Her words wrap around your mind like a warm blanket, and you find yourself nodding without even thinking. The idea of staying by her side, being her good dog, feels so right.
Your hands grow clumsier as your fingers curl inward, pads forming on your palms. You watch in a dazed, dreamy haze as black and white fur begins to spread down your arms. Your nails sharpen into small claws, but instead of fear, all you feel is... excitement.
The woman’s fingers continue to scratch behind your ears—ears that are now shifting higher on your head, stretching into soft, pointed shapes. Every gentle caress sends a warm wave of pleasure through you, and your tail—because yes, you definitely have a tail now—wags eagerly behind you.
“Such a sweet pup,” she coos. “You’re going to be perfect.”
You can’t help but lean into her touch, letting out a soft, happy whine. The world around you seems to blur, your human thoughts fading into the background. Who needs to worry about the past or the future? All that matters is her.
Your legs tremble as they reshape, bending into a more canine stance. You slip off the chair and land on all fours without even noticing. The sensation feels natural—better—as your tongue lolls out in a blissful pant.
The woman kneels down, stroking your soft fur.
“There we go... my perfect little collie,” she whispers. “You’re mine now, aren’t you?”
You bark softly in response, tail wagging faster. You don’t even remember what your name used to be. All that matters is being a good dog, her dog.
Your heart swells with pure joy as she clips a leather collar around your neck, the little silver tag jingling softly. The last remnants of your human mind melt away, leaving only loyalty, happiness, and the overwhelming desire to please your new mistress.
“Come along, pup,” she says, standing and giving a light tug on the leash.
Without hesitation, you follow her out of the tent—your old life nothing more than a distant memory.