked at him, he looked away, and said, "Hey, Derek..."

I paused, then realized my mouth was hanging open. "What?"

"Look," he said, meeting my eyes. What was that expression? "I just wanted to say...I'm sorry."

BULL...SHIT. He does not get to ruin my life for two years and then apologize and expect me to forgive him. "Well, great, Ben. Thanks so much. Go to hell."

Ben cringed. I've never seen him cringe before. What was his game? He said, "Yeah, I know. I don't expect you to forgive me. I was awful...I know that now. Here," he said, offering a small bottle.

I looked it over. It was a twelve-ounce bottle of Gatorade Ice. I blinked, taking it purely from surprise. "What?"

"Just...you know, a peace offering."

A bottle of gatorade. One of the little ones. To repay me for making the whole school call me "dog-fucker" to my face. I laughed, not knowing what else to do. What on Earth?

Ben said, "Sorry, again," turning and walking back to his house.

I stood there, stunned, as the door closed and I was left alone. Could this be real? Was he really trying to apologize by giving me a seventy cent bottle of...watermelon flavored Gatorade? Ben had always been pretty strange. I wouldn't put it past him.

I sighed, realizing I'd been holding my breath.

I patted Pancakes on the head, and he took off in circles around the yard, hoping I would chase him. I chuckled and said, "It's too hot for that."

Beefstick, however, was more than happy to sit next to me as ran my fingers through the thick fur around his neck. He always made me think of those huge bodybuilders in the magazines at the grocery store, with necks larger than their heads. Finding a collar for him had taken multiple tries; he had a bad habit of pulling backwards away from me when walking, and the first two collars had slipped right off. The third collar was just barely too tight. Fourth time was a charm.

I walked over to the dog toy bucket to get a ball for Pancakes, who was still shooting around the yard like a maniac. Did Zack forget to walk the dogs before school? I reached in, past the unused collars, and grabbed a nice, soft, plastic ball. Suddenly, both dog's eyes were glued to my hand, watching its every motion.

With a smile, I threw the ball straight between the two German Shepherds. Pancakes skittered across the ground, getting there first, but Beefstick barrelled into him, and the dogs forgot all about me. Pancakes darted away with the ball, chased by the larger, slower dog. I leaned against the fence to watch as the dogs exercised each other.

A drop of sweat hit my eyebrow, and I swiped it away. Of course, it was only 3:30. Mr. Bennett said it was hottest after noon, because the sun's rays had more time to heat everything up. Made sense to me. The gatorade, however, was cold.

Why not? I wondered. The drink may be a weird, insufficient apology, but it was a cold drink on a hot day. I twisted off the cap, which spun off after a satisfying amount of resistance. I put it to my lips, the sweet, cold liquid pouring into me.

Pretty good flavor, actually. I normally only liked orange-flavored drinks, but this was a good approximation of watermelon. It even had a citrusy aftertaste. Oof... It also had a bitter one. I quickly took another drink to replace the bitterness with the sweet corn syrup.

Except for the weird aftertaste, it was a very satisfying drink. I gulped down the twelve ounces in just four drinks, tossing the bottle into our recycling bin. Sure enough, as soon as my hand moved to throw the bottle, Pancakes was there. He abandoned the ball to Beefstick, hoping to jump and grab the plastic container before it was gone. He was fast, that's true, but he missed.

I laughed, petting the disappointed dog. "Good hustle!" I praised, using the same, oft-repeated phrase Mrs. Tiller yelled at us in gym class. Pancakes just cocked his head, staring at me with his dark, black eyes.

That's when I felt it.

It started with an itch, but the rash spread quickly. One minute I was scratching my arm absent-mindedly, the next I was trying to scratch more itches than I had hands for.

"What the?" I asked out loud, looking down at my arms. My arms were hairier than ever. Was I just noticing that? Was I going through puberty, or what? My voice had already changed... Then I caught the motion. The hair was growing...even as I watched! My blonde hair grew thicker, longer, and darker, taking on a bright, brown color.

That wasn't the only thing happening. My butt suddenly hurt...bad. "Owwww!" I said reflexively, looking around, frantically for help. When I glance into Ben's yard, he was at the door, his face white as he walked forward. "Help me!" I cried, holding out a hand toward the fourteen-year-old. The hair on the back of my hand grew, covering even my fingers.

Ben didn't say anything, just walked, stunned, to the fence. I had to do something about my butt. The pain was getting worse. Desperately, my hands went to the button on my jeans. Unbuttoning it helped, but not enough. Ben was watching, but I didn't care. The pain was too much! I slid my pants and underpants off in one motion, right past my shoes, to my great relief.

The pain was gone! I twisted to look over my shoulder at the cause, and nearly yelped in surprise. I...had a tail! It was bushy, and mostly the same golden brown as the rest of the hair. Or should I say 'fur'? My neck was sprouting as well. I'd tried to grow a beard a couple weeks back with no success, but this was ridiculous! My entire face was sprouting dark, black fur!

Ben finally spoke, seeming awestruck. "It really worked!"

"Ben, what is happening to me!" I shrieked, my voice cracking. I felt something really weird happening, a tingling down near my belly button. Oh no! My eyes shot to my crotch, as did Ben's.

I didn't have time to worry about my former friend seeing me naked. The fur had stopped, at least, before covering my dick. But that just made it all the easier to see the soft, pink flesh changing before our eyes. I shrunk, noticeably, a strange crease appearing right down the middle. My balls were shriveling up and disappearing, though it felt more like that were sliding inside me.

Ben said, "Oh, my god."

"Ben..." I pleaded, and I didn't have to try to show the anguish on my face. I was covered in the strange fur now, some of it black, like my face. My hands started to feel clumsy, and I realized that beneath all that fur, my fingers were shrinking. My stomach began to tighten. But I didn't care so much about that. My eyes were stuck on my penis... No, my vagina.

There, nestled in light, brown fur, stood a puffy, tri-fold vulva, just like a dog. I was turning into a dog. A bitch.

My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto all fours next to the fence. "Ben!" I yelled again, even as my nose started to stretch out in front of my eyes. I looked up at him. Was...was he smiling? Couldn't he see what was happening to me!? I was on all fours, wearing only my t-shirt, socks, and shoes. In the sheer ridiculousness of what was happening, I thought, Well, at least I can still get served at McDonald's in this outfit.

That's when I felt it. Something wet and slippery between my legs. I gasped, looking over my shoulder, to see Pancakes, his snout up between my legs, lapping eagerly at my new equipment. I'd seen him do that plenty of times before, but I wasn't a dog! My arms and legs were still human, give or take. Not for long, I suspected.

Ben started laughing.

Laughing.

"It really worked!" he said again. "Now be a good girl and let 'Humper' do his thing."

This...was...his...doing!? I gasped. The gatorade! It was the only explanation that made any sense. He'd put something in it, a potion or something. But magic isn't real! Except...I have pretty good evidence to the contrary.

Pancakes didn't care about my inner monologue. He didn't care that I didn't look exactly like a dog, either, or that I was wearing clothing. He lapped eagerly at my puffy mound, letting his tongue slip inside. Beefstick was coming over too, looking more tentative about my odd behavior.

I yelped. His huge, wet tongue felt...really good, actually. I whimpered and spread my back legs, trembling as he shoved his tongue deeper. Oh, god, yes! I thought. "Oh, god, no!" I yelped, looking up at the chuckling Ben. What was I doing? I needed help, fast, and it was clear that that motherfucker wasn't going to do anything. I was losing precious time letting Pancakes slurp at me. Already I could feel my legs shifting and changing, my nose moving farther and farther away from my eyes.

"Zack!!!!" I screamed, knowing that he'd hear me. The game room wasn't very far from the backyard sunroom, and he didn't bother wearing headphones when our parents were still at work. Admittedly, I didn't want my younger brother to see me, halfway a bitch, getting eaten out by Pancakes. But it was far better than the alternative.

Only...the sound that came out was more like, "Zzzark!" It sounded almost like a bark. I tried again. "Bark!"

I'd lost my voice. Suddenly, it dawned on me just how much trouble I was in. If I fully transformed, what could I do? Would my brain even remain intact? My hands, my voice, and possibly even my mind were all at risk - everything that made me human. If Zack didn't see me changing, no one but Ben would know what had happened!

Turning, I started barking frantically at the house, getting a temporary reprieve from Pancakes' tongue. He followed along behind me, however, quickly refilling me. I ignored his tongue; I ignored that Ben could now see, at a three-quarters view, my own dog licking my newfound pussy. All that mattered was getting Zack outside.

Bark! Bark! Awoooo!

He'd hear it for sure, but that was no guarantee he would come. He was supposed to come shut the dogs up when they barked too much. But he was supposed to walk the dogs in the morning, and he was supposed to let the dogs out every other afternoon. There were lots of "supposed to"s that seemed to take a backseat to Assassin's Creed 3.

I tried to ignore the deep licks violating my virgin hole, but it just felt so good. I kept barking, but I felt like I had no control over my hindquarters, my tail lifted to the side for Pancakes. It was just like the dozens and dozens of times I'd seen Pancakes or Beefstick in action...which meant...

I am in heat.

I should have realized as soon as Pancakes showed his interest. Actually, as soon as my puffy, swollen vulva appeared between my legs. I'd seen so many bitches getting bred, but I never thought I would be one, whimpering in pleasure. Was I losing my mind? Even the most skittish, frightened bitches gave in to the dogs eventually. Please...not my mind. Hands, voice; anything but that.

It didn't look good. I'd stopped barking, spreading my legs wider as I started instinctively to hump up and down against his tongue, much to Ben's delight. I didn't want Pancakes to stop. How can I be enjoying this!

Ben laughed, "Told you you were a dog-fucker."

Dog-fucker. At this rate, he was right. Pancakes wouldn't stop until he'd had me. I tried to will myself to run away, as I'd seen other bitches do, but I couldn't. That tongue. I couldn't leave it - I didn't want to. I have less willpower than some dogs, I realized.

Pancakes pulled his tongue free, and I could move again! He tried to jump onto my back, but I was too quick, leaping forward. My feet slipped right out of my shoes, still covered in white socks. It was done - I was a full dog, a perfect replica of a German Shepherd, just a touch smaller than Pancakes himself. I didn't make it far before the socks and shirt constrained my movement so much that Pancakes caught up.

He knew just what to do, jumping onto my back and wrapping his paws firmly around my slender hips. I yipped, looking over my shoulder in horror. There, between his legs, his red tip was peeking out, aimed straight for my pussy, and still my tail dangled off, out of the way.

Not like this! I was a virgin in so many ways I almost laughed. I'd never had sex, never seen a girl naked, never made out, never had a girlfriend (obviously, considering the rumors), never been kissed. Hell, the internet filters at home meant I'd never even seen any porn. Ironically, the closest I'd come to sex before was watching Pancakes and Beefstick in action.

Now I'll see that first hand.

Ben was watching, enthralled as he watched me getting mounted, still in socks and a t-shirt. "Good girl, Slutpuppy! Make me some puppies, okay?"

Something about the way he said "Slutpuppy" made it sound like a name. I couldn't really have puppies, could I? Surely the potion would wear off. It had to be like prescription drugs, right? Mr. Carver said every drug wore off after a short time, as the body processed it. What am I thinking? Why should science have any impact on magic?

I whimpered, but even if I could have struggled, I knew I wouldn't break Pancakes' powerful grip. None of the other bitches ever had. Pancakes had an intense expression of concentration as he lined up his glistening tip. This was it. I set my legs apart, bracing myself, vulva bouncing up and down. Blood rushed to my face, but despite my humiliation, I couldn't look away from his approaching cock.

Dog-fucker, indeed.

I could feel the heat of his loins against my mound before I felt contact. I whimpered, jaw dropping as the slimy tip poked into my soft flesh. Pancakes resting his bulging tip against the little, protruding nub at the base of my y-shaped folds until he was certain his aim was true, and then leapt forward, plunging up and into me.

Schlorp! I yelped as Pancakes penetrated, his full, thick cock ramming deep as his furry sheath collided with my outer lips. The gate creaked, and I saw Ben walk into the yard, chuckling, kneeling down to watch up close. I was mortified. How could that monster do this to me, and then let this happen? Still, I was helpless to resist as Pancakes filled me up, tugging backward only to pound me again.

His wet cock sliding inside of my rubbed up against something that drove me wild. The sheer joy that pulsed through my body was impossible to resist, and, with Ben watching only a foot away, I began to hump back eagerly against Pancakes, moaning as my own dog claimed my virginity.

Oh god...he's in me! He rolled his hips against me, grunting as I'd heard him do dozens of times before. He hammered into me like my spreading folds were a nail that only he could drive, though Beefstick was watching intently on the other side from Ben. Normally, of course, we kept the other dog in the house while a breeding was going on, but Beefstick didn't challenge for ownership.

No, everyone in the yard knew that I was Pancakes', at least for now. Ben marvelled at the repetitive schlorps of our hips colliding, laughing as I whimpered and humped. "Derek, are you even still in there?" he asked, a smirk rising from the corner of his mouth. "You're really liking this!"

I couldn't answer him, but I knew the answer. If I'd completely lost myself, I wouldn't feel so dirty, so spoiled. I had a mix of relief and horror as I realized that I would retain my mind, only to be helpless to resist Ben's whims. At least until the magic wore off!

Pancakes let his tongue dangle from his mouth, slobbering on the back of my neck as he thrust contentedly. He grunted and groaned, just doing what came naturally for him. Presented with a bitch in heat, of course he would 'rise' to the occasion. He couldn't know that I was Derek, that I was burning with humiliation.

Ben put one hand on my rump, and one on Pancakes' knee, pulling us apart so he could see. The German Shepherd on my back was used to being handled by humans, and didn't object. Faster and faster he violated me, driving deep into my warm, clenching vagine. Every inch of my insides twitched and trembled with unending pleasure, turning my whimpers into one, pathetic, drawn-out whine. All I could do was pant deperately for breath, tensing my front legs to push back against his thrusts.

And all the while, the true cause of all my problems watched from the sidelines, the boy's jaw gaping as he watched my puffy folds spread wetly apart again and again for Pancakes' full, throbbing cock. Ben said, "Shit, he's getting bigger!"

I knew what that meant, and I could feel the growing knot as it squeezed painfully between my lips. But even now, as the point of no-return grew ever nearer, all I could do was whine and hump my hips. My entire world seemed to have shrunk to a single foot: my clenching cunt, and the massive dick that ravished it. Why does it have to feel so good!? I could feel his tip squishing up inside of me, Pancakes expertly hilting himself into me, his bitch, to wait for his knot to swell.

"Fucking hell," Ben said, as I felt the two glands swelling inside me, stretching my vulva to gross lengths. I'd see it before, all the other bitches bulging lewdly as they got tied. Pancakes inflated them (and me) until their pussies looked more like baseballs. Beefstick, on the other hand, was more like a softball. Ben had never seen a breeding up close before, judging by the impressed admiration he offered Pancakes.

My mound ached, stretched to its limit. The tight folds pulled him even closer, dragging him deeper into my burning cunt. I squeezed and pumped around him, my groans joining his. If I hadn't lost hope when my voice had turned to pathetic barks and whimpers, I knew to give up hope now. Tied deep with Pancakes, I was his until he was finished with me.

"C'mon boy, fill her up!" Ben said, encouragingly.

Encouragement he didn't need. I heard the oncoming flood before I felt it, a loud splurt! filling my ears. His cock twitched and jumped inside of me, spewing seed that splattered against my innermost walls. He thrust one last time, digging deep, his paw trembling with the effort of holding me beneath him. Tied as he was, I could feel his pulsing balls where they pressed up between my thighs, pumping ounce after ounce into my virgin womb.

My whines turned to fast, uncontrollable yips as I lost control. Pancakes' knot was throbbing inside me, burrowed up against what seemed to be the epicenter of my pleasure. My measured humping gave way to frantic flailing as I squirmed beneath him, feeling his hot breath wash over the back of my head. My mouth gaped, tongue spilling out as I drooled uncontrollably.

Oh, god, Pancakes! I yelped and moaned, rocking my hips as the German Shepherd began short, fast thrusts, each ending with another loud splurt. I clenched around his humongous cock, and for that brief moment, there was nothing I wanted in the world more than to milk him of every last drop. Waves of bubbling cum drained into me, pooling in the bottom of my womb. I jumped and wiggled beneath him, feeling the pool slosh around, absently wondering how I could possibly be enjoying this.

Everything felt so different from when I'd masturbated. There, I'd been in control. Here, I was subject to his every whim. Pancakes decided when to lick me, when to mount me. Pancakes chose when I was ready for him. I'd had literally no say in the matter. All the decisions that had led to this blissful moment, panting beneath him, had been Pancakes' to make. I felt a strange euphoria in submitting to my pet dog.

I couldn't fault his choices either, as predictable as they were. I whined and moaned until my voice was hoarse, Pancakes squeezing load after load into my burning womb. If this is what sex feels like...I want more!

Or so I thought at the time. As with all the other bitches, Pancakes groaned and swiveled off of my back, turning around and tugging roughly on his thick, embedded knot. He still panted, balls churning, but the fog of intense pleasure wafting in my brain began to clear up. It felt like I was outside in the winter, and suddenly took off my winter coat. One second I was whining for more, and the next...

A pleasant feeling radiated through my body, but the good was no match for the bad. As though I could think clearly, I realized the full extent of what had just happened. I was a female dog! Pancakes had raped me, taken my virginity, and filled me up, while I humped and begged for it! And all the while, the colossal dick that had caused the whole thing had watched, laughing!

My cheeks burned, and I looked away from Ben, horrified that I stood there, my false, tender vulva bulging grossly around Pancakes' cock. I flattened my ears instinctively, but I couldn't tuck my tail between my legs while the German Shepherd was still tied deep. My canine eyes couldn't produce tears...or I would have been bawling. What had happened to me? Would I ever change back? What would Ben do now?

He said, "You're really not in there, anymore, are you Derek? You're just a dumb dog." curiously, looking me over.

I looked him in the eyes. What would he do if he thought I was gone? What if he knew I wasn't? Nervously, I shook my head back and forth, a very human gesture.

"You're not!?" he cried, suddenly delighted. "You enjoyed getting fucked that much? Well, I guess you're going to enjoy your new life," he laughed.

I stared at him, my jaw dropped. He couldn't mean to keep me like this! Not even Ben was that much of a monster.

Ben noted my shock, and smirked, "Hey, don't look at me, 'Slutpuppy'. I didn't think it would actually work! But I couldn't change you back if I wanted to - it's permanent!"

I whimpered, staring at the young teenager in disbelief.

"Read for yourself," he said, shrugging, tossing a small piece of paper on the ground in front of me.

Notes: Adjustments must be made before sale. Too much wisproot and wolfsbane allows the potion to act on people against their will. I suspected extra magnesium would counteract; instead, it made the effects linger indefinitely.

The effects linger indefinitely.

Indefinitely.

I was speechless, for more than one reason. I stood stunned, reading the full note twice over, ignoring Ben as he took out his pocketknife, slicing my T-shirt and pulling it off, along with the socks. I didn't see at the time, but he must have taken the clothing and tossed it into his yard; the next thing I knew, Ben had taken the smallest extra collar from the toy-bin and clasped it around my neck.

He grabbed the note back and said, "Sorry, Slutpuppy. Looks like you're my responsibility now. You and your puppies."

I whined desperately at him. How could he have tested something like that on a real person? His apologies were empty, mocking laughter at what had happened to me. What sort of monster was he? I couldn't just...be a dog for the rest of my life. I couldn't! There must be some mistake, some magic fix, an antidote...anything! But even if there were, would Ben bother to find out? This can't be happening!

Maybe I wasn't giving Ben enough credit. He couldn't have really believed the potion would work, and he wouldn't want to have to take care of me for the rest of his life...or, I guess, the rest of mine... Surely he'd return to wherever he bought the thing and ask for help. Maybe accidentally transforming his childhood best friend was just the kick in the butt the teenager needed to change courses from delinquent to human being.

Schlurp, schlurp, schlurp! I winced, suddenly reminded that Pancakes was still tied inside of me as he began to tug sharply. Groaning, I dug my claws into the grass, pulling too. I wanted him out of me even more than he did. Ben just watched, smiling.

After the seventh tug, Pancakes ripped free, my pussy squelching closed, a thin dribble of white dog seed spilling down my thighs. I shivered, once again feeling dirty and defiled. I was a fourteen-year-old boy, not just another of Pancakes' bitches to service.

Strong hands grabbed my collar, pulling me forward. My eyes flashed in anger at Ben, but he held up a single finger in warning, shaking it back and forth. "Now, now, Slutpuppy. No biting, or I'll find a dog pound that takes care of dangerous animals."

I growled, but that was all. He was right, of course; animal control wouldn't blink twice at taking care of a violent dog. I let him run his hands through the fur on my neck, testing the collar to make sure it fit. My face was on fire, but at least Ben couldn't see my blush beneath my thick fur. I looked him straight in the eyes, and I could help but whine, begging him to help me. He didn't seem to care, suddenly looking past me and smiling.

"Now be a good girl..."

What was he looking at? I turned my head around, surprised at how flexible my neck was, and dropped my jaw in shock. Beefstick. The stocky, muscular German Shepherd was standing right behind me, sniffing at my leaking pussy. Beneath him, I could see his boner poking out.

Not again!

Immediately, I leapt to get away, but Ben was larger and stronger than me. His grip on my collar remained firm, holding me in place. He was going to make me take Beefstick as well! I thrashed uselessly, but I didn't have to entertain my hope of escape for long. Beefstick wasn't the sort of dog who wasted time on formalities. He didn't even sniff me a second time before he jumped up on my back, his weight pressing down on my sore hind legs.

With Beefstick's front legs wrapped around my waist, Ben let go, backing up to watch. We both knew there was no way I could escape the big dog until he was done with me. Whining, I spread my back legs and lifted my tail, my mound bouncing up and down in anticipation. There was no use in resisting; better just to get it over with. As much as I hated to admit it, Pancakes had blown my mind. How could this be any worse?

"Good girl," Ben said again, as Beefstick humped tentatively, his hot tip searching for its target. The teenager let his hand drift to his crotch, cupping himself. Oh, god, he's getting off to this!

Soon enough, so would I.

His tip brushed up against my tender flesh, and just like that, he rammed his hips forward, hilting his whole, humongous cock into my pre-lubricated passage. I yelped! He was far bigger than Pancakes, with the exception of his knot, which had not yet swelled. But I knew from experience that that too was larger. Beefstick pumped frantically, his huge, throbbing erection plumbing my deepest depths. After Pancakes, I was far wetter, so Beefstick's thrusts echoed with lewd splashing and sloshing.

A low, rumbling growl escaped his throat as he pulled me back, again and again, onto his spear. My vagina was stretched to its limit around his swollen dick, his bony tip thumping repeatedly against my sore, innermost wall. My whole body was on fire, and half of that sensation was pain. I knew now why my parents wouldn't put Beefstick out to stud with any bitch that weighed 60 pounds or less! I was probably above that limit, but not by much.

What will happen when his knot swells?

"Derek, Mom and Dad are home!"

Six pairs of eyes went straight to the house, as Ben, Pancakes, and I saw Zack opening the backdoor. Beefstick was too preoccupied to look.

"Hey!" Zack cried, as he saw what was going on in the yard. He didn't know it was me; he couldn't know. But still, I swear I could feel his eyes on me. My twelve-year-old brother was watching me get reamed by our dog. I didn't think it was physically possible to get MORE embarrassed!

Ben was quick with a story. Or maybe he'd planned it? Either way, he said, "Hey, Zack!" as if grateful for his help. "My new dog snuck into your yard while I wasn't looking!"

Zack looked around. "Where's Derek?" he asked.

Right here, I thought miserably, getting pounded even while my brother talked to Ben.

Ben just shrugged. "I don't know - haven't seen him all day."

Zack looked confused, but he just said, "I'll get Mom and Dad."

No! I could only think of one thing worse than having my parents watch me take my second dog of the day, and that involved changing permanently into a bitch. I barked at Zack, but of course he still left. Why couldn't he just go back inside, let Beefstick finish with me, and leave our parents none-the-wiser?

While Zack was telling our parents, Beefstick was doing his duty. He plunged into me, over and over, making me yip and squeal. His continuous, lowgrowl was only punctuated by repeated grunts each time he humped. I whined, beginning to feel his knot swell. I swear, he must have only been a third of his full size, but already his backward thrusts tugged painfully at my lips.

Dad charged out onto the lawn, huffing and puffing, Mom on his heels. He immediately took charge, telling Mom, "Get Pancakes back inside." She did so immediately.

Then, he turned on Ben, and I swear, even that bully wilted in front of my dad. "What is going on? We don't authorize this breeding!"

Ben's jaw dropped, and he said, "It's...It's Tinkerbell. Somehow she got into your yard when I wasn't looking and -"

Tinkerbell??

"Fuck," Dad said, with emphasis. He only swore in the most desperate circumstances. A second later, my father was crouched beside me, one hand on my rump, the other pulling Beefcakes away as best he could. As strong as Dad was, he could only pull us a couple inches apart before the dog's still-swelling bulge got stuck. Dad was looking there, at my inflated vulva, when he said, "It's too late; they're already tied."

Dad leaned forward, running his hands over my head and neck in what he probably thought was a comforting gesture. He spoke to me, "It's okay, girl. You're doing great. Everything will be okay, girl."

My father petting me and calling me 'girl' while I was getting pounded was anything but comforting!

Ben just smiled, which didn't go over that well with my father. Dad rounded on him, voice raised and forceful. "You've got to be careful with a bitch in heat, Ben! There's nothing I can do now, but there's a good chance she's pregnant. Is Tinkerbell even registered with the AKS?"

"The what?"

They argued about me, almost oblivious that I was standing right between them, putting out for Beefstick. Honestly, I was relieved that Dad wasn't watching me anymore, though I saw Mom and Zack watching from the door. His knot was full-size by now; ithad to be. Yet still I felt him growing, until my pussy threatened to tear. The discomfort was really nothing compared to the huge, bulbous knot trembling up against my clit. I blushed, gently rocking my hips, wishing I could just let go and enjoy it, without the audience. Why can't I just get fucked in peace!?

"The American Kennel Society. God, do you even know her dam?" Ben had a pretty good idea who my mother was. Dad continued, "You're going to want to get her spayed as soon as possible, Ben."

What!?

Ben seemed to get tired of Dad's harsh tone. Like the belligerent teenager he was, he said, "Hey, this isn't my fault! You say I should be careful, but you left your dogs outside alone!"

Dad looked around the yard, as if suddenly realizing something. He said, "Where's Derek? He's supposed to be watching them..."

I'm doing more than watching them, Dad.

Ben says, "How should I know?"

Dad frowned. "Well, you're right about that. He's going to get an earful when he gets back, I promise you that."

Ben just smiled. "Don't worry, I'll make sure to spay her."

He wouldn't really, would he? Did it even matter? I was going to be a bitch for the rest of my life!

Dad, however, seemed satisfied, nodding. "She's a pretty healthy looking bitch." My father was supposed to be proud of my grades in school, not the luster of my coat and my strong haunches! "If you can get Tinkerbell registered and her line doesn't have health problems, you might want to keep her intact. Good puppies could really help the breed."

Ben and Dad looked down at me, admiring me. I was dying inside. My whole family was watching me panting and humping against Beefstick, and only Ben knew the truth. His endless smirk burned in my skull.

Still, as humiliated as I was, my hindquarters had a different view. Beefstick had finally stopped swelling, making me wince. I knew I'd be bulging out like a softball, but at least the others couldn't see it, yet. Tied so deep, his every thrust sent his hefty balls slapping up against my thighs, until finally, as everyone watched, Beefstick launched himself forward and erupted inside me.

Splurt!

His gigantic cock barely fit inside me, his knot throbbing just inside my trembling lips. Just like with Pancakes, I was helpless to resist the waves of pleasure that racked my small body. In front of everybody, I whined and moaned, clenching down around him and humping madly to milk him of his seed. Our tongues dangled out, gasping for breath as drool spilled down. Again and again he pounded forward, releasing loud, wet spurts into my nubile, fertile womb. Beefstick knew his job well, breeding me eagerly.

"That's it, then," Dad said, having seen enough similar breedings to tell when a stud got his rocks off. There was a sense of finality to his words that pierced my lust-addled mind. My father was only suggesting that the deed was done, and I was pregnant or not. I knew the truth. The real finality had come when my own family couldn't recognize me; when they would just watch as Ben decided to lead me away, to start my new life as Tinkerbell.

Or is it 'Slutpuppy'?

No, I couldn't give in so easily. Maybe some opportunity would arise, and I could do something. The future wasn't predetermined - I could still change it! I just had to keep an eye open for the opportunity.

My newfound optimism was sorely tested a minute later, when everything I'd predicted came true. Zack went back to playing games while Mom started dinner. Dad watched Beefstick tie with me, waiting the full eleven minutes as the dog continued to squeeze loads of cum into me. I yelped when Beefstick finally managed to pull his humongous knot free, his seed spilling out and soiling my rump.

Dad held Beefstick's collar firm, just watching as Ben took mine. Without even realizing it, Dad was giving me up to Ben, the monster who had done this to me. I whimpered at my father, but he only heard the whines of a simple bitch being dragged from her mate.

What will my parents do when I don't come home? How long before they give up the search, unable and unwilling to see that I was just next door, wearing new fur?

"Good girl, Tinkerbell," Ben said, grinning ear to ear. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you."

I shivered, realizing I had my own problems to worry about. What will Ben do with me?