Kirk kept squeezing Jared's junk. "It's OK," he murmured into Jared's ear.
"No, it's not," Jared protested.
"That Wep-or-ma-callit said I can change you back," Kirk said.
Jared felt his dick change and emerge out of its silky sheath, rubbing against the fabric of the borrowed jeans.
Jared whimpered. He could hide that change, but others were more noticeable. Kirk saw Jared's newly fur-covered ears grow long and floppy at the side of his head.
"Oh-Em-GEE! It's happening again!" Kirk's enthusiasm grated in Jared's new ears, acutely sensitive to Kirk's loud, excited words.
As Kirk watched, Jared felt helpless to slow, let alone reverse, the cascade of changes.
His arms and face showed fur growth accelerating. He was sure the same was taking place beneath his clothes, especially when he felt the tail push out from his spine and bunch up uncomfortably in the seat of the denim jeans.
"Kork...prease..." His words slurred as his face changed. His nose darkened and pushed, shaping itself into a snout. His jaws did the same and when he tried to speak again the result sounded more like gruff growling.
His limbs and spine rebelled against his attempt to maintain a bipedal stance. Before Kirk's eyes, Jared had changed again into the form of an Old English sheepdog.
Laughing, Kirk helped to divest Jared of the borrowed clothes.
The dog whimpered and licked at Kirk's hands with a big, wet tongue.
"Damn, Webster!" Kirk said. He folded his arms and looked down at the canine, which cocked its head and tried to look at the human through a curtain of fur straying across its eyes.