As the restored boys looked at each other in bewilderment, a hand shot up in the back of the audience. Madame Illusia saw it and raised an eyebrow.
"You have a request? Come forward so we can see you."
A dark-haired man in his middle thirties pushed his way through the crowd, hesitating a moment before finally moving to stand in front of the witch. He was pretty average-looking, wearing jeans and a golf shirt. Unlike the unruly boys who were now being guided offstage by Stephan, he was obviously very respectful and even a little afraid of the woman.
"What is your name?" Madame Illusia stared at the man with a slight smile. "And what is it you wish of me? Youth, sexual prowess, powerful muscles, stunning good looks?"
"Well, yes. But not the way you might think. And my name is Brian.” The man flushed.
"All of the above? And just how is your desire different from any other middle-aged male I see looking to be a handsome youth?" She smiled.
"I don't want to be human anymore. I want to be a dog." The man's voice had dropped to a near-whisper. "A large Old English Sheepdog."
"Speak up, Brian, let the audience hear you! You need not humble yourself before me!" Madame Illusia looked reassuringly down at him.
He straightened and looked her in the eye. "I want to be an Old English Sheepdog!" His voice was firm and clear, and this time some of the audience laughed.
"That is much better." The witch looked him over. "A sheepdog? You seek some vacation from work, a sordid romp with willing some bitches to laugh about with your friends later?"
"Not a vacation. Permanent." This stopped the laughter, and the audience looked at Brian with renewed interest. "I want to become a dog for real, and for good."
So, what are you trying to escape?" Madame Illusia looked at the man intently. "Are you running from the law? A hateful wife or girlfriend? Financial ruin?"
"I...I just wanted to have the love and affection that only a dog could get from anybody." The man flushed as jeers and catcalls started up in the audience.
"And just how do you expect to pay me for such a service? My demonstrations are free - but I charge as much as a million dollars to transform someone as a custom order. Can you pay me a million dollars?"
Brian shook his head and sighed. “I wish I did have a million dollars, but I don’t. But as a prized Old English Sheepdog worthy of the show ring, I am sure I can make it up to you as your pet.”
Madame Illusia smiled and looked thoughtfully at him.
“Hmmm... you might have something going there for you, Brian. The services provided by a show dog both in and out of the ring could provide Stephan and me with some side venue. Not the least of which is herding the occasional sheep or goat that walks off of my stage during one of my shows.” She tells him reassuringly. “But tell me this Brian, do you truly want to give up nearly all of your human self to be a dog forever?”
Brian stopped and turned back to her, nodding silently.
" Then speak up and let the audience hear your answer!"
He tried to speak, but what emerged was a loud woof that startled both him and the audience. And when he started to cover his mouth in surprise, he surprised himself again when he raised his hands up to cover his mouth and found that his hands were now small, rounded paws covered in shaggy, white fur.
"Good answer, Brian!" The witch grinned and gestured to the stage beside her. "Come up here so that these fine folks can witness this desire of yours."
Still stunned by the sudden changes, Brian stumbled up onto the stage. He kept trying to talk, making woofs, growls and barks.
"Ah, you seem to be having some trouble with your mouth. Maybe I can help." Madame Illusia made a gesture, and the man's lips and nose darkened and swelled outward. His eyes got larger and shifted further apart as his mouth and nose pushed outward into a muzzle. His ears dropped to the sides of his head, and his hair grew thick and shaggy as it changed into a layer of white, while a cover of white and dark gray fur swept over what was now the full head of an Old English Sheepdog.
The audience laughed at him - a man with the paws and head of an Old English Sheepdog. The witch stepped back. "Rather silly looking, isn't he? And I do hate unfinished work." She gestured again, and Brian's clothes tightened around him, and then grew into a thick, shaggy fur coat. Under the thick veil of fur, Brian's eyes were now showing of contentedness , but he remained where he was.
"Now then. Some more adjustments." Madame Illusia stepped back as Brian started to lose some mass - his body became stocky and bear-like as he stood up on his hind legs. His moderate human penis and testicles shrank into the equipment of a male dog.
"Almost there." She gestured again, and Brian fell forward as his body continued to become that of a dog‘s. The audience applauded as Brian twisted around to look at himself. He appeared to be totally changed into a large Old English Sheepdog with white and dark gray markings.
Is this what you desired, my pet? You are now the best of your breed, the kind of dog that dog breeders will pay top dollar for. Two years old, jolly and yet gentle. But you now have maybe 10-12 years to live before you die of old age, not 40 or 50? So are you willing to be my sheepdog? Are you willing to do whatever I ask of you to do? Will you become a show dog? To be shown off to millions of avid dog fans around the country and herd livestock for the rest of your days? To become a stud dog and sire to countless generations of Old English Sheepdog pups? Think carefully, my pet, for once you answer there will be no turning back.”
Brian's large, shaggy head nodded up and down without a moment's hesitation.
“Very well.” Madame Illusia said as she smiled again. “I have taken away your human form. But I shall leave you a portion of your human intelligence and awareness while giving you the instincts of an Old English Sheepdog. That way, you will be a well-trained and obedient sheepdog, willing to do what I ask of you.”
You are willingly to be my pet show dog. You will live with Stephan and me in our modest home. Where we will treat you well as we see fit. And in return you will be trained for the show ring and win us money and prizes in order to pay off your debt to us. You will also be trained to herd any of our audience here who enters our service as a sheep or goat.”
As she spoke, Brian began to pant contentedly and feel more at home being Big Ben, the Madame’s prized Old English Sheepdog. He sat by his mistress’ side and happily look around at the audience, wondering if any of the audience who jeered and ridiculed him would become something for him to herd.
As if reading his half-canine mind, Madame Illusia looked over the silent audience and smiled. “Well it seems my Big Ben wants to do some herding and start earning his keep. Does anyone here want live the life of a sheep?”