The coyotes pounded away at the pair of latex vixens for hours. Each time they felt they should be spent, they received new vigor from the magic, which continued to subtly reshape their bodies and minds to be a bit stronger, a bit more beastly, and ever more dominant over their new playthings. Eventually however, Orson pulled away from Linda, standing up and panting, not because exhaustion had finally caught up with him, but a sort of sexual greed. He was giving out two rooms to these rubber sluts after all, so why should he only be having his way with one of them? Heading to the other bed, he pulled his brother away from Henry with a gruff, "hey, switch off!"
Farrell was a bit puzzled by that. He was in the middle of the best sex he'd ever had, why stop now? "I said switch off!" Orson shouted again, shoving his brother away. "And Jesus, why the hell'd you leave that thing on there!? Here go ahead and keep it!" In a blink of an eye he grabbed Henry's throbbing cock and roughly yanked it off, throwing it at the slightly disoriented Farrell where it slapped him across the face with a dull thwack before falling to the floor along with Linda's. He then threw himself onto Henry, wrists pinned down, canine rod buried deep, and long tongue licking those breasts within seconds.
Henry cried out with a fresh orgasm, and a sudden shift in perspective. When Orson tore away what was now just a toy, lying on the floor, any remaining sense of masculinity went with it. She was suddenly utterly incapable of thinking of herself as ever being anything but female. It was what she was, and what she had always been. She remembered, even if it all grew increasingly fuzzy, her life with Linda, and the children, but no part of conceiving them, or any other sexual encounter as a man. Even thinking of herself as Henry was no longer possible for her. She was simply what her collar said. A living fuck toy, existing purely for rough dominant canines like the one now slamming so roughly into her to relieve their urges. The more forceful the better. The less regard for her as any sort of person, the better. This was pure bliss, and she never wanted it to end.
Farrell meanwhile sulked for a moment. How dare his brother treat him like that? And how was he supposed to know these vixens had removable parts? He growled, tempted to throw Orson aside and take back what was his, but a part of him knew he wasn't as strong as his brother and there'd be no point. In some effort to recover some pride, he turned to the other vixen Orson had abandoned. "Hey, you want some of this?" he asked, gesturing at himself, and he was met with a nod from Linda, whose eyes were already glued to his dick, and whose mouth was hanging open in anticipation.