"Oh, here's your all access guest pass," the receptionist said leaning
forward and putting a heavy leather cord with a small plastic tag on
it over your head. She added, "It's also your room key. Just scan it
on the bar code reader next to the door, and the lock will open."
"Okay, now that's different," you say.
"Oh, this resort is different than most, in many ways, ma'am," the
receptionist says with an odd smile.
You just notice all the wonderful scents streaming at you: pine,
burning wood, hot cocoa, coffee, roasting meats, and the
receptionist's now suddenly pungent perfume. Why hadn't you notice
before?
"Now here's the map to your chalet. It's just around back, follow the
signs that say "Kennels" and you'll have no trouble locating it.
Chalet 321."
"Okay, Chalet 321 - uh, you have kennels here?"
"Oh, yes, my dear. As I said this is a special resort, we have a team
of St Bernard's as part of our ski patrol rescue team. Then there are
sled dogs. If you want a true winter experience, you have to try a dog
sled. We have trainers from Alaska and Canada. Oh, and then, well
Richard our kennel master has animals he trains as guide dogs,
handicap assistance animals and watch dogs. After all we don't have
snow here year round, and need to make money other ways," she said
with a lilting laugh. Then she added firmly, "Now go to chalet 321,
and change."
You feel suddenly compelled to obey her. You'll come back for your
hot cocoa by the fire after you unpack. You head with your suitcase in
tow on rollers toward the exit.
"Oh, Bryce!" the receptionist shouted, "Take the bitch's bag and make
sure she gets to Chalet 321!"
A young man in a bell hop uniform appeared from nowhere to grab your
suitcase. "Let me take that, ma'am," he said politely.
You are nonplussed and ask, "Did she just call me a bitch?"
Bryce looks surprised, "Uh, no, ma'am. She just asked me to help you
with your bags. The acoustics in here are bit off, high ceiling and
the open bar over there. Perhaps you heard someone shouting while she
was speaking? Well, come this way, we'll get you to your chalet. I
tell you want to change quickly." He grinned brightly and led you out
the door.
You noticed his sweet musky scent. You'll have to find out what
cologne he uses. You'll give some to your boyfriend when you get
back.
You're halfway down the path when you ask, "That's a nice cologne your
wearing. What's it called?"
He glances over his shoulder and blushes, "Well, thanks ma'am, I'm not
wearing any cologne. Not allowed to use any scented body products
here at the resort. It's against company policy. Too many people are
allergic these days or offended by unnatural odors."
"Oh, so the receptionist doesn't wear perfume either?"
"No, ma'am. Can't even use scented body washes, soaps or shampoos.
Everything we use has to be unscented."
You hear yapping dogs, the kennels must be nearby.
"Ah, here we go, ma'am. Just let me borrow your key," he says setting
your bags down.
He reaches for the key card around your neck. The leather cord seems
to have shrunk. You have to lean in with your face an inch from the
wall for the card to scan. There's a beep and then a buzzing sound.
He passes the bags through the dog door which has just unlocked.
"A dog door into a chalet?"
"Oh, lots of hotels now that cater to pets. The resort is the most
pet friendly," he said proudly.
"Really? I don't suppose there are any pet free rooms?" you ask.
"Hardly, now go in!" he gestures toward the large dog door.
You want to question him with an appalled voice, but instead his firm
manner, strong masculine scent and gesture make you want to obey. You
drop to all fours and go through the dog door into your chalet. He
follows through the full-size door next to the dog door. Why didn't
you even try the knob. That must have been what he meant when he said
to go in. Why did you use the dog door? You're blushing now.
"Good girl," he says patting your head.
He's joking with you. You blush and look up from the floor next to
your bags.
"Oh, wait let me get you your tip."
"No, ma'am, all gratuities are included. This is an all inclusive
resort. All your food is included too. Have a good change, I'll see
you later."
Then he vanished out the main door.
"Oh, my!" you say as you look around the chalet. Why hadn't you
noticed before he left? It's so small, and so poorly furnished.
There's a big mattress on the floor like a futon only smaller with a
blanket. The kitchenette looks like it was designed for midgets or
handicapped people. The sink is practically on the floor, and there
are floor pedals to operate it. There doesn't appear to be a proper
bathroom. Do they expect her to bathe in the large sink? She looks
around and notes the sign next to the dog door that advises to use
designated dog walking areas only, and to scoop your poop if you're
outside one of those areas. The sign is at dog height, like dogs can
read. You shake your head, and continue on all fours to explore the
tiny one room structure. There are a couple of silver dog bowls: one
marked water and one marked food. The phone is on the floor next to
the dog bed on a table only 4 inches off the floor. Then there's the
huge big screen. It appears to be set only to black and white. Good
grief, you're using your nose to push the buttons on the remote next
to the phone. What's wrong with you?
You turn to check yourself out in the mirror. Eek, your face is
covered with fine hairs. You're changing all right. Oof, a tail pushes
outward from your spine and pushes your pants downward. The phone
rings. You push the speaker button with your hand resisting the urge
to use your nose.
"How's the room?" says the cheery receptionist's voice. Not waiting
for an answer, she continues with her introductory speech, "Welcome to
the Resort. We hope you'll enjoy your all-inclusive stay. Kibble is
available in the main lodge from 4--6 daily. Flea baths and
treatments are available from the Spa between 7 and 7 daily. Tomorrow
Richard will be your personal trainer, so get plenty of rest. He'll
want you fed and, ahem, walked, before he picks you up at your chalet
at 7 am. I've taken the liberty of signing you up for a frequent
guest program, it's called the Kennel Club. 99% of the resort's
clientele are repeat customers. And some never leave. Have a good
night. Oh, and the dog walk area is just about 300 yards down the path
from your chalet. You can't miss it, ooh, the smell. Haha, Well, good
night, and I hope you enjoy your stay, bitch."
Your jaw drops, but before you can speak. She's hung up, and you hear
dial tone. You push the button on the phone to disconnect. You're
using the palm of your hand, not your fingers. You struggle to remove
your clothes as they are suddenly binding in all the wrong places.
Good grief, you're really turning into a dog - a real life bitch.
That woman knew. She did really call you bitch.
Is everyone at the resort transformed into dogs? Or just a select few?
you wonder. Still, you watch in amazement as your hand becomes a paw.
The changes are slow, and not terribly painful. You move over in
front of the full length mirror for a better view. You are really
turning into a dog, but what kind? You think you should be more
upset, but after all you're on vacation. So you decide to relax and
see what happens.