"It's easy," said Sam. "You want to be a dog again?" he asked.
"No fucking way," said Jen.
"Good, neither do I," said Sam. "All I've got to do is do transform or dare on you . . ."
"No way," said Jen.
"Don't be a fuckin' idiot. Nothing serious. After I'm done, you do it to me, wish I was your rich boyfriend who lived down the street. Get it?" Sam smiled.
Jen thought about it. She'd get Sam, and the way her ex-dog felt about her she'd probably get married to the hound, and be rich. Being a rich cheerleader already, she couldn't wait to be a multi-millionaire. She also couldn't wait to be fucked by Sam, the thought of being intimate with her animal-like "brother" (once they made sure they weren't siblings anymore) drove her wild. Jennifer looked at Sam, his human, yet dog-like, rough, yet handsome face.
"Yes," she said dreamily.
Sam's reaction was something between a dog and a teenage boy. He jumped, raising his fist into the air in triumph, and howled.
"Transform or dare," Jen asked eagerly. She looked at Sam's, seeing longing written across his face.
"Transform," Sam said, without thinking.
"I wish you were the rich kid living down the street," she told him.
For a second nothing happened, then Sam clothes rearranged themselves. Jen's old shirt, and he dad's old pants became tailor made, rich man's clothes. Sam was wearing an expensive jacket. If he didn't look vaguely like a dog, he'd be the perfect millionaire.
Sam and Jen didn't waste anytime. They tore off their clothes, and fucked.