Date: Fri, 9 Sep 2005 05:27:41 -0700 (PDT)
From: Alistair Bentley <xformguy@yahoo.com>
Subject: Headshop: Hound: Chapter 12

Headshop: Hound
Chapter 12: Living

By Xformguy@yahoo.com


We got back to Curtis and Benjamin's apartment and separated. Benjamin
headed to his room and disappeared into it. Curtis sat on the couch with
his head in his hands, more than a little freaked out. I sat down in an
easy chair next to him and the Spaniel sat down at my feet, pressing his
naked body against my legs. From the way he squatted and then sat, it was
obvious he was still learning to operate his human body again.

My own head was filled with cotton. I found myself keying of visual stimuli
much more than I remembered. Everything was exploding with garish color and
it almost hurt to process the sensations. My hearing was muted and my sense
of smell was nearly gone. I knew this was normal for a human being, but it
felt so weird after so long. The dog part of my brain had quietly gone back
into the back of my head and seemed to be sleeping. I decided that I was
okay with that.

I realized that I smelled awful and that my hands and feet were caked with
dust. I excused myself, disentangled from Spaniel, and headed to the
shower. In the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror.

I had changed. My hair was darker, jet blue-black, and had the consistency
of the undercoat of a dog. I ran my fingers through it. It was basically a
buzz-cut, but so thick you couldn't seem my scalp at all. I had long
sideburns that reached all the way to my jaw and a scrabble of beard on my
chin and lips. I reached down and grabbed the microtrimmer from the
countertop and separated my dense eyebrows from where they had grown
together into a thick stripe. They had the same density as my hair, no
longer fine hair, but more like wide strips of fur.

My body was shaped human, and looking down, running my hands across it,
this was confirmed. I did it obsessively, my fingers probing every corner
and curve. My body was pink and human. The extra nipples I had grown had
disappeared, leaving only my primate ones. They looked a little more
conical and were standing out at attention at the moment, but I moved on. I
wasn't covered in hair like I had expected; the parts of me that had been
smooth were smooth again. I was a little more ripped than before, and the
muscles on my chest, abs, and quads stood out when I moved more than I
remembered. With all the metabolic changes, I guess I had lost some weight.

But, this left me with a terrifying thought. I couldn't gauge how much I
might've permanently shrunk. I seemed to be the same height as before, but
without my own clothing, it was hard to tell. I looked around the room, at
the counter and toilet, trying to judge myself against them. Had the
counter come up to the same place on my body from before? Was the toilet
the same relative height? I couldn't remember. I hung my head. If I was
shorter, then I was. It was better to be a short human than a dog.

My cock was human sized and shaped, but was surrounded by patches of the
same thick undercoat hair that was on my head. My pubes were soft and silky
now and, when I brought my fingers to my nose, they smelled of dog. I still
had my foreskin and it seemed to have darkened just shade. All-in-all, it
was nothing I couldn't live with.

I still felt impossibly tall, perched precariously on human feet, and my
hands felt like they had tentacles on the ends of them. All the fingers
were hard to control, but, when I wasn't thinking about them, they moved
fine and did what I wanted. I just had to stop TRYING to make them work and
let instinct take over.

Then of course, there was the dog collar. It was an inch thick piece of
black leather, studded with silver squares and the medallion that was
apparently the "magic" part of it. It was around my neck and sat so high I
knew I'd never be able to hide it. I wondered how I was going to get by
with having a fucking dog collar around my neck 24/7, but that was a
concern for tomorrow.

I leaned over the edge of the tub and got the water hot before I stepped
into the shower. Immediately, the sluice of water felt shocking on my
skin. I had flashbacks to the baths that Bullet would give us and I started
to get a hard-on remembering how he had jacked us off. The water running
against my skin was sensual. It only made it moreso when I soaped up and
was running my slick hands over my body. The hair on my head and pubes
still felt strange to my touch, but I'd have to live with it. It was a
small price to pay to be a human being again.

I had trouble remembering being a dog. The more I had changed, the harder
it was to remember what it had been like. I got scores of emotions surface
- - panic, dread, a powerful simplicity and acceptance, even a little
contentness - - but no details of what had happened, how it had
happened. It was very disconcerting to have lost a month of my life and to
barely know what happened.

When I soaped up my cock, it got hard. I realized that the head of my cock
was tapered to a point now. It had regained it's definitive glans-shape,
but it was no longer the wide mushroom I remembered.  I gasped at little at
how good it felt. It was definitely more sensitive than before. When I
peeled back my foreskin to wash it, the soap and water made me shiver as
the head was exposed. I felt something odd in my body, an eruption, a huge
squirt of pre-cum shot out of my cock like a mini-ejaculation. I shuddered
as it hit the wall. Okay - - this was new. I had barely ever leaked
before. Now I was shooting pre-cum??

I looked at it dripping down the tiles, still holding my hard-on in my
palm. It didn't want to shoot, but instinct was fighting my for control of
my hand. I wanted to pump it and slowly my hand moved up my cock and
circled my head. I caught my breath.

The curtain pulled back and Spaniel got into the shower behind me. I
might've objected, but frankly, I was glad for the company. His own body
was long, lean and ripped, but like mine, about 95% human. His own cock was
dark, had a foreskin, and to match the mop of curly black hair, he had a
bundle of curly black pubes. He also had patches of hair on the back of his
upper arm and the back of his thighs the same consistency of that on his
head, obviously not formal body hair, but those were the only odd things
about him.

He looked at me with blue eyes that were awash in simple need. He stepped
into the shower and came up behind me. The simple warmth and weight of his
body were intoxicating next to my skin and his hands circled my hips,
pulling me close. His hard-on pressed against my crack and slid to the
small of my back. He kissed my neck. I stayed hard and jacked a little
more.

I pressed back to him and he accepted it, sighing in my ear. Ever since
he'd become human again, he was clingy, but I figured this was okay since
we were all a little traumatized. He reached around and grabbed a hold of
my cock and I released it to his grasp. He pumped it a few times, sliding
his palm up and over my bullet head, sending shivers through me. It had
gotten brick hard and, when he released it, it jerked up and down on its
own, some inner impulse in me contracting my kegel muscles like a machine
gun. I couldn't deny this any more, I was fucking hornier than I could
remember being.

I turned around in the shower and kissed Spaniel. He returned the kiss,
shoving himself into me, and sliding our hard cocks against one another's
belly. I looked down at his cock it was as hard as mine and, as I watched,
it squirted out a few blasts of pre-cum like mine had done. Okay then, I
guess it was normal.

We surfaced from our necking a bit and I turned us around in the shower,
until Spaniel was under the stream of water. It seemed to shock him a
little, the warmth and the sensation both playing over his skin. I started
to soap him up and he reveled in my hands moving over his skin. We were
both still dirty, so I cleaned us up. He got into it also, finding the use
of his fingers and hands again, and running the soap over himself and me.

There was something perfectly human about showering and the actions of
doing it brought us both farther along the road of being human
again. Toward the end of the shower, Spaniel actually spoke. The words were
inexpert and formed on his lips slowly, and his voice was deep and strong.

"I'm Matt," he said, "You were very kind . . . in the . . . yard"

I kissed him again, trailing my teeth down his neck. He swooned at this,
crouched down and started washing my feet. I let this happen, even if I'd
rather have been kissing him, but he kept pressing his face into my crotch
at the same time, so I went with it. When he was done, he only half stood
up. He turned around in the shower and, with the water streaming against
his back, he presented his ass to me. He wanted me to fuck him.

My cock was still bobbing uncontrollably, so, I didn't miss a beat. I
stepped up behind him, lowered it enough to be even with his hole, and I
pressed against it. My cock obliged and spat out some more pre-cum, which I
rubbed with my cock head into his hole. I gasped as I did this, the
sensations were waking the "thing in my head" back up from its slumber.

Bare-backing this guy was not a good thing to do, I knew it. Fucking him
when he was vulnerable didn't seem very "kind" either, but he wanted it
badly. As I slid myself into him . . . we both gasped at pleasure that
unfolded inside us at the action . . . I knew that there was something more
I needed to find out. The collar was around my neck and I was a human being
again. I had to know if it worked. If I shot a load, would I stay human.

I buried myself inside Spaniel . . . er, Matt . . .  to the base of my
cock. He was gasping for hair as the water splashed off his back onto my
torso. He braced himself on the tub sides and rose up a little on the balls
of his feet. I rose up with him, finding the balls of my feet unpredictably
more comfortable than standing flat. I pushed my weight on his back and his
knees bent a little and I laid across it, getting water on the back of my
neck.

Then, I fucked him. I unleashed my desire into him. As I did, my human
intellect began to fade in favor of the sheer sexual emotion that was
dominating me. I let this happen. I knew I could probably control it, but I
let hit happen. I pounded Matt and when I shot my load, I didn't - -
couldn't - - stop pumping until it was all out of me, until any movement of
my cock into him was so sensitive it made me jerk.

Then I waited a moment. I felt the change inside me. I quivered, shuddered,
like a car whose clutch just got popped. It wanted to work its way through
my anatomy. I could feel tendrils of it pushing their way through me but
. . . in the end . . . nothing happened. The sensations subsided. I was
still human again.

I pulled out of Matt and he shrank down into a squat recovering. He had a
collar on too and must've cum, because I could see his flesh quivering and
flexing just like mine had. Nothing happened though, he stayed human,
too. He got back up and hugged me. We were both still panting too hard for
kissing.

We got out of the shower, wrapped in towels, and headed out into the
apartment. Curtis was there in sweats, curled into the couch. He looked at
us and gestured toward a pile of sweat pants and t-shirts on the
ottoman. We got into them and I was now acutely aware I needed to get back
to my dorm room and get my own clothes.

It hit me so hard I sat down hard in the easy chair. I'd been gone a month!
A fucking month!! I'd been a fucking animal for an entire month! I
remembered what had happened with Ken the night before it had all happened,
how I'd smelt his ass and he'd freaked out. I was going to have to deal
with that, my parents, my classes, my job! Oh man, was my life a freaking
mess.

It all started moving quickly after that. We talked with Matt and, while he
couldn't remember how long he'd been in the yard, when we started asking
him question about what he did remember, we figured it to be about 2
years. He'd been a young professional, with a great job and apartment, but
now, he could barely remember how to operate a computer, much less program
one. Being a cocker spaniel for 2 years had fucked with his head. No wonder
he was so vulnerable.

Benjamin refused to wear the collars. He was a freak and couldn't quite
assimilate the fact that he'd murdered someone. He had killed Kane, it just
hadn't exactly worked. Maybe he was punishing himself or something, we
didn't quite know. He kept jacking off compulsively, hence he kept
changing. He also kept submitting to having us fuck him back to human
shape. We were all so perpetually horny that I guess it didn't matter; we
obliged him.

I went back to the dorm and was treated to a nightmare. Ken had moved out
and levied actual charges against me - - sexual battery or something - -
and I had to submit to a this whole counseling process in order to stay in
school. My fucking parents got involved and that was even greater levels of
hell. I started hanging out with Curtis than dealing with the jeers and
shit my dorm-mates gave me.

Then the full moon rose. I hadn't quite clued in when Kane first mentioned
the thing about "using silver," but now, with the moon's effect on us, I
understood. We were were-dogs. The moon drove us all into a sexual
frenzy. We spent the nights of the moon in Curtis' apartment, naked and
fucking in every combination. Benjamin, still claiming he was straight,
would sit in the corner masturbating himself into oblivion. When daylight
broke, we returned to our senses, and there was a boxer dog in the
corner. Benjamin had gone too far.

He stayed a dog while we fucked the next two nights, but after that, we
found him curled in a corner, naked and sleeping. He was completely
restored to humanity. He started wearing the collars after that. Of course,
it wasn't doing any of us any good to be wearing these huge dog collars
everywhere we went.

So, I gathered up the collars we had and headed back to the place where it
all started. I sat in the parking lot for a long time, just watching the
door. It wasn't easy to go back to the Headshop and confronting it felt a
lot like confronting something inside myself. I had come here originally
just to get off an act that, given the consequences, was irresponsible. But
I hadn't had any other outlet and I had been so fucking horny. Now, I was
having more sex than I thought possible, more than maybe I even wanted. It
seemed my life had turned into sex and that's all I thought about or did.

When I had the courage to enter, I was carrying a box of the collars we'd
picked up in Kane's yard. The kid with the Mohawk looked up from the papers
he was pouring over and nodded as I made my way through the traditional
porn store. The leather shop was empty and I moved through it quickly, no
longer nearly as attracted to what I saw and smelt there. I entered the
alcove sheepishly with my box and set it on the counter. The Proprietor was
there and he looked up as I entered, taking the huge rubber dildo on the
counter and setting it aside.

"Mr Stokes," he greeted me, "It's been several weeks. Are you adjusting to
your new condition."

I was angry at this guy, this purveyor of products that ruined my
life. This guy who'd been in league with Kane, but somehow, I knew it
hadn't been personal. I couldn't decide if that made him more of or less of
a monster. I opened the box and tilted it toward him.

"I want to sell these back to you in exchange for something," I said.

He glanced around the shelves drawing my attention to them. "There's much
to choose from," he said, "But I'm surprised you seek further
modification."

"Nothing like that," I said, "I want a cure." I was thinking more of
Benjamin than myself. He was suffering much worse than the rest of us,
especially given he was straight. I'd gotten convinced of this fact over
time; he submitted to the fucking and had actually gotten accustomed to it,
but it was clear he hated it.

"There is no cure," the Proprietor said. Before I could say anything else,
he clarified, "for centuries men with your affliction have sought it, but
none exist. Kane has managed it best, according to my records."

I bit my lip at this, frustrated. "Then I want four collars modified," I
said, "to be necklaces like Kane wore. I've got seven of them in here, plus
I can give you back the one's we're all wearing. Is that enough payment."

The Proprietor thought about this for a moment, then conceded, "That
exchange is acceptable." He took the box, "Come back for them tomorrow."

I nodded and started to head out, but his words caught me. "Most men turn
into mush after one or two transformations," the Proprietor said, "How does
it feel to be strong?"

I stopped in the doorway of the alcove. Matt-Spaniel was not recovering. If
my life had been disrupted, his two years as a cocker spaniel had destroyed
his life. He had been declared dead and lost everything he owned. He sat
around Curtis' apartment like a ghost and we could barely keep him
clothed. Curtis was showing signs of losing it too, while he'd kept up
appearances, he barely left the house either, too afraid of what might be
out there. I couldn't forget that Benjamin had basically committed murder
as a result of his transformations. Now, after being a Boxer dog for two
days, he was obsessively ignoring his cock and refusing to have any kind of
sex at all, despite the collar. They were all messed up.

But, wasn't I? I still had counseling to go to - - and fake out - - and I'd
been looking into other housing options beside the toxic dorm, but I was
still functioning. I looked back at the Proprietor and met his gaze. It was
odd to me, but he was right. I was the strongest one. It's an adjective I'd
would never had attributed to myself before all this happened, but it was
true.

"Don't judge Kane too harshly," the Proprietor advised.

I didn't speak and I left the alcove and the shop completely. In the car, I
wondered about Kane and Bullet. I could see similarities between Bullet and
Matt-Spaniel, they were both clingy and would do anything their masters
said. Yet, this painted me as the master, which was a little unnerving.

In the end, we got the modified collars, so we could do out in public
without looking like goth rejects. I found an off-campus apartment and
Matt-Spaniel followed me too it without much discussion. After months of
him being agoraphobic, one day, I just took his collar off and let him be a
dog. He didn't complain, in fact, he seemed much happier. Every now and
then, especially during the full moon, I'd make him be human again and we'd
fuck for three days straight until he was a dog. I even got to the point
that I would let myself change a little, exploring the various stages of
the change, since I could freeze them at any given point with the collars.

This was how we lived. At some point, I started wondering about the guys I
saw on the street. I cruised them, they cruised me. I thought about biting
them - - it was a foregone conclusion that we were all still "contagious" -
- and wondered if I had the right. I knew it was a matter of time before
the moon caught me and I got sloppy with my control. I would do it. I only
hoped I could hold out long enough to buy a house with a yard.