Carl paused just outside the vet's office. Chad was still in range. He couldn't stick around for the endoscopy, and other stuff, so he set the record mode to capture Chad's experiences. Chad? Was it safe to leave him alone with his own father? Sure he couldn't talk, and he had paws, but humans could be ingenious. Perhaps it would be best if he shut down some of Chad's higher functions.
He whispered to himself, "Nitey night, Chad. I'm going to let Rex out now. No more human brain, just doggy brain, I'll wake and merge you. when you're back in my hands," keyed Carl to his new dog.
Chad awoke with a start. He was naked in his own bed, and he was still wearing the dog collar. His naked body was still coated with the shiny black latex. He picked up his phone to check the time, it wasn't even 6am. Damn, that was a weird dream, Chad started to think, then he tapped his coated skin. It wasn't soft like rubber, it was hard like metal and made a clinking noise. Not a dream? He looked at his phone again. It was Wednesday. His jaw dropped. He'd lost at least five days. He checked the date. A month? Maybe Carl only messed with his phone? He wondered.
He booted up his computer.
"Yo! Chad!" came words unbidden in his head, "You should be up and around, I still gotta fix your body, so you can still pass as human. Just want to remind you that you're my dog, Rex. Sorry my plans had to be put on hold, but you'll be back on all fours in no time. See my grandmother had a stroke, and so I had to kennel you at your dad's. She's moved in with us, and she's allergic to dogs. Oh, and since your dad's a vet, you got access to his chip scanner. Use it. And remember your mine, Rexy boy, now be good."
Chad balled up his fist in anger, as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror. Suddenly, he looked just like himself again. He felt a bit off. He smelled a bit ripe. He showered, and toweled off. Then he started to dress. He laid out his clothing on his bed, but he couldn't put his underwear on. He'd pick it up, he knew where it should go, but couldn't figure out to put it on. He'd cover his crotch with it, but his butt was exposed. Then he'd put up against his butt, but he couldn't get it over his crotch. He used to be able to put on clothing. What had Carl fucking done to him?
"Oh, sorry, Chad, guess I forgot to free up some memories. Dogs don't wear underwear, so I figured you didn't need to know that." There was a pause. BING. Suddenly, Chad knew how to put them on, and he quickly dressed. He quietly slipped downstairs in his stocking feet, and ducked into his father's office. There was a microchip scanner on the desk. He pulled open his shirt, and nervously flipped on the scanner. Let's see usually by front haunch, so his shoulder?
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP....it was reading the chip.
He looked at the scanner display.
MALE
ALSATIAN REGISTRATION NUMBER 60982124
OWNER: CARL (800) 555-2275
Chad's jaw dropped. He'd been chipped. What else had Carl and his father done to him, while he was uh-indisposed.
The computer in his dad's office whirred to life and pinged. It must've been in sleep mode. The scanner was linked to the computer, and the home office computer was linked to the veterinary clinic's computer.
The computer file opened up on Carl's dog Rex. It had several fine photos of the dog, and Chad had to admit, he was a handsome German Shepherd. The bitches would be all over him. He scanned the medical history. His eyes froze. Carl had him fixed three days ago? Chad clutched his balls. They felt like balls should, heavy, springy soft, and oh, damn, they were bigger than his old balls had been. He had a sinking feeling, so he continued to read.
During his five weeks in the kennel, the obedience school trainer evaluated Chad, and recommended he be fixed. The vet's office (probably his dad) had collected and frozen 30 vials of his semen for stud purposes. He'd been x-rayed to check for hip dysplasia. He'd gotten shots, and measurements, and-