Jared worried at the sleeve of his shirt that now clung in ill-fitted style to his new sheepdog form, trying to get a limb through the sleeve, all while a rather smug Kirk looked down from on high. "For god's sake, pull up your pants," Jared barked, still having to watch the football jock's hairy balls and cock as they swayed overhead. In the wake of his transformation, he was somehow less enamored of them.
Jared heard a sharp click as Kirk pressed an end to recording with his phone. Although not in response to Jared, whose protests registered only as canine barking to the football player, Kirk did then pull up his shorts and pants, slowly, unwilling to take his eyes off the dog.
Trying to get out of his own shirt utterly defeated the hapless sheepdog. "Help me!" Jared barked.
“Holy— ! Dude, you're a dog! You turned into a real dog!" Kirk appeared, at least to Jared, to have trouble moving beyond the obvious. "You're a damn dog!" Kirk repeated a third time, laughing loudly.
Jared growled and tried to crawl forward, attempting to shed his jeans. With this endeavor, he had more success. He managed to scoot his body on the cabin floor, shedding the unwanted jeans as he did so. Watching the clumsy effort only increased Kirk's laughter.
Jared, not fond of being laughed at, slumped on the floor and whined.
Kirk got control over his laughter and held out a hand, tentatively, as if afraid Jared might bite him. "Good boy," he said in a calm tone. He patted the sheepdog's head. "How'd you do that?"
The question left Jared wondering, too. All he knew was that he and his brother had messed around with some magical (apparently) artifact and had attracted the attention of some tricky ancient Egyptian god. Could he get back into human form? Could Kirk help him? Would Kirk help him?
Youth and dog calmed themselves after the initial excitement. Jared sat back on his new canine haunches and stared up at Kirk. He shook his head to dislodge some fur that kept sweeping in front of his eyes.
Kirk scratched his stomach and bent forward at the waist to get more on the sheepdog's level.
"You still in there, buddy?" Kirk asked.
Jared didn't exactly considered Kirk a buddy. He had let hormones drive him for his encounters with the big, muscular alpha football jock, but now Kirk was the only person who knew what had happened to him.
"Yes," Jared barked.
Kirk heard a vigorous "Woof" and shook his head. "I don't know what the hell you're trying to say."
Jared barked again. "Don't worry," Kirk responded and moved to the kitchen cabinets. He rummaged through them as the sheepdog eyed his every move. A moment later, he returned.
Jared's eyes fixated on the dog collar in the jock's hand.
"I hope it fits," Kirk said. "We left it here as a spare for when Chester comes to the lake with us."
Jared wondered who the hell Chester was? Was Chester Kirk's dog?
Before he knew it, Kirk had the rather tight-fitting collar fastened around Jared's neck. He then reached down and helped thread Jared forelimbs out of the shirt he had been wearing before he transformed.
"Don't you worry about a thing, boy," Kirk said.
Kirk seemed very calm about the entire situation. Too calm, really, for Jared's liking. He didn't care for the way Kirk called him "boy" but chose to dispute it later.