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Seed to Sow

By Ajax B. Coriander

Commission for: Karwood

Edits by Radjin

Leroy shook the hand of the man who had gave him a ride from the train station, and wished him well before he continued his way down the gravelly dirt road they came up on. The young man stood there as the strap of his father's old army canvas bag bore into his slender shoulder. He looked down the long, winding path in front of him, with a sign hanging from the welcoming arch that read "McCory Farms". He took a deep breath, and began to walk forward. As he walked down into that path, he looked at the trees that surrounded the path. The sight of them amazed him. He'd never seen forests like this in Oklahoma, except in photographs. He watched as the wind blew through the branches, making the leaves rustle and the sunlight flicker on the ground in front of him, casting an array of shadows that reminded him of dancers on a movie screen.

Leroy pulled a black and white photo from his pocket and glanced over it. The picture was of a man that looked a lot like himself; he was tall, rather lanky, with slicked-back black hair, and a kind face. The women in the picture also looked a lot happier than Leroy remembered her. Her hair was drawn up into a bun and it didn't have the streaks of grey that it does now. And sitting on the floor in front of them, a young 4 year old Leroy, with a bright smile on his face. It'd be another year before his brother was born, and around then would also be the last time he'd see his father alive. When his brother was still just a bump in his mother's belly, he'd see his dad throw a bag over his shoulder, and promise him he'd be back. He did see his father again as promised, but he was in a pine box.

He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering how he got into this mess. Times were a bit tough after his father had died, but the past few years had been grand. He'd managed to get a job as a butcher, and he had made enough money to support his family and give them a proper place to live. Then it was just one thing after another. First the stock market crashed, and Leroy hadn't thought anything of it at first, but when he began to notice shops start to close all around town he began to get worried. He was doing alright, and the butcher shop was doing okay, but then the black rollers started causing people to flee to the safety of California, his boss being one of them.

He had no choice but to pack up with his mother and brother, and head out west with the rest of them. They spent some time in one of the many Hoovervilles that had popped up like refugee camps for all of the migrating families, but they couldn't stand the animosity that the people in California had towards them. He could still hear their voices in his head, calling him and his family "Dirty Okies". After some time, Leroy managed to get in contact with one of his mother's cousins and they offered to take them in, but they only had room for two. So Leroy had decided to do what was best for his family; he sold off the last of what little valuables they had left, bought 3 train tickets, two were for his mother and brother in the direction of his cousins, and his own heading in the general direction of the only family he might have left, his long lost grandfather, Dacy McCory.

His grandfather and his father, Gerald, had always butted heads, and around the time his father enlisted to join the war his grandfather left, and hadn't been heard of since. Leroy searched for months until he managed to track down an old family friend who told him that the old man had been living on a farm out in North Carolina, and since he was Leroy's last real hope, he packed his dad's old army bag with the last of his worldly possessions and made his way back east. Now there he was, walking down the shaded path on his way to the address the old friend had given him, and as he rounded the last corner he finally saw the farm come into view. The farm was tucked between two rolling hills covered with trees, with a large red barn and an old, flat-faced home with white siding and a large, covered porch that jutted out the front. The fading and chipped paint gave away the house's age, looking to be a relic left over from before america had even gained its independence. Behind the house was a pasture with horses and cattle, to the right was a lush garden with little plots of all different kinds of vegetables, and beyond that, golden fields filled with wheat and rows of corn stalks stretched out into the distance. With a stream that snaked through the property. It really was a beautiful sight.

Leroy smiled, and adjusted the strap on his shoulder. "Maybe this won't be...", he began to say to himself before a tree branch exploded on his left, the unmistakable crack of a rifle making him yell out in fright and dive to the ground, throwing his hands over his head. "Woah! Don't shoot!" He shouted, as the scent of gunpowder wafted into the air.

"Ya got five seconds to get off my land, or else the next one hits you right between the eyes. I never missed a man when I was in the Army and I ain't about to now." The distinct double click of a lever-action rifle being reloaded rang in his ears.

"Wait! Wait!" Leroy shouted as he tried to scramble to his feet, "I'm your grandson!"

"I ain't got no grandkids, boy! I should shoot ya just for lyin'." The old man growled as he continued to leer down the sights of his rifle.

"Honest, I am! I'm Gerald's boy, Leroy!" Leroy shouted, his hands lifted as he finally got a good look at the old man in front of him. Dacy had a short white beard with an equally white head of hair to match. He wore on a pair of well-worn, dirt-stained blue overalls that had been patched more than a few times with what looked like any kind of cloth he could manage to find. He had on a red flannel shirt with the arms rolled up near to his shoulders, loosely buttoned to the point where he may as well not have bothered at all. And although he had the thickness around the middle that comes with age, he still looked strong enough that he could probably pick Leroy up with one arm without so much as a grunt.

The old man lowered his rifle a little, one eye squinting at him incredulously. "Alright, let's say you are Gerald's boy. Why ain't he with you? And for that matter, why and the hell are you here? And hurry up boy, I got more bullets than I got patience!"

"Well, uh, sir...dad's dead. He died in the war, and he's buried in Arlington. I'm here because I have nowhere else to go. My mother and my little brother are off with family in California, but they didn't have room for me. I don't have any money left and instead of living like a pauper on the street, I figured you were my last hope and tracked you down." Leroy explained, praying it would be good enough to keep him from also ending up buried somewhere on this farm.

The old man looked him over, studying the boy's face for a few long moments before mumbling something under his breath. He tipped the barrel of his gun up to rest on his shoulder, his free hand waving Leroy over. "Alright, up to the house with you, boy. But you're still on thin ice and this gun is still loaded, so don'tcha try anythin' funny now."

Leroy nodded and the two of them headed up to the front porch of the house, but they didn't go inside. Instead Dacy sat back into one of the two rocking chairs on the porch. He kept his gun in his lap as he reached into a pocket in the front of his overalls and pulled out a little case. He popped it open and inside was a pipe, a tamper, matches, and a little tin of tobacco. He pulled out the pipe, which looked like it'd already been packed, before he brought it up to his lips and lit the pipe.

He let a large cloud of smoke roll from his lips, before he spoke again. "I'm still having a little trouble believing that you're my grandson. I've been reading just how desperate people are becoming, and for all I know you might be some scout for a whole band of them hobos I've been hearing about. If I'm not careful I might end up with my throat slit." Dacy took another puff on his pipe. "If you really are my grandson, tell me something only he would know."

Leroy thought about it for a moment, trying to remember everything his mother had told him about his father. "Well... mom mentioned that you and my father never got along."

Dacy raised one of his eyebrows, his free hand stroking along the barrel of his gun. "What father doesn't butt heads with his son? Gotta get more specific than that."

"Well honestly, my mother told me he blamed you for his mother's and sister's death." Leroy said, glancing up at the old man to gauge his reaction before continuing. "She said that if you'd just stayed in North Carolina and hadn't tried to move them west for the land grants, they never would have caught the fever that killed them. My mother told me that he was waited until you left to join the Army to fight indians before he took off to start his own life somewhere else."

Dacy sighed and uncocked his gun. "Yeah. I suppose you really are kin." The old man took his gun, and leaned it up against the wall of his house. "So I guess my son is really dead... just like the wife, and my daughter. I was really hoping the two of us would patch things up someday and he'd take over this farm for me." For the first time Leroy noticed some pain in the old man's keen eyes as he said those last words, before he stood up and walked over to Leroy, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder. "But at least I get a chance to know my grandson before I join him in the groundd." He said with a smile, before giving the boy a pat on the back. "Let's go eat, and we'll talk about your duties around the farm, and livin' arrangements."

*****

Leroy and Dacy spent the first few days adjusting to having each other around. Even though Leroy was a bit on the scrawny side, he still managed to carry his weight by feeding the hogs, milking the cows, and helping Dacy tend to the garden of vegetables that he sold in town. Leroy did start to notice something rather odd about the old man's plants. They seemed healthier than any he'd ever seen, they always seemed devoid of bugs, and not a single plant ever seemed to have wilted. None of the cows ever seemed sick and they always gave way more milk than they should. Every single hog seemed to gain weight and girth by the day, and each of the hens laid at least 2 eggs a day.

Then there was the food. Leroy had never eaten so much in his life. Every night the two of them would make a spread like nothing he'd ever seen. They'd always have some kind of meat, sometimes two, with plates of different veggies they picked fresh daily, and some of the best bootleg booze he'd ever had to drink. He could actually feel himself starting to grow around the waist.

Leroy and Dacy seemed to get along well. They worked well together doing all the things the old man hadn't been able to do by himself in years. They painted his barn, built a new chicken coop, and did some much needed repairs on the house. Before Leroy knew it a couple weeks had gone by, and he looked so much different than when he first arrived there. He gained quite a bit of a belly, and his arms looked thicker and more muscular. Something about this place just seemed to make him healthier, stronger, and thicker, just like the livestock and the crops. Pretty soon he'll be almost the size of gramps.

He looked himself over, rubbing along his belly. His pants had stopped fitting nearly two weeks ago, and he'd been borrowing Dacy's clothes until the harvest when he could afford some new ones. He took a deep breath, and his nose twitched as he realized that even the air had a sweetness to it. Every single thing about this place made it a paradise, and for the life of him he could not figure out why. Leroy looked up at the stars twinkling above his head, the night's sky as clear as crystal as the frogs croaked and the crickets chirped. He closed his eyes for a minute, just enjoying this little moment as the full moon's light washed over him. He wondered if there was anything that could make this night better, and then his mind wandered back to something Dacy had said a few days ago. "Ain't nothin' better than smoking a thick pipe, boy."

Leroy rubbed at his chin, he'd always wanted to try smoking a pipe. He'd seen Dacy do it enough that he could probably figure out how to pack it, and the old man did have a nice collection of pipes, so he probably won't mind if he borrowed one. Leroy stood up and walked into the house, heading into the living room, where a cabinet sat filled with pipes of all shapes and sizes, with mason jars filled with tobacco behind them.

Leroy looked over the different pipes, his eyes going from a cherry wood pipe, to one carved like a whale and one made of black ash, until finally his eyes landed on the pipe that was in the center of the collection. It was carved in the shape of a coondog's head, with a long steam and different colored paints wrapping around it. Leroy gingerly opened the cabinet. Something about that pipe just called to him, and before he knew what he was doing, he was reaching out to grab the pipe, his his finger gingerly running over over it's surface. Immediately it felt strange, like there was already heat coming from it. Like it was already lit.

He knew he had to try this pipe. He grabbed a box of matches, a mason jar, and walked back out onto the porch. He began to pack the strange pipe and was to bring it up to his lips to light it when he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. He sprung up, eyes scanning all around him, squinting to make out anything in the darkness. "Who's there?" He shouted, but no one answered. "I'm not playing around! I've got a gun!" He shouted out louder as he reached over and grabbed the rifle his grandfather greeted him with the first day. Again, there was no answer, but he saw something big lurch out of the shadows and head towards the barn.

"Shit!" Leroy cursed, before shoving the matches into his pocket along with the pipe, and dashing after the shadow. He could see someone running just out of sight, heading deeper into his grandfather's property toward the cow pasture and the woods just beyond that. At this point he couldn't risk leaving the shadow figure alone, knowing that the cows were the most valuable thing on the farm, and if the figure was a cattle thief, his grandfather could lose most of his livelihood. Leroy kept dashing after him as he zigged and zagged, making it very difficult to keep track of him and impossible to hit him with a round from the rifle.

Leroy kept close to him, the darkness making the figure hard to make out clearly, but Leroy could tell one thing -- the figure was massive. Whoever it was had to be at least 7 or 8 feet tall and had something hanging out behind him that bobbed and weaved with his movements. Leroy saw the figure leap over the fence that separated the farm from the woods around it, and he followed suit. He could feel the brush tugging and tearing at his overalls as he dashed almost blindly into the forest.

He saw whoever it was drop out of his sight, and as he cleared the next set of trees he understood why. He had to grab onto a branch as the ground disappeared in front of him and he looked down at the stream that was a good 5 feet or so below. The fall probably wouldn't have hurt him too bad, but it was something he didn't want to have to deal with right now. He noticed movement and glanced up to see the figure scrambling up to get back into the woods on the other side of the bank. He quickly brought the rifle up, chambered a round and fired in the general direction of the figure. "If I see you again, the next one will be in your back!" He shouted before he collapsed to the ground and gasped for breath.

He drank in a few deep breaths of the cool night air, his heart pounding in his chest both from the chase and the adrenaline of what just happened. He stared in the direction of where the figure disappeared back into the woods, his mind trying to make sense of what it was that he was just chasing down, and, given the size of the creature, whether it was even a good idea to do so.

He leaned back against a nearby tree, letting the now sudden calm of the night help settle his heart down. He knew he should head back soon, but he was still too tired and shaken up to try. He looked up at the big bright moon that was hanging in the sky and ran his fingers through his hair, before letting his hands rest on his pants where he found the bulge of the forgotten pipe in his pocket. The heat was still there, and he only now noticed that it almost felt like his pocket was on the verge of lighting on fire.

He slid his hand into his pocket, pulling the pipe out along with a few matches. Even after his dash through the woods the tobacco in the pipe somehow managed to stay packed and ready. He brought it up to his nose and inhaled the tobacco's sweet scent, shuddering as the smell washed over him. He just had to try it. He brought the pipe up to his mouth, struck the match against the bark of the tree behind him, and began to light the pipe.

He pulled in a few breaths and could taste the smoke roll across his tongue as the tobacco began to catch. He could already feel a soft buzz in his head as he took pull after pull to stoke the flame. Smoke rolled from his nose when he finally got it properly lit and he laid back against the tree, his head gently spinning. It was incredible. He had never imagined that smoking a pipe could feel so good. He felt his whole body start to relax, the rifle slipping from his hands as he laid it gently on the ground beside him, and he closed his eyes, just letting that white puffy smoke become his world.

He never noticed the twig snapping behind him or the rustle of the underbrush. He didn't realize something was wrong until he felt hot, wet breath rolling across his neck. His eyes snapped open, but it was too late. Whatever it was pounced on him and pressed him onto the ground, it's paw coming to rest over Leroy's mouth and nose. It held the handle of the pipe between it's digits, forcing Leroy to inhale the deep rich smoke, his head starting to get fuzzy and spin from the lack of fresh air.

The figure kept its massive weight on him, before it leaned down and whispered something into his ear, the voice deep and rumbling despite the softness of the words. "Breath deep young one... Just give into the smoke, it knows what's best for you."

Leroy couldn't fight anymore and relaxed in the figures arms, breathing in the smoke. It made him feel strange, beyond what he knew pipe smoke should. He could feel his body swelling, changing, parts rearranging. He could feel his overalls begin to tighten, his swelling gut pressing against the front flap and waist, the denim straining against the pressure. He could feel his boots start to tighten around his feet, his toes cramming inside as they began to grow to meet his new mass.

The whole time he could also feel that huge creature on him, it's dog-like face twisting up into a terrifying grin as tendrils of saliva dripped off it's lips, landing hotly on Leroy's neck and rolling down to his shoulders. The creature's paws kept the pipe held to him firmly, keeping his lips locked around the stem as it growled into his ear. Leroy heard a tearing sound, and he could feel his overalls bursting and giving way, his new bare belly rising into the cold night air, starting to press up against what Leroy could now identify as the coarsely furred belly of the creature above him. He felt his skin start to tingle as a fine mesh of similarly coarse, black, curly fur began to spread across his own body.

He felt the creature's paws start to slide over his body, his grip loosening as Leroy's face started to push out from his head. He looked on in horror as he watched it forming in front of him, a cold, wet black nose developing on the end of it, his ears sliding up to the top of his head. He watched as his new appendage began to grow grey fur with darker black splotches spreading across it. He felt his ears begin to elongate and flop down, the tips tapping the sides of his head. His whole body began to tingle, the black curly hair all over his body being replaced with a thick coat of the grey and black splotched fur. The creature above him took the pipe from his lips, and finally lifted his full weight off of Leroy, letting him go.

Leroy put his hands in front of him to push himself off the ground, but there was a problem. They weren't really his hands anymore. They'd shifted, his nails had become black claws, and they were covered with black fur. He flipped his new hands over, and underneath them new black paw pads had formed. He stood up, his shredded clothes falling off of him, allowing him to look down at his new body which was mostly covered in grey fur with tiny black flecks. His calves had dark black splotches on them, and so did his biceps. He let out a loud yelp as he felt something stabbing him just above his rear, he looked behind him just in time to see a long slender black tail shoot from his back, its fur blending with the large black patch of fur that ran along his back. He watched as the tip of his new tail flicked and the fur there turned a brownish red color.

He heard a wolf whistle behind him, and as he pivoted his boots exploded as his feet took their final growth spurt and turned into proper hindpaws. He looked at the creature before him, who looked like a similar version of what he'd become. The dog looked a far bit older than he did, white hair speckled his muzzle, and his whole body had a bit of a sag to it from gravity taking its toll over time. The pipe hung from his muzzle, puffy clouds of white smoke rolled from his nose, before he clapped his paws together. "Well done, son. I'm impressed, most boys aren't stupid enough to chase me alone. Hopefully this will teach you not to bite off more than you can chew in the future, which might be hard, considering that your new muzzle is going to tempt you to do that a lot." The blue tick hound growled with what Leroy's addled brain interpreted as a smile as he looked the boy over..

"Wh...what have you done to me?" Leroy asked in a croaked, whimpering voice.

The old dog just grinned, "I didn't do anything to you, but you did receive quite a unique gift that few others have had the honor of."

"What do you mean? What gift? What others?"

The old dog took a seat on a nearby stump, smoke still rolling from his muzzle as he talked. "I'd love to get into all that with ya, pup, but I've had enough of you usin' that pretty muzzle for talking. Why don't you come over here and show this old dog what else it's capable of. It's been a while since I had a cutie like you around, and bein' that you're new to the whole dog thing, I got a nice, juicy bone for you to wrap it around." The dog said as he spread open his legs, Leroy only now noticing that the older dog's paw had been stroking slowly over a fat, red shaft that sat throbbing under his rounded belly, his huge grey balls swinging gently underneath.

"What?!" Leroy yelped out, cringing in shock as he stared at the dog's dick. "You have to be kidding! You expect me to...to suck your...your..." Leroy's words fell off as his head began to get foggy, his eyes glazing over. "Your...your fat...j-juicy... delicious looking dick."

It was just so thick and red, and those balls were just so amazingly plump. Leroy felt drool start to form under his jowls as he stared at the dog's cock, mesmerized by it before he tried to shake the thoughts back out of his head. Did this creature really think he was just going to drop to his knees and... worship that... marvelous dick...

"No! What am I doing?" Leroy thought to himself. "It's the smoke! It's the... the smoke...oh dog, that is such a beautiful cock..." Before he knew what he was doing, Leroy found himself on his knees in front of the overweight dog, his nose only inches from the red dick that was making him drooling like a starving puppy. Without another thought, Leroy leaned forward, his paws braced on the large thighs of the older dog as he buried his wet nose against the heavily-hanging, grey-furred balls of the hound.

"That's a good boy, take a good long whiff of what an alpha dog smells like. I have a feeling that soon you'll be getting really familiar with it."

Leroy couldn't stop himself, all he wanted to do was nuzzle and lick those balls, getting a taste for everything this old coondog had to offer. His new, long tongue lapped over that grey flecked sac, the orbs lying nice and heavy in it's pouch, time having made them large and hanging. He soon felt his new nose bump against the pulsing red dog dick above him, looking at it for a moment, knowing he should be disgusted with it, thinking how he should bite it off just to spite the old dog... but the scent of it made his tail wag like a puppy that had been just given his first bone to play with. He leaned up, inhaling it's sweet scent before he stuck out his tongue, and slid it along the underside of that red shaft.

The taste was incredible, the salty musky flavor just seemed to drive him wild, and he could feel his new dog cock starting to strain against the underside of his belly because of it. He kept lapping his tongue across that pole of bright red flesh, making the old coondog above him groan, "Oh yeah, boy. You were meant to be a cockhound. Now why don't you wrap your lips around my pole and show this old dog just how much you love his shaft by giving it a big wet kiss."

Leroy pulled back, his eyes tracing over that big, blue tickhound's shaft, drool already forming in his jowls as he thought about it sliding in and out of his muzzle. Some part deep down inside of him told him this was so wrong, but he didn't care because it felt so right. He bumped the tip of the old dog's shaft with his nose, a little drop of pre transferring onto that black flesh, before he pulled back and licked it off with his new long tongue. He shivered, that sweet musky, salty, sweet, flavor just tasted so amazing. He had to have more!

The younger dog hesitantly wrapped his lips around the pointed head of that old dog's shaft, suckling on it, drawing out another bead of that pre from the dog's pole. He moaned as it rolled across his tongue, closing his eyes as he began to slide his muzzle down along that old dog's shaft. He felt his muzzle bump against something that was beginning to form on the base of the dog's shaft. The old dog's knot was beginning to swell up, and while he wasn't sure how he should know it, he knew he had to squeeze it. He slid his paw up, and wrapped it around the forming bulge, and gave it a hard squeeze, which got a loud "Woof!" from the old dog.

He felt the big dog's belly grinding against his nose as the older dog leaned down, lifting up one of the younger dog's floppy ears and blowing smoke into it. "Ohhh that's a good boy, but I think it is time that I broke your ass in proper. Get in position pup, it's time that this old hound dog gave you a breeding that you won't soon forget."

Leroy had never even heard that term before, but somehow he know what it meant. He found himself shifting, turning around, getting on his paws and knees, and lifting his new tail up and off to the side. He began to pant, his cock flexing as if it knew what was about to come. The old coondog behind him, grabbed ahold of his new rounded ass, and squeezed it in his big calloused paws. "Mmm the change gave you one nice ass, boy. I can't wait to break it in."

Leroy just knelt there frozen for a moment, gulping as he finally realized just what the dog meant to do to him. He knew he should try to run away, but his new instincts instead directed him to push his ass back, and moan, "Please big dog... please breed me."

The older hound growled appreciatively, and gave the pup's ass a hard slap, making the younger dog yelp. "You got it, boy." The big dog took his wet and drooling shaft and ground it against the underside of Leroy's balls, making him moan and whimper as Leroy's needy shaft flexed below. He could feel the older dog's shaft slip forward and grind against his, making it jump and pulse before he finally pulled back, sliding it against Leroy's crack. He began to slide it up and down, hotdogging against the pup's pucker, making him whine and squirm under the larger dog.

"Please," he whimpered needfully. "Please stop teasing me, sir. Please put it inside me." The words sounded foreign and strange coming from his new muzzle, but at that point the night could no longer be considered all that normal.

Leroy felt as the old dog pulled back, letting the tip of his pointed shaft find the pup's tight pink pucker which lay between those two black-furred cheeks, and began to gently press forward. The pointed head of the hound's dog cock did it's job, allowing it to painlessly pierce into the young dog's opening and begin to slide it's way in. Leroy let out a high pitched howl as the initial discomfort washed over his body, but the tapered tip of the older male's shaft working to slowly stretch him open over time rather than splitting him open in one shove. Despite this, as he felt the big dog's length slowly bury it's thickness into him, Leroy was forced to grit his teeth, and dig his fingers into the ground. He could feel the pain burning under his tail as his hole was forced open, but as it pressed against something deep inside of him, a pleasure spot that made him realize that he didn't care how uncomfortable it was, it just felt so incredible having that big dog inside of him like that. He tilted his muzzle up and let out a soft moan to express his appreciation.

The older dog began to pull back, making Leroy start to feel empty, until just the tip was left inside, before he thrust forward again, slamming right into the spot inside the pup that made him howl in ecstasy. The old dog grabbed the boy's hips, and began to pull him back in time with his thrusts, gently at first, but eventually working into a rhythm so that he was slamming the boy down on his cock with every thrust.

The old dog developed a deep, lustful growl in his chest as he also began to pant in laboured breaths. "Oh god boy, you are one tight bitch." He said before give the ass of the younger dog a hard slap.

Leroy could feel the smoke roll across the back of his neck as he felt the big dog's knot begin to press against his tight ring, each thrust threatening to squeeze it's way in as the older dog thrust in and out of his tight hole. He felt the old dog shift his weight, lying across his back, his big belly grinding against him as a paw slid underneath him and wrapped around his dog cock. The old dog began to pump his dick in and out of Leroy his new position allowing him to give harder and deeper thrusts as he stroked the younger dog. "Come on pup, spill your seed into the Earth. Show the Earth your need to make her fertile. Let her know just how much you love this gift she's given you."

Leroy moaned, his eyes closing and his new fat balls began to pull up tight to his body. He could feel the thrusting of the dog's fat shaft, his knot now popping in and out of his stretched anal ring, forcing him farther open with each thrust, before it finally popped inside and would not pull back out. The old dog's length became buried completely inside of him, his thrusts turned shallow with no where to go, bashing right against that pleasure spot deep inside of him, constantly battering it like never before.

Leroy gave a long drawn out howl as his cock twitched and his seed shot across the ground, milked by the canine cocktip hammering against his most sensitive spot. He came, and came, and came. It was like his balls were trying to expel every ounce of cum that he would ever produce. As he was cumming he heard the big dog behind him join in his howl, his dick flexing inside of Leroy as his balls started to empty inside of the younger dog. Leroy could feel the dog's massive load start to fill him up, before it pushed out past his knot and pooled on the ground along with his.

Leroy looked down, and something strange happened. Their cum gained a silvery shimmer, before the earth sucked it up, drawing every last drop of their seed into the ground. Leroy panted and looked around at the plants and trees around him as they began to shake, their leaves rustling, before they shot up like rockets, each tree growing in width, and gaining a few inches in girth. The plants grew tall and strong as their stems pulsed, a sea of flowers bloomed around the two of them. The old dog growled into the younger dog's ear, "I think she really enjoyed your gift, why don't we give her a little more?" The big dog slowly but firmly pulled his knot free of Leroy's hole with a wet pop before he laid down on his back, lifting his knees to his chest, and showing off his puckered hole to the new hound dog. He grinned, his pearly white fangs twinkling in the moon light. "Get to work, boy!"

**

Leroy felt his head pound as he sat up in his bed, he rubbed his forehead, and cursed under his breath. He felt the fur under his fingertips, and he felt his heart leap in his chest. He opened his eyes and saw the cold black nose at the end of his new muzzle. He held his new paws in front of him, running one along his arm, feeling the fur just to make sure it was real. He could smell bacon downstairs, and he could hear his grandfather in the kitchen working on breakfast.

He couldn't go down there like this! Dacy would most likely pump him full of lead before he even had a chance to explain. He looked over at his clean clothes, and quickly realized none of them would fit him. He just had to make a run for it. Leroy leapt out of bed, and swung the door to his room open and he began to bolt down the stairs, whizzing past the kitchen where the smell of food made his stomach growl. He could see the door to the outside just ahead of him, when an arm shot out and clotheslined him, knocking him back, and slamming his head into the hardwood floor.

Leroy's head spun as he felt himself dragged into the kitchen and set onto a chair. His head spun for a minute before he adjusted himself in the chair and got a look at who had knocked him to the floor. He recoiled in fright as he realized it was the dog from last night, but he was wearing the apron his grandfather always wore while he cooked. "I figured you might freak out this mornin'." the said with a somewhat familiar drawl, and oddly concerned eyes. "Might seem like a silly question judgin' from your mad dash for the door, but you doing okay? The first few days after the change can be kind of rough."

Leroy just looked at him for a moment before asking, "W-who the hell are you? What have you done to me? And where the hell is my grandfather?"

The old dog just rolled his eyes, before flicking the younger dog's nose. "You're a thick one, ain't ya boy? I'm your gramps! Why else would I be in MY house, making food for us?"

"But..." Leroy said, still trying to wrap his mind around everything.

The old dog sighed, before wiping his paws on the apron, and taking a seat across from Leroy. "I guess I should do some explainin'." The old dog said before sliding off his apron, and throwing it on the table. "Ownin' a farm had always been a dream of mine. It was somethin' I'd wanted ever since I was youngun. Its why I tried to go west in the first place, the thought of ownin' my own piece of land was just too temptin' of an offer to pass up."

The old dog's face turned dour, his eyes drifting away for a moment. "Unfortunately that dream cost me my wife and only daughter... and drove a wedge between me and your father. When we got stuck in a no-where town with no place else to go, I decided to join the Army to try at a new life that could get me and your father out of the hole we were in. He, as ya know already, had other plans and took off on his own.

"Then good ole' Uncle Sam thought it sensible to send me n' the boys off to fight the Indians in the frontiers of the West. We were told, officially, it was to protect the settler's from having their territories invaded and to help settle land disputes." The bitterness in the old man's voice could easily be heard as he finished his sentence. "It didn't take long to realize that the people that we were fightin' weren't the savages we were lead to believe, and that they weren't just attackin' folks for no reason. We were stealin' the land that had been with them since their tribes first walked the Earth, and they were just tryin' to protect their own homes and families from us. We were the invaders, we were the ones attacking them for no reason... but I had to keep that kinda thinking to myself and keep fightin' or I'd been shot for sedition. 'Goin' native' as they liked to call it."

The old dog sighed, and he continued, one large paw wiping warily over the top of his muzzle. "I managed to keep goin' for a while, but then my regiment got lost in the mountains during the winter when a massive snow storm rolled in. We lost our trail and didn't take long before we started running low on food and supplies. Our horses were the first to either die or run off in fits of starving hysteria, and we were forced to keep goin' on foot. One by one the rest of the men fell to the cold. Soon it was just me and my commanding officer, Bill Hickcok. We kept pushin' forward, surviving on horse meat and whatever plants we could scavenge, but the hunger was startin' to erode our minds.

"Our food ran out within a week, and all we could think about was to keep movin', knowin' that if we stopped we died. Then we came upon a teepee with puffy white smoke comin' from the top, so we knew someone was alive and livin' in there." The old dog leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking under its weight. "Before I knew what was happenin', Bill was rushing towards the teepee with his rifle drawn. I chased after him, but he jumped into the teepee before I could stop 'em, and I heard a high-pitched scream from inside, followed by one other. I went in after him, and inside was an Indian women shielding her daughter as they cowered together."

"Bill started to go on about how this was a gift from his Christian god, and how all we had to do is kill those two girls, take their food and we'd be kept alive til' the snow cleared. He cocked his gun, lined up his shot... and my bullet went through his skull. Thankfully, I'd always been somewhat of a quick draw."

"I couldn't let him do it. I couldn't let him kill two people in cold blood, just so we could live. No life is ever worth the price of another. I apologized to the women, and said I meant her no harm, and that I'd leave. As I reached down to drag out Bill from her tent, I felt her hand on my shoulder. She smiled at me, and in english almost as perfect as a southern belle's, she thanked me. She told me she needed to repay me for savin' their lives, so she handed me two sacks. One was filled with enough jerky to get me out of the mountains and into the nearest town, and the other was small enough to fit in my pocket, but inside was an ugly looking pipe. It was just a square block of wood with a hole in the top and a stem, but she told me it would give me the gift to make any ground more fertile than my dreams could ever imagine, but not to smoke it until the night of the full moon. I didn't believe her, but I accepted it anyway. I left, burying Bill into the snow as best I could before I started my trek out of the mountains."

The old dog scratched at his chin. "I managed to get out of the Army soon after that, and I used what money I saved to by this land. When I got here it was nothin' more than a dirt stain with a house on it. The stream that runs through it was so polluted that the fish couldn't even swim in it. But it was mine. The first few years were rough, this soil never seemed to like anything done to it, the trees could barely hold on. But one day while I was going through my things, I found that ugly pipe, and remembered what the woman had told me. I figured if I'd tried everything else under the sun, I might as well give this a shot."

"I waited until the full moon, and then with my trusty bluetick hound at my side, I lit up the pipe, and let the smoke roll from my mouth. That smoke took me over, finding its way into the deepest parts of me, and found something inside that it yanked right out. The pipe began to glow, hunks of wood falling off as it began to carve itself. I watched it form into the shape of a coondog's head, and soon after watched as my body joined it. I saw my body swell, bursting out of my clothes, and transform like yours did last night. I went from a skinny twig of a man, into a well fed monster of one. I felt this unimaginable lust spread over me, and before I knew what was happening I was jacking myself off right there on the ground under the full moon. I shot one of the largest loads of my life that night, and saw every last drop of it turn silver, then get sucked up into the ground. All around me, the pathetic excuse for crops I'd managed to cultivate so far all started to grow like crazy, turning green, lush, and thick before my very eyes. I couldn't stop jackin' myself, and soon I'd done it all around the farm, spillin' my seed over what seemed like every last inch of land I owned. By the mornin' I was living in paradise."

"The stream turned crystal clear, the trees were all healthy with some already bearing fruit, and my crops looked healthier than any I'd ever seen before. That women had given me the most amazing gift, and I've treasured it ever since." The old dog said, a soft smile on his face. "And now I finally have someone to share it with. I was going to tell you eventually, but I didn't think you were ready for it. That's why I was so surprised when I saw you lighting up my pipe on my monthly run around the farm to, ah-hem, 'fertilize it'."

Leroy's muzzle hung open for a second, if the proof wasn't sitting right here in front of him, he'd have called it a lie. He looked down at his paws, and he looked up to see the dog's half erection hanging loosely from the sheath between his grandpa dog's legs as the old dog rose up to stand in front of him. "Really, I was getting tired of always having to be in my human form, but now that you're a hound like me, I can be like this all the time. And now I've got someone to help feed this lust that pulses through my veins every minute of every day. I bet you can feel it now too. All you want to do is shove your dick into something and get off, to spread your seed and make things grow, don'tcha boy?"

Leroy could feel it. He just wanted to spread his gift, let his seed touch every part of this farm, and make the most beautiful crops, and with the two of them donating their seed, they would be twice as strong and healthy than either could do alone. He looked up at the big dog in front of him, giving his muzzle a long lick, before he leapt to his feet, and slammed the old dog onto his back over the kitchen table with a deep, lustful growl. Leroy lifted the old coondog's legs high into the air, pressing forward until his dog cock found his grandpa's hole. A deep growl rumbled in his chest as he thought about just how much seed he was going to sow in this land, but first, into this old dog.