Date: Sun, 28 Aug 2005 04:07:36 -0700 (PDT)
From: Alistair Bentley <xformguy@yahoo.com>
Subject: Headshop: Hound: Chapter 11

Headshop: Hound
Chapter 11: Rescue

By Xformguy@yahoo.com


I looked down from Benjamin and his ax and just stared at his sneakers. All
the thoughts in my head were beginning to resolve, even as Curtis stroked
my back. Some of the other dog-boys were looking at us . . . notably the
cocker spaniel I had shared the igloo with and Michael, the German
Shepherd. I couldn't smell any of them and my hearing was muted. I shook my
head, as if trying to clear whatever might be blocking my hearing, but no
ears flopped against the sides of my head. I reached up and touched them
with my fingertips . . . they were small and flat. Fuck! I was a human
again. It seemed so odd. I looked down my body, still squatting, and saw my
human torso, my normal pink nipples, and my totally human cock and balls
hanging down. I saw my lightly-haired legs, my bare human feet, and my
hands - - God! I had hands again.

I pivoted back onto the soles of my feet and stood, losing my balance as I
did. Curtis was there and I leaned on him. I seemed impossibly tall and
unstable - - how could anyone walk like this?? - - but something learned in
my head reasserted itself and I remembered my balance.

"H-how long?" I asked, my tongue and lips still remembering how to speak
correctly.

"A month," Curtis said.

I took that information and put it in my memory. I was almost nauseous at
this, but looking at Benjamin's hard face and the axe in his grip, I
decided that maybe this wasn't the best time.  Benjamin was turning the
handle in his hands, rotating the axe around anxiously.

There was cold sensation on my leg and I looked down. It was the cocker
spaniel. Without thinking, I reached down and unhooked his collar. He
looked shocked, but then, took a couple of steps back and started to
convulse.

"We don't have time for this," Benjamin said, "We have to . . ." He trailed
off, whether it was the distraction of the cocker spaniel growing violently
to human size amid a flurry of squeaking barks, the approach of
Michael-Shepherd, or just the fact that he didn't want to utter whatever he
had to say out loud, I wasn't sure.

"We have whatever time it takes," I told him. I bent down and unhooked
Michael's collar too. He moved off and started his own shape changing
convulsions, but his were more controlled - - he had a tighter reign on
himself.

Benjamin snorted in annoyance and moved off toward the house. Both spaniel
and Michael were starting to make a lot of noise now and the other dog-boys
in the yard were emerging and coming closer. I figured they didn't quite
understand what was happening, and were dredging up their brain power from
the depths of their animal minds, so it was taking them a moment of
witnessing the events to understand it.

Curtis shoved a bundle of blue fabric in my hands and I could related to
effort the dog-boys were expending, but I stared at it confused until I
realized it was a pair of jeans. I unrolled them, nodding at Curtis.

"They may not fit," he said, "I didn't know your real size."

I slid them on and marveled at how weird they felt on my legs, how
confining. I fumbled with the buttons and took extra care not to get my
cock caught in the zipper. I was still clumsy with my fingers.

I glanced over and there was a young, naked guy laying in the dirt on his
back a few feet away. He was lean and surprisingly ripped, and had a mop of
curly black hair on his head. His body hair was swirled with curls, and he
had more than he should have on the back of his forearms and calves, but
otherwise, he looked human. He was breathing heavy on the ground, staring
at the sky, as if in disbelief.

Curtis and I walked over to him and I smiled down. He looked at me with an
emotion that was pure and heartfelt, his wet eyes filled with gratitude. I
squatted down - - finding the jeans were uncomfortable and grating on my
skin - - and touched his chest. He tried to speak but it came out all
distorted and strange.

"We need to go," Curtis said, stealing worried glances toward the house.

Michael-dog had also finished changing and he was squatting in a tight
bundle of muscle a few yards away. He opened his eyes slowly and let his
hand roam over his body, checking it. He gave me a look that I couldn't
read, then stood uncertainly and bolted toward the high fence. He launched
himself onto it, catching his hands on the top and pulling himself over. He
disappeared before I could tell him about the collars.

I tried to put the spaniel's collar back on him, but he erupted in
fear. "No, no!" I interjected, "it'll keep you human!" He looked skeptical,
but watched as I replaced my own collar. He took it gingerly in his hands
and put it around his neck, sitting up as he did.

"It will?" Curtis said.

"Yeah," I confirmed. I pointed toward Michael's collar in the dirt, "Get
that one." Curtis trotted over, scooped it up, and slipped it around his
neck. Both he and Benjamin looked slightly transformed, but this would
forestall any further changes.

Another of the dog-boys put his nose in my hand and I reached down and
undid his collar. The others were approaching too, but Sparky started
barking loudly at the house. We all looked at the back porch, expecting to
see Kane, but realized immediately that Sparky wasn't warning us, he was
trying to warn Kane! Lights flicked on upstairs in the house. Kane was
coming!

I looked for Benjamin, who was on the porch somewhere, and caught sight of
him hiding next to the backdoor, axe in hand. I felt an immediate need to
get out of here, but the other dog-boys were still approaching, now, more
frantically. Curtis and I went to work removing their collars, as Sparky
kept barking. The frat-dogs in the carriers on the back porch were getting
frantic now and they were also starting to bark.

Curtis and I got the last the dog-boys uncollared - - at least those that
approached; a couple of them were either hiding in the igloos or were
barking with Sparky. We had everyone who wanted laying in the dirt,
convulsing back into human form.

The spaniel guy had gained his feet and came over to me. Before I could
react, he pulled me into a hug, his lean naked body pressing against
mine. He kissed my neck and started to nibble it. It felt wonderful and I
caught the drift of the emotion he was giving, but this was so not the
time. I pushed him away gently and he started to kiss my lips. Fuck, I was
starting to get hard again. I pushed him away a little stronger and smiled
at him. His face was so genuinely open and loving that I was a little taken
aback, but he smiled too.

Kane burst out onto the porch wearing only a pair of boxer briefs. "What
the fuck is going on!" he bellowed, and everyone in the yard was cowed. I
knew what they were feeling because I felt it too. Terror surged up in me,
mixed with awe and love for Kane. His powerful body was tense and hard and
I wanted to touch it, to please him, to take away the anger in him.

But equal parts in me wanted to escape. I wanted my life back, as a human
being. The realization that I'd lost a month - - a fucking month!! - - of
my life in this yard spurred my own anger to rise. In the split second that
Benjamin stepped out of the shadows and brought the axe down on the back of
Kane's neck, I felt it was a justified action.

But, when Kane fell, when I saw the unreasoning rage on Benjamin's face
suddenly drain, my anger turned to horror. I sprinted onto the porch,
mouthing "no, no, no, no" as I went. When I got there, Benjamin's hands
were still on the axe handle, which had been buried to Kane's flesh where
his neck and shoulders met.

Benjamin himself was looking at the scene with a level of queasy
apprehension. While I watched, he went from pale to a sickly greenish
tint. There was blood oozing out of the wound, but Kane wasn't moving an
inch. I didn't think anyone could survive that kind of hit. I realized I
had just witnessed a murder and it felt like the entire porch had dropped
10 feet or more, but that I hadn't exactly fallen. I was drifting down to
it like a feather, languidly and lightly.

What should we do? Fuck! Benjamin's prints were all over the axe. How would
the police react to the yard? To the fag-dogs?? To Bullet?? There were so
many questions and no answers at all.

Benjamin started to think this way also, because he put his foot on Kane's
back and dislodged the axe from this spine. The scraping sound it made as
it came away made me wince, turn, and head back down the stairs. I wanted
to vomit, but there was nothing in my stomach to pull up, so I retched a
little. Curtis passed me on the stairs, took but a glance, then came back
down to where I was bent over. Without words, he took my arm and started
dragging me to the back of the yard, to the spot in the fence where they
had come over in the first place. No doubt, their car was on the other
side. I heard Benjamin following us.

"How could you do it?" Curtis muttered to Benjamin as we walked. He was
ashen and looked a little sick himself.

We heard a wailing coming from the back porch and we all stopped. It was
Bullet. He had come out and seen what had happened to Kane and was
screaming an animal wail at the sight. My heart ached at this. Kane was
dead. It started to sink in and I was feeling a measure of the anguish that
Bullet was expressing. Yes, he had done this horrible thing to me
. . . turned me into an animal . . . stripped away my humanity
. . . infected me. How could I love him? Why did I care so much? I couldn't
explain it, but I did.

I pulled out of Curtis' grasp and started back toward the porch. "Jack!" he
called, "No, we have to go!" The spaniel guy was there, gave Curtis a look,
then came after me. Benjamin was silent.

Other dog-boys had finished their changes. They were all types of guys,
ranging in age from my own age to middle-aged. All of them seemed both
confused and resolute to get out of the yard. Some understood more clearly
than others and were heading out over the fence. A couple milled around,
looking at the igloos, the dog bowls where we'd gotten our lunch meat, as
if trying to figure out what they were.

I jogged passed them, my bare feet slapping the dirt and my jeans feeling
restrictive and annoying. Spaniel was jogging after me, keeping pace. He
was bonded to me somehow, I knew. I wondered what I would do with his love
for me, but this wondering was brief, as I rounded the corner of the wooden
stairs and saw Bullet over his master, crying, wailing in profound
grief. My eyes grew wet at the sight. Bullet had been so kind to me
. . . to all of us . . . and Benjamin's act of rage was unforgivable for
this reason alone.

I looked out over the yard. Curtis was at the fence line, looking
increasingly frantic for us to follow him. But, Benjamin was returning to
the porch. He looked resigned. When he joined me and Spaniel there, he
looked at Bullet and his resolute expression fell.

"Why'd you do it?" I asked him, but I knew why. "How could you actually
kill someone?"

"I . . ." Benjamin began.

Before he could get started, we all gasped as Kane's body moved. He drew a
deep, wheezing breath and jerked. Bullet moved aside and finally was
silent. We all stared in disbelief as Kane hauled himself to his feet, his
powerful body righting itself. We were all too shocked to react as he shook
his head and shuddered. He turned to look at Bullet and pulled his stricken
slave to his side into a hug. Bullet pressed his face to Kane's rippling
abs and cried without shame. As his eyes fell on us, Kane's expression
changed from tender concern to concealed rage. His eyes were hard and to
have him look me in the face with him was like being slapped.

"Next time use silver, you morons," he barked. Kane looked out over the
yard, saw the collars that were strewn about where the dog-boys had left
them. He rankled even more and took a step toward us. We all backed up a
pace, pushed by Kane's physical power.

But he stopped and shook. He looked down at his huge body and he shucked
his boxer briefs. We didn't know why he'd done it. Kane took a deep breath
and we watched his enormous cock get hard. We watched the bulge in the
shaft inflate to huge proportions and the tapered head emerge from his
foreskin. Then . . . we saw it start to happen. Kane kept his hands on his
hips and closed his eyes, waiting. His cock head lost definition and merged
with the shaft. His black body hair started to spread from all the human
places it covered, crossing his boiling skin. He held up a hand and watched
his fingers start to shrink.

Kane's chest burst forward, cracking all his ribs. He grimaced and
breathed, but otherwise, made no complaint. We saw his hips shifting. He
reached down and angled his cock to his belly, where it attached. It took
only a couple of moments before Kane was forced to pitch over on all fours,
as his hands and feet became paws.

I watched this rooted to the spot. I'd never seen Kane transform and I was
fascinated by it. He didn't seem to be in the same kind of pain of shock
that everyone else I'd seen do this had been in. Was it easier for him? Or
was he just more used to it? I realized as he bent over that this medallion
was gone. I looked on the floor and it was there, where it had fallen when
Benjamin had cut Kane, the leather strap having been severed by the axe.

Kane's face pushed out into a muzzle as his stocky, black-furred body
shifted and bubbled under the effects of the change. Seeing him become a
huge mastiff, I broke from my reveries and pushed Benjamin down the
stairs. He had dropped the axe and then broke into a run for the fence.
Curtis, seeing us finally coming, climbed the fence. Spaniel and I went for
it as well, scooping up discarded collars as we ran. Kane let out a
chilling howl from the back porch, apparently finishing his change, and
bounded down the stairs after us. I wasn't sure what his intent might be,
but he was growling and slavering and came at us with fearsome speed.

Spaniel and I both jumped for the top of the fence, and roughly hauled
ourselves over it, scraping the hell out of our naked skin. We heard a SNAP
on the other side - - Kane's jaws biting empty air - - and were relieved to
have only the scrapes. We waded through the underbrush, careful in our bare
feet, toward the sound of the car starting. Spaniel and I piled in the back
seat as Curtis hauled down the road. Benjamin was in the passenger seat
with his face in his hands.

I wanted this to be over. But somehow, I knew it might never be.