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in Chronivac Version 4.0 by anyone tagged as none

Chronivac Version 4.0

Steve wrecks the kitchen. (BAD Steve, BAD!)

added A year ago A BM Mental

Steve took munched at his sandwich, watching his fur spread down toward his knees and farther up and around his chest, feeling the peanut butter sticking everywhere in his mouth as he did so. He was eating normally, at first, bite after bite like a human, but he couldn't keep that up much longer. The rumble of his stomach, the smell of food in front of him, and the urge to get his meal inside him (and out of everyone else's reach) drove him much too strenuously for that. He was too impatient to eat this way, even though he was already kind a fast eater among people. He was soon chomping huge mouthfuls out of the sandwich, biting down hard on each mouthful just enough times to force it down his throat, occasionally dropping out huge slobbery chunks of sandwich from his mouth and cramming them back up in his mouth as soon as he could. By the time he'd stomached it all, he could still smell it strongly on his breath. He licked his chops and wagged his tail as fast as it would go. The twitching appendage now stuck out over three inches behind him, which felt long to Steve but not nearly as long as it would end up being. He swallowed some sticking leftover peanut butter from his tongue and tickled his extra nipples some more. It didn't take him long to find that perfect spot that made him feel the best and made his leg kick out the most--but it ALSO didn't take him long to accidentally bang that leg too hard against the underside of the table, so Steve took a reluctant break from his special spot.

He wiggled his nose, realizing his nostrils felt wetter at the end of it. Instead of reaching up to touch them, he stretched his tongue up out of his mouth and licked them, surprising himself that he could actually do that. Mmmm, his tongue still smelled like his lunch. He sniffed the air, realizing the kitchen smelled better than it had in years. He stood up to walk around a bit, maybe go and check the progress bar on the Chronivac, but before he even made it out of the kitchen, he passed a cabinet and sniffed. He sniffed some more. He leaned in closer. He opened the cabinet. There was food in there, easily accessible food, really familiar-smelling food. It was like the bottom dropped out of Steve's stomach when he saw that half-open bag of potato chips sitting in there, and numerous opened and unopened bags and boxes of snack foods all around it. He licked his lips again with his longer, broader tongue. He grabbed the chips out first and piling them into his mouth before just shoving his whole face down into the bag. He licked it clean and then burped loudly before sticking his head back in the cabinet to sniff around. It was long before he found himself tearing into have the containers and chowing down.

'No wonder dogs are always begging for more!' he thought, finally lying back to rub his belly. It seemed that every new smell of food reignited his appetite, and he couldn't stop smelling all the food in the reach. He felt a tad guilty that he'd left such a trail of empty bags and boxes all over the floor, but at least he was full ENOUGH to think straight, or so he believed. He panted lazily and listened contently to the rhythmic thumping of his tail against the floor between his legs. 'I really AM getting into this!' he thought. His whole torso and most of his legs was covered in brown fur, now, which had finally started spreading down his arms. He rolled over onto all fours, tentatively raised himself to his two legs, and found he could still stand basically like normal. He staggered contentedly toward the kitchen doorway, wagging his tail and wondering what he ought to do next. Maybe a nice nap on the couch was in order.

But before Steve even made it into the doorway, he absentmindedly stopped to sniff the wall. It smelled, well, like a wall basically. He could smell its dry paint and its subtle layer of dust and the handprints where he and David had touched it, but that was about it.

'Hmph. My kitchen wall don't smell right,' he commented silently to himself. 'Too stale, too plain. Not enough me.'

Before he even had time to second guess what he meant by that, he found himself looking down at his sheathed dick and thinking, 'That will fix it!' But the obscenely prominent brown bulge from his stomach didn't seem to be doing anything, and he couldn't seem to make it. Before at least taking a second to think carefully about what he wanted it to do, he thought to himself, 'I need to be on all threes for this.' And so, without further ado, he stuck dropped to his hands and stuck one leg up at the wall. His penis finally got to work doing something, whatever would make the wall smell better. A soothing warmth coursed through his rock-hard member, which felt warm and cozy inside its furry sheath. A soft trickling sound reached his ears, and a satisfying odor reached his moistened nostrils. Steve understood instantly that it was a GOOD smell.

'David will be proud of me,' he thought slowly. 'This kitchen is OURS now. This flat part is MINE.'

Steve lowered his leg down and thought back approvingly about what he had done. And in doing so, he finally had time to think over in detail what EXACTLY he had ACTUALLY done. "Wait, did I just pee in the kitchen?!" He looked back and sure enough, there was a big wet patch on the paint, and an insanely strong smell coming off of it--a smell that STILL smelled pleasant and personally identifiable to his new nose. He picked up some cloths and started cleaning the patch away as best he could.

'Man, this is exactly what I hate about dogs! Darn things wanna piss everywhere! But shit if it don't feel excellent!' Steve was finally starting to feel a bit torn about his decision to be the animal he'd never wanted to have. But not torn enough to stop himself from going through with it. 'I'll have to try extra hard to stay housebroken for David! Keep this little bit of the experience outside where it belongs.'


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