"SHEPHERD!" he blurted out.
"Uh... sure? Like, Australian, German--"
"GERMAN SHEPHERD!" Jeff found the silence awkward at his desperate-sounding outburst, regained his composure, and spoke more softly. "I mean, they're great dogs: strong, loyal, intelligent, good for scaring off intruders. What's not to like?" In reality, Jeff heard what sounded like a decently dignified dog breed and hurried to claim it after accidentally giving Sally the impression that a strapping young man like himself might consider turning into a corgi, even if that impression was correct. Even if it was just until his family got home, he was NOT going to be seen as a lap dog, much less a purse accessory. Sally raised her eyebrow.
"I mean, us dogs don't care," she explained. "You humans made up all that stuff. We mainly just go by their scent, maybe by their bark and sometimes by their bite. If they smell tough enough, we let them have their way. If they seem like they want to be our friends, then they are. If they smell weak, we can still be nice but we won't let them mess with us. We don't have the faintest idea of all that pedigree nonsense. I didn't even know I was a golden retriever while I was one, but obviously I know now because of how you made me human."
Jeff still smiled and held his head high, convinced he'd finally saved face after what he thought of as "the small breed incident" and passively letting his dog have control of his Chronivac and his clothes. He watched her hands fly over the keyboard, Chronivac screens flashing in and out of view before her. He was amazed that the Chronivac had made her so intelligent as a human! She could use the device's control app better than he could, from the looks of things. He was also a little intimidated, because he wasn't sure someone who should be licking her own butt would be the choice ideal choice to take control of his anatomy and psychology. So far, she seemed just like a normal woman with above-average intelligence and a first-hand understanding of life as a dog. Even so, how would a dog use seemingly omnipotent technology, especially a dog whose mind and body have been warped by that same technology? If Sally got them both in trouble somehow, how we he explain that he turned his exclusive beta testing opportunity over to his dog?
Sally made one last click, a beep came out of his computer, and the emitter started to buzz. The computer screen had a little box that said "THANK YOU, TRANSFORMATION IN PROGRESS!" with a percentage bar starting at zero. Jeff's stomach lurched, probably more from nervousness than from the device.
"You mean you're done? It's starting?" he asked.
"Well, yeah. It's not that complicated. Ooh, your ears are changing!"
Jeff now realized there was no turning back. Because both transformations were set up for manual change, he was now totally dependent on his dog to get him out of what he'd gotten himself into. Sure, he was interested from the start in seeing what the Chronivac was capable of doing even to himself, but did he really want to go through the evening on all fours, hoping Sally was as smart as she looked? Would he be stuck as a slobber-mouthed tail-chaser forever? Oh, and yes, he could feel his ears changing.
The crunching sound of shifting cartilage sound far worse than it felt. The really uncomfortable part was the pressure, the stretching, as his ears built themselves up into fleshy towers to cup sound in through the big internal cavern their fleshy walls created. His hearing was getting much more acute as this process continued. He could listen to the birds outside without turning his head: his new ears were like amplifier dishes, and he could simply tilt his left one toward the window and bring the outdoor sounds in louder and crisper. He raised his hands up to get a proper feel for his hears, amazing himself with how tall the were above him and how broad they were at the base.
His huge ears flattened, jerking themselves backward, when he felt a sudden snap in his lower spine and a big bony bump jut out into the back of his tight underwear. He knew what that bump was going to be, and he might have been eagerly curious in private, but he wasn't sure he was ready for such a drastic affront to his humanity in front of a woman, especially someone who was supposed to see him as her master when all of this was over.
Sally saw the uncomfortable look on his face and looked him over. Something above him caught her eye, and she said, "Hey, give me your hand!" Jeff's ears perked up at the sound of her voice, which wasn't for the best since it sounded incredibly loud to him now. He flinched, but calmly brought down one of his hands from the vicinity of his massive triangles. She took his hands on hers and seemed to be looking over his nails, so he did too. He leaned in close, amazed at what the Chronivac had given him. Long, black, curved widths of keratin adorned his stubby fingers. The stiff, tan hairs sticking out of his warped hand grazed soothingly against Sally's soft human fingers, and the leathery, bulbous weights of puffed-out flesh that had grown on the underside rubbed against her palm in a way that intrigued him. Bringing his other hand down to examine it himself, Jeff gaped at his large, padded paw and the claws he was now wielding upon it. He tried to make a grasping motion or close it up into a fist, but it was no use: his fingers (toes, really) would barely budge, and his thumb was just a dewclaw. Now he couldn't type or click a mouse to save his life: it was all up to Sally now! At least she seemed to know what she was doing.
"Oh, look at your beautiful brown fur," she told him. It was spreading up his arm and he could feel it starting to sprout on parts of his neck. Hearing a compliment on his appearance from a gorgeous woman warmed his heart inside and made that bump in his shorts try to twitch back and forth. Unfortunately, it was forcibly held between his butt cheeks at a not-so-pleasant angle. His pants were going to be a problem. After a few minutes of watching Jeff's fur grow on his face, neck and ears while he gazed into her eyes dreamily, Sally said, "Why don't you take off your shirt? We'll get a decent look at more of your coat."
Losing the dignity of clothing already? Jeff wasn't sure he wanted Sally to see his coat. It felt like she was looking him over as some kind of weird experiment, which if they were testing the Chronivac on him, he basically was. He basically saw her the same way in her new human form, but surely that was different! She was just a dog! Or at least, she had been. Now maybe he was going to be?
The shirt was getting much too hot with his torso covered in shepherd fur, so without further ado, he took it off and showed her the experimental results she was asking for. The Chronivac was working alright: his chest was covered in rich brown hair while his sides and black were jet black. Sally rubbed her fingers over his rather short coat, looking dazed as she did so. It felt great, which also felt bad since his pants didn't fit right anymore. "So this is what it feels like to pet a dog," she said in awe. Jeff realized he now knew what it felt like for a dog to be petted. After a few minutes of bonding over the comforting texture of Jeff's coat, they suddenly locked eyes again. They both looked anxious, but for different reasons.
"Why hasn't anything else changed?" asked Sally seemingly worried that Jeff might be stuck as a dog-eared furry human with paws. Jeff almost dreaded to break the news about what had, in fact, been changing all along.
"I ... feel something," he said shyly, his voice sounding a little more gruff in his throat.
"Oh, you are changing?" guessed Sally. "Or, you're getting sick or you're hurt. It makes me nervous that I can't smell you as well as I could when I was a dog."
"Ch-changing," Jeff groaned, the pain reducing his voice almost to a whimper. The thing that grew out of his spine was now long, firm and muscular, as it had been growing almost from the start. Jeff was aware of how easily he would be able to move it, if it weren't stuck down his pants leg with underwear wrapped tight around the first part of its length. Almost his every attempt to shift his own weight a little within his clothes strained the new appendage, sending sharp pains through the nearly doubled length of his spine. He knew he couldn't hold out any longer: he chose to be a dog, he chose to be naked. Human clothing was not even a remote possibility for the time being. Even pulling down his pants was unpleasant: the overstretched underwear and the rough denim tugged his tail on the way down, stretching his vertebrae, flattening his ears and making him wince. When he finally worked his way out of his outfit, he sighed and flexed his new limb in every direction possible, taking full advantage of his newfound freedom to do so.
"Oh, wow, the Chronivac IS still working... and it seems you're as happy as I am!" said Sally.
Twisting around to see for himself, Jeff was surprised to find that his tail looked... surprisingly dignified. For a dog, anyway. It's peppery black length and width looked forceful, yet graceful, a perfect fit for a finely honed canine guardian of the public peace. Also, it really did make him look happy when he wagged it, and it kind of made him feel happy too. If the family pet was determined to watch him turn into a dog, Jeff decided that the German shepherd breed had been a good choice.
A few more cracks in his spine and tendons made him tumble down and have to catch his weight with his forepaws, and he seemingly got pulled up on tiptoes as his legs reshaped. His nose started to wiggle, his lips and nostrils raced forward to meet each other, and they couldn't seem to decide who won the race as the front of his skull kept spurring them both onward and outward. The creaking sound of strained bone terrified Jeff's ears and made him tuck his tail between his legs. As the muzzle got longer, his sense of smell got better, and his nose detected Sally's worry at his apparent unease. He wagged his tail a couple of times to calm her and kicked his brain into high gear trying to sort out all the new information he was getting. It seemed almost like his nose had a mind of its own and wanted him to follow it, or like the mind in his head was more or less a trusted advisor to the one in his nose. He soon found himself padding around the room with his head down, involuntarily critiquing scents and wagging his tail when he found any that gratified him. He didn't know how long it had been when Sally snapped him out of it:
"Jeff? JEFFY! Come 'ere boy."
He didn't know if he was very happy about his pet addressing him like ... well, like a pet. Still, since he was somewhat satisfied that he had at least a vague mental map of the scent layout of the bedroom now, and he knew he was totally dependent on Sally until she followed through with the deal to change him back when his family got home, he decided he'd better be a decent pet for her until then. He smelled leather in his hands, and soon she was wrapping something around him--a collar! It wasn't exactly comfortable, but he could possibly get used to it.