"We know you can still understand us," says the doctor who gave you the injection, "at least for the time being. The woman beside me is Dr. Kathryn Sazako of the national zoo. She will be conducting a brief examination to verify the successful completeness of your reassignment. You will not resist her or interfere in her inspections. As you can surely deduce, any threatening gestures on your part will trigger immediate euthanization. These guards have very good aim."
Oh, great. You're going to a zoo. Even as an animal, you can't be quite free! Oh, well. You were aware from the beginning that this was a possibility. You wonder what it will be like to see people walking by to look at you all day. Will there be other coyotes for you to get to know? If so, how long will it take before they're obeying you for fear of their lives, just like your old henchmen in the cartel?
Dr. Sazako grabs your muzzle like an expert and lifts your black lips to examine your teeth. You can't see them, but you already know they're sharp enough to tear through the flesh of small animals--or disobedient coyotes. She lifts your paws one at a time, examining each paw slowly and watching you shift your balance effortlessly to the other three. She then takes out a glowing sensor wand, holds it above your just in front of your muzzle, and then slowly traces it over your furry body from head to tail. It blinks and stops glowing, and she nods a few times while reading the results on her medipad. Then without warning, she sticks a sensor probe into your anus, which makes you yelp and try unsuccessfully to tuck your tail between your legs. She yanks it out and looks back at the medipad without a word. So much for bedside manner!
"The process was successful," she tells the doctor. Then she turns to you:
"We're going to collect a semen sample now," she states clinically. "As you know, the goal of species reassignment is to replenish animal populations. Our zoo facility frequently attempts to facilitate natural mating among our coyotes, but such unions are not forced. Your sperm from today's sample will enable numerous artificial inseminations."
Great, they want you to fuck coyotes. But even if they don't, they'll just implant your sperm into a bunch of bitches, who may or may not have been human like you were. You think back to all of those women you paid off with drug money to keep their pregnancies quiet and raise their kids without you. Their sons don't even know who their father is. You guess none of them will ever never know that the coyote that raids their mom's chicken coop might be their half-brother.
The glove goes on, the vial comes out, and the vet reaches straight for your sheath like it's another piece of medical equipment. This is just business for her: no foreplay, no sex talk, no strip tease. She sure does know how to work it, though! You can tell she's jacked off canines before. It's strange to consider yourself a canine, even after holding you're own tail and watching your paws form. The inhuman sack of genitals they gave you turns out to be far more capable of pleasure than you expected, though the actual mechanics take some getting used to: your sheath, gripped tightly in the doctor's hand, easily reveals more and more of the pink member you very nearly coaxed out when you got it. The feel of air on your exposed penis and the smell of your own pheromones in the air takes your pleasure to the next level. Then you feel something swollen down at the base which is still wrapped tightly near the entrance of your sheath. Dr. Sazako easily gets your sheath pulled back and the swollen thing out. You're about to ask what that is when you realize you don't have words anymore, and only a garbled canine gibberish comes out.
Sazako gets her hand right behind your new knot, and the world stands still for you. You're legs start to quiver, the muscles in your crotch clamp up, and warm fluid starts building up within your tubes. At least this part is familiar! The sheer euphoria of having passed the point of no return makes your heart race and your cock spasm, and those spasms send out hot juices that the doctor eagerly collects in her vial. You sniff the air, relishing the scent of your own cum to a degree that hadn't even crossed your mind as a human. The orgasm seemingly goes on forever, far longer than you've ever managed to last as a human. By the time it's starting, you're alone in your own sensual world and only gradually come back to your senses. The woman collects a few more squirts and lets go of your knot. She closes the vial and walks away with it without even looking at you. For you, she's just delivered the best hand job a man (coyote!) has ever experienced. For her, you're just a freshly depleted source of valuable fluid, a piece of livestock that's been milked dry until further notice. Your left with your dick out, soaked in its own juices, desperate for more stimulation before you can fully be satisfied to call it quits. Your left staring at your own pointed dick and massive knot, feeling and smelling the sexual fluids on it, wishing for some way to warmly and wetly clean it all up a bit. Then you remember compound's guard dogs, and how flexible they are, and how long their tongues are, and how much time they spend curled in on themselves toward their own naughty bits...
Before you even know it, you're down on your haunches, leaned in with your legs spread and your long tongue dangling out of your mouth, inching toward your member in full view of everybody. Then your tongue makes contact, and an unspeakable sexual circuit has been completed. You eagerly give your dick and its sheath, along with your balls, the most eager licks a man has ever given anything. You once had access to the most expensive ice creams in the world, but the taste and smell of your own seed, as experienced through a coyote muzzle, usurps all of them. You're overwhelmed with a sense of affection and fastidious toward your new member, as well as pride in what it can produce. It smells masculine, virile, fertile. By the time it's back home in its sheath, you have no qualms about licking for a few more moments just to clean that. Then you look up from your groin and back up at your captors, wondering what else they have in store for you.