Yelps and whines sound from your canine muzzle calling the German Shepard, writhing upon the couch as you anxiously heave your pelvis and rake your claws over the cushions. Your mind is too clouded with animal lust to barely think straight displaying your swollen canine sex unabashedly for the friendly stud hoping the rousing musk of your pheromones will provoke the mutt into taking another interest and understand your invitation. Some fragment of shame itched in the corner of your consciousness believing briefly that you held little control for your actions, that there was this secret primal entity taking over and changing your body and thoughts. But you knew that wasn't true. You enjoyed all the moments you could be alone and embrace the dog deep inside, experiencing the provocative rush of letting loose and behave like one, fawning over a coat of fur and tail and paws of your own.
Wanting to play with dogs on their level. Wanting to feel a close connection. Wanting to...
Whether the lustful desires were indeed yours or part of this invading mentality with becoming a dog you can't stand fighting back the need any longer, barking urgently for the German Shepard to come. The mutt does as you wish stepping forward and gently leaping up against you panting muzzles heaving inches part from each other, his chest rubbing over your sensitive teats; his lengthening erection teasing your wet folds. Feeling the dog's body on top of you, your forepaws wrapping behind his feral physique; exhilaration heightens as you tug the Shepard closer into a warm embrace, seductively grinding each other's caninehoods instilling needy ideas and permissions.
Yes; you want to submit. You want to be a good girl; a good bitch for your mate. He must be getting the message; you want to be ridden, to take the canine's growing lust and fulfill your primal desires to truly live like a dog. Your ready to accept it, embracing the end of your transition as begin to lick the Shepard's muzzle elated for your affections returned nuzzling your neck; the mutt's legs working as you feel the tip of his hood grinding between your heat gaining entry. Your eyes spring to life, content whines spilling from your drooling pant as you spread your legs wide and lower your forepaws around your stud's rear, thrusting your own pelvis as best in tandem with his plunges.
But it feels...weird. No no, you absolutely love what's happening now, being mated by a real dog as you become one somehow the best sexual experience you never thought you would have in your life. It's just...your posture feels awkward doing it like this. Your mate is struggling to perform having to lie on top of you like this, barreled chest to chest. You can feel his knot swelling larger between thrusts anticipating the moment it would finally pop completely between your folds, your sex beginning to tighten and take in the canine tie. Yet this doesn't feel quite normal, an strange position to submit to your primal whims.
You need to mate like a real dog. You need to be mounted proper.
Your forepaws wrestle the stud from your lap growling defiantly as you manage some space, the German Shepard whimpering confusingly as he bounces and paces wanting to climb back upon you. You bark and whine expressing how much you want him too rolling over as you slide off the couch grasping the cushions for support, your hindpaws planted on the floor. You cock your head back to the excited stud panting happily, lifting your tail far back to offer yourself once more.
Your stud eagerly accepts feeling his snout and tongue brushing your heat stirring your longing intensely, whining sharply as you bark to be dominated; to mate. Teasing no longer the Shepard leaps upon your lower half and hug his forelimbs around your sides, his head leaning over your neck groaning as his haunches posture behind your rear humping wildly to bury his thick red canine bone back into your sex.
You howl softly in joy as it happens, lifting your head back and puffing out your furry chest proudly as you quiver pleasurably in your feral rut, embracing caninehood. The familiar heat your transformation blooms slowly returns during this act, your body twisting and altering as what remainder of your physical humanity melts away. Cracks ache around your hips feeling the lose of your bipedal posture strangely increasing your lust with the knowledge you are forever bound to all fours, the thrill of running and playing in a full canine body heightening the bliss of your climax approaching. Being a dog feels wonderful. Being a dog feels...
Pop!
Yelps bellow from your fevered panting, cheeks as fleshed as your hide hidden underneath your thickening fur, whining onward to the rapturous sensation of being tied. The Shepard's knot fits deep within her tight walls swallowing his bulbous girth, thrusting madly as his milks his loins pouring the faint streams of his coming potency. He's going to burst; your canine stud will so fill your womb with his virile animal seed.
And you really want this. You need his lust, you want to bare his pups. You want to breed like this all the time. You want to dash about and play with your mate all day, to be showered with his affections and share the warmth of each other's furry bodies. You're his whenever he seeks to slight his yearnings, and he is yours when your heat begs to be sated. You'll mate again the moment your stud recovers from this rut, again after that. Breed. Breed...
Thick cream pump inside your canals knocking you off your paws, dropping onto the floor as you revel in your mate's orgasm sparking waves of similar ecstasy.
-Finish later-