Leashed Ch. 02 [Patreon, Story, Dog Girl]

Amber investigates her changes, unable to resist the heat building within

You can find my page at: https://www.patreon.com/markgraham

My whole body is alive and begging for attention and I’ve never felt anything like this.

On the bed with my blanket around my ankles, ass raised in the air, head buried in my pillow and all I can think about is the ache within.  My chest is hot.  I feel my heartbeat in the pit of my stomach, my cheeks and ears are on fire and my teeth itch and I can’t stop rubbing my tongue against the roof of my mouth because of the way it sends jolts of spiky electricity down my stomach to my pussy and OH GOD I’m so fucking wet I can feel my muscles inside, slippery and empty and the static buzzing in my ears enough to drive me mad-

I clench the bedsheets, my little claws tearing into them and the mattress below.  Shivering.  Pressing my ass back with my legs spread.  Mouth open and my tongue hot and wet against my chin.  Shaking from it.  Nipples dragging against the bed.  All of them.  Fuck.  Leaning my chest down and sliding forward to feel it against my little lower nipples like a lover’s hands against my body.  Above me, his chest on my back and his cock inside of me, pushing, opening me, telling me I’m his dirty little slut.  Grabbing my hair hard and shoving my face into the bed.

Growling, I shove my hand back and then bite at the pillow when a claw scrapes my clit.  The soft, thick bump on the bottom of my finger presses against my sex and I moan, raising my head.  In my mind’s eye, my lover pulls my head back, kneeling behind me.  Slapping my ass hard enough to make me bark in pain and pleasure and he leans forward to my ears, telling me I’m a bad girl for barking so loudly.  Bad girl.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper and the image evaporates into nothingness, leaving only the undeniable heat and the throbbing, pounding need between my legs.  “No, don’t go!  I-“

Jaw clenched, canine teeth grinding together, pussy dripping, tangling in the tan patch of fur on the inside of my thigh and my finger isn’t enough.  Not claw-tipped like I am without the time and patience to figure it out.

The nightstand!  Fumbling, I grab the top drawer and pull too hard, yanking the entire thing out.  A large flesh-colored dildo filled most of the draw alongside condoms and tissues and wet wipes.  It has veins and balls and a suction cup and I feel the drool in my mouth just staring at it.

Claws (my claws!) pierce the smooth silicone ‘flesh’ of the dildo.  My nostrils flare, straining to catch my scent and I lick my lips.  Panting.  Like a bitch.  My hard stomach flexes and I watch as I press the tip against my pussy.  I’m soaked.

Before- before all of this, I had a beautiful pussy.  Soft pink lips that barely stood out.  Cute little clit hiding just behind its hood.  It was nearly unrecognizable now.  I was open below, a hint of pink behind the black, swollen lips between my thighs.  They fold together toward the center and bulge down to a thick point.

I push the head of the dildo against my aching lips and they part wetly.   My tight new sex grips the toy greedily and I could feel each fake vein sliding inside of me.  It seemed unreal to watch it, as if happening to someone else.  Years of knowing my own body intimately and now I watch the pink dildo sliding through my black pussy lips.  Not my cute little pink pussy, no.  But swollen, pushed away from my body and glistening wetly from my excitement.

“Oh fuck,” I moan, my eyes fluttering in my head.  Despite how incredibly wet I was, I had to force it inside.  His voice whispered in my mind and I whimpered because I couldn’t hear the words.  Still, even wordless, it was frustrating and calming and sexy all at the same time.

“Spank me,” I beg, falling backward on the bed.  Blood rushed to my cheeks at the thought of his hand against me.  Strong and firm and hard against my ass, a sudden sharp pain I could feel in my teeth and thighs.  My tiny tail wiggles in sympathy and I feel the muscles moving in my lower back.  Taboo thoughts I’d kept hidden from past lovers after being shamed when I was younger.  His voice was a question in my mind and I sighed.  “P- please.”

The wrinkled texture of the dildo’s balls press against my distended pussy.  I push harder, working it up and down and enjoying the alien sensation of it. Of something teasing my velvety onyx lips.  I pull and the cock slides out.

My free hand reaches out and I grip the edge of the headboard, claws sinking into the cheap wood.  Anchoring me.  Raising my furred hips for better access. Pushing back in.  Growling in frustration when I jerk it out as my muscles clench against it.  Subconsciously trying to keep it inside.  Shoving it back in.  His hand on my wrist, holding it above my head like it was now.  Tying my hands in place  (shoving it back in, the balls slapping against my pussy) pulling against the knot until he tells me (out and in again, feeling myself open wider to try to take the balls as well) to be good (out and hard back again because I didn’t listen) and-

Snarling, twisting, panting, claws scraping slivers of wood from the creaking headboard, I cum and my tightness forces the dildo out with a wet pop.  The smell of wet fur and sex fills the room while I spasm, turning to my side to pull my knees to my chest.  Silky fur on my thighs against my breasts.  An aftershock.  Electricity along my spine and I kick my leg out and growl low and happy, running soft paws along my hard, furred body.

I don’t remember falling asleep but I wake, naked and groggy on my bed.  It feels late despite the bright overhead light and muted glow through my curtains so I reach for the nightstand where I normally keep my phone.

And freeze.

It all comes back to me in a rush as I stare at the fur on the back of my hand and the dark nails curving from the tips of my fingers.

My back feels cool and itchy.  I look down, eyes widening at the nipples and rings on my belly and down to the thick fur lining my back.  It’s stopped short of my sides but covers my lower belly and legs and oh my god I remember the heat and masturbating furiously.  A high pitched whine escapes my lips at the thought of it.  Even now, I feel the edges of it down my spine and in the back of my head.  The empty, throbbing ache.  I can feel my pussy against the bedsheets when I sit up and I slide against the soft fabric because of the silky fur covering my butt.  And, oh Jesus Christ, I can feel my freakin’ tail wagging back there!

Well, I’m no longer sleepy, that’s for sure.  My heart’s racing while I think back to- the box!  The damn nipple piercings from the box!  It takes me a second of looking to find it on the floor by the bed.  A few rings and studs glitter in the light but I ignore them in favor of the small note that came with it.

The text is hand written in a blocky text.  I bring it to my nose for a sniff and then growl.  Nothing.  And no secret messages or words hidden anywhere on it.  Just that the piercings would “fit” me.  From a secret admirer.

“Oh, you stupid girl,” I say.

If I changed after putting them on then I just need to take them off, right?

I reach for the lowest piercing on my teats.  It’s almost hidden behind chocolate colored fur but the piercing is silver and easy to spot.  My claws clink against the metal so I frown, lips bulging slightly over my canines.  I reach carefully to hold the piercing with clawed, padded hands and-

“God,” I gasp.  My clumsy fingers accidentally twist the piercing and it pulls at the nipple.  A line of pleasurable electricity lights like an old neon light straight from my nipple to my sex.  I squirm and feel a low, pulsing ache awaken within my core.  Licking my lips and nose, I hold a teat in each hand and twist.  My hips jerk back, rubbing my swollen pussy against the bed and I’m suddenly wet.  My tongue hangs from my mouth when I lean forward, digging my toes in the carpet.

It’s incredible.  My nerve centers apparently do go to 11.  I lap at my padded finger and thumb eagerly and then gently roll a different little nipple between them.  Rather than the rough texture I’d expect, the padding is soft like brand new leather and it feels like my nipple is being pampered with soft gloves.

Hackles rise on the back of my neck.  I almost hear a voice behind me but it doesn’t scare me.  It feels nice?  Something?  Looking around for the source of it, the spilled jewelry catches my eyes.

I shouldn’t.

I really shouldn’t.

“Who’s there?” I say, glancing around.  I swear I heard it again.  Tiny muscles deep within my ears twitch as they try to locate the sound.  It was warm and encouraging and male and it makes the ache deepen for just a moment.  I know I have to be imagining it but it’s a powerful feeling.

It wants me to try on more jewelry and it’s a powerful compulsion.  I’m moving automatically, off the bed and crouched before I realize what I’m doing.  Down low with my knees wide, my pussy opens.  The smell of my sex hits me and the steady ache begins to throb.

I want to touch myself. To drag my claws along my sides until I’m begging for him to take me.  To make me sit and wait for him to-  I blush and kneel, paws on my thighs, back straight.  At attention.  The voice.  I remember it now.  From when I masturbated.  It slips through my memory when I try to focus on it but I’ve placed it now. 

A large ring lays near my knee.  I bare my teeth at it and wrinkle my nose.  What would it feel like?  Would it change me more? It doesn’t hurt.  No.  It sure the hell doesn’t hurt.  I’ve never been this sensitive in my life and that orgasm was incredible.

Careful of my claws, I pick the ring up.  My heart is racing.  It’s a- a torc, I think the word is.  A miniature torc of twisted silver chain links.  A toe ring, I’m sure.  I sit back with my knees up, holding it up to the big toe on my left foot.  It could fit.  It could easily fit my toe.

It’s there.  He’s there.  I close my eyes and raise my head with a tilt but when I open, there’s nothing and I’m left feeling empty. 

Before I can change my mind, I slip the ring over my big toe and wait, holding my breath. 


I’m almost disappointed.  Aside from the warmth in my stomach and chest, nothing has changed.  Well, now I just feel dumb.  But, the ring is surprisingly pretty.  I have piercings but never tried toe rings.  I like the way the feels on my foot, cool and shiny and against my skin

Pawing through the other jewelry, I find two smaller toe rings.  All metal this time with swooping lines inscribed on the outside and inside of the band. 

Why should I stop now?  Spreading the toes on my left foot, I pick the one next to the pinky toe and tug it on.  Still nothing.  I huff out a sigh and then slip the third ring over the long toe on my right foot.

It’s immediate and I gasp and grind my teeth, grabbing my foot and then yelping when my claws bite into the skin.  A cold sweat flushes down my body, chased by a wave of heat.  It pools into the bottom of my foot and I can see small brown hairs sprouting from the backs of my toes. 

I massage my sole carefully, groaning as the soft padding on my hand presses into the arch and ball of my foot.  Holding my ankle, I rub the entire palm of my hand from heel to toes over and over.  It feels incredibly sensitive, dancing on the knife edge of ticklish and pleasurable.

Releasing my ankle, I dig booth feet into the shaggy bedroom carpet, sliding them around while flexing my toes.  Light brown fur is growing from the top of my feet.  I can feel the hairs pressing together as they push forth from my skin.  As fascinating as that is, it pales to the sensations of the long strands of my shaggy carpet flowing around every inch of my soft, pink feet.

The fur spreading on my foot tangles with the thick threads, dragging at them.  Adding to the sensuality of the movement.  I turn my foot and spread my toes to try and get every little bit of contact I can.  I barely even notice that I’m rocking my hips back and forth with my chest pushed out.  I point my furred toes into the carpet, digging and then arching them back before sliding my foot back again.

One hand claws at my leg lightly, closer and closer to my sex while the other massages my breast.  Squeezing and pressing and flicking the chain on the nipple ring.

I can’t stop running my tongue along my teeth and the roof of my mouth and I feel an undeniable urge rising in me.  Tempting me.  I grab my foot with a quiet growl and lick along the soft, pink skin along my sole.  My wide, long tongue is rough and sends pleasurable chills along my spine and furth down.  Deep between my thighs.

Again and again I lap the skin until my tongue drags along the ball of my foot.  I huff and pull back.  There’s a broad patch of dark pink skin covering the ball of my foot.  More lavender colored spots form beneath my toes.  The skin distends on my sole and toes, pink fading to grey and then to a dusky coal color that absorbs the light.  I whine and lick at the padding while my ears try to twitch back.  The bumps are smooth on my tongue but I can feel how solid it’s becoming beneath them.  It’s weird and I growl and bite at the skin for a second before licking them.

My tongue slips between my toes, wet and hot against the delicate webbing.  I whine, hold my foot and spread my toes wider, shoving my tongue in the soft, clean gaps while swirling and sucking on each of them.  The contrast of pad and skin and fur is intoxicating.  There’s static at the back of my head again and my face feels flushed.

Something moves beneath my toes so I pull my foot from my mouth, lashing at it with my tongue to clean the excess spit.  I have to force myself to suck my tongue back into my mouth.  It’s just too large and feels weird to keep it inside.  I can’t stop drooling when I do it but I try to remember.

The first joint of my toes shifts and moves and the tips swell.  My pink toenails fold into points and I feel something connect to them beneath the skin.  They thrust forward and I see the clear parts of the nail darken.

I flexed my clawed, furred new paws in my hands and feel nothing short of amazement tinged with excitement and a slow burning pleasure.

My fur is still growing but, just below the knee I see it darken and black fur begin to mix in, flowing up to match the fur on my thighs. 

I run my hand through my new fur.  No.  I stroke myself, padded hands gliding through sleek, short fur.  I watch the fur shift on my thigh and calves in tiny waves just as little cramps wrack my body.  I hiss, clenching my fanged mouth shut and clamp my hands on my thighs.  My finger traces toned, hardened muscle beneath the black and tan fur and my calves bulge when I flex my foot. 

When the tiny needling pain subsides, I pull myself up, eager to see the new changes.  My body pitches forward slightly and I go to the balls of my feet to compensate.  My claws bite into the carpet and I feel my strong legs flex and tense to compensate.  I turn in front of the mirror, hands at my hips, smiling at my cute little tail.  As if in response to the attention, it begins to lengthen and I can feel the bones and muscles growing under the skin.  Black fur sprouts forth with each new inch and it curls slightly to rest against my back.  It tickles and then begins to whip back and forth.  Wagging properly.

God it feels so damn good.

Like a kid with new shoes, I stalk around the room, glancing at myself in the mirror with each turn.  It felt a little like walking in extraordinarily comfortable high heels and I grin at the thought of running like this.  Claws striking the concrete while my padding and muscles absorb the impact.  Tail tall and proud behind me, twisting and turning to keep my movements steady.  Air through my fur, racing faster and faster until he calls me back to his side and tells me to sit next to him.  Going to my knees while he scratches down the fur along my neck and bends to kiss me.  And-

Blinking, I stumble against the wall.  I’m panting.  Hot and whining and my legs are trembling slightly.  I need more.  More of this.  More of the heat building within.  More changes.  I fall to the floor, yelping as my tail slams the wall.

“Not- not used to- to it yet,” I gasp. 

Leaning forward, knees bent, I lap at the fur on my feet and between my toes.  My hand snakes between my thighs, the claw-tipped finger slipping between the lips.  Piercing myself.  The nail drags against the slick muscles inside and I grind my teeth, head bowed.

The dildo lies on the floor at the foot of the bed.  I grab it and stand comfortably on the pads of my feet.  Stalking to the bathroom, I slam the dildo down so it flattens against the suction cup at the base.  It wobbles briefly and then is erect.  I groan at the sight of it and kneel, pushing my furred ass back against it.  Feeling it press between my cheeks and my pussy.

I reach back, grabbing it and holding it steady while my tongue hangs from my mouth.  It almost hurts to push myself down on it.  I’m so fucking tight now.  The lips bulge and open and I rock back, impaling myself onto the cock.  Bringing myself back, almost all the way off so I can feel it opening me again.  And then down.

My feet and toes curl behind me and my slick fur keep slipping on the linoleum.  I lean forward, hands on the ground.  Imagining him beneath me.  Hands on my breasts and teats and ass.  Pulling on my tail.  Pulling on my short hair.  Pulling me down against him hard enough that I nip at his shoulder and then lick his neck in apology.  I dig my claws into the carpet outside the bathroom, flexing my body to ride the dildo.  Feeling the pressure building in my stomach.  The electricity crackling.

Leaning back, I spread my ass, groaning at the feeling of sharp claws in my skin.  Pain mixing with pleasure.  Bouncing wetly against the floor.  Feeling myself spread open again and again, wider and wider against the dildo’s balls.  Growling and grunting and groaning until it’s too much and the orgasm hits me hard.  I go to my knees and forearms, shaking and snarling, the dildo deep inside.  Too afraid to move from over stimulation.

He’s behind me.  Petting me.  Talking me through the earth-shattering orgasm.  I cry out, head raised and push back, once, twice before twisting away. Trembling and clawing at the ground with my hands and feet.  Panting and groaning and whining while the muscles within me tense over and over.

It takes years before the buzzing clears.  Before I can think again.  Before I can move.  I crawl back to the bedroom on hands and knees, resting against the bed.  My chest raising and falling while I calm.  My legs and fur are slick with my juices and the entire room is thick with my scent.

The pieces of jewelry are beside me.  I focus on them and it helps bring me down slowly.

Six spiked studs and four connected rings.  I have small diamond studs in her earlobes and five pierced holes along the tops of my ears.  Room for three spikes and two rings in each.  A single, tiny half-circle nose ring lay mixed in with the others.  I count them again and again until I feel safe enough to move.

I’m not stopping now.

My dresser has a huge mirror and a padded chair.  I sit carefully and the pads of my feet rub together.  They couldn’t always be this sensitive, could they?  Holy crap.

The jewelry clinks against the dresser.  It’s extremely awkward to hold one of the small spiked studs in my fingers but I find that if I use the very tip of the finger, just under the claw, I can do it.  It takes more dexterity to unscrew it but I do.

Leaning forward, I see my ears are changed.  They’re bulged up at the top and the holes for my piercings have moved slightly.  The tips flick impatiently while I watch and I push them forward to see dark fur lining the back. I lay the stud and backing down and look closer.

The fur matches my short, raven black hair.  My throat and chest are bare but the back of my neck is coated in dense black fur, almost unruly compared to the short coat along my back.

I blush at the sudden, intense image of him standing behind me, steadying hand on my shoulder while he brushes me.  Brushes my fur.  Stopping sometimes to kiss my neck and back and shoulder and then running fingers through my short, pixie haircut.  Pulling at the tips over my brow and digging his fingers into the soft, short on over my temples.  I trace a finger along the fur and into my hair and up, around my ear.

I can almost feel him behind me, repeating the gesture.  Proud of me.  How good I look.  What a good girl I was being.  I began to turn but catch myself.  More.

It takes a minute to pick up the stud but I finally do and I carefully insert it, twisting the back into place.  Two more follow that one and then I take the chained ring.  They’re two spiked collar rings, connected with a chain and one is larger than the other.  I’m getting used to my hands now so it’s easier to undo their studs.  I set the smaller one above the larger one and shake my head to watch the chain swing lightly between them.

The mirror shows an almost unrecognizable face.  Even without fur, my lips bulge to contain my tongue and teeth and the very tips of my canines are showing.  I wipe a bit of drool from the corner of my mouth and then open it slightly, letting my tongue out.  The brown of my eyes almost matches the brown fur on my legs and feet and tummy.  My chest is still bare skin, down to the second row of my teats but I see tan peach fuzz along my hard stomach.

Whoa.  I sit straight and my stomach muscles stand out.  I’ve been working forever to try for hard abs but never seemed to get to that point.  Looking back up, I see the spikes in my ears and I flash my sharp teeth.

Goddamn, I look amazing.  Fierce and strong.  I bark out a laugh and then grin at myself, pulling my lips back again to see the large fangs.  It takes no time at all to add the studs to my other ear.  I don’t even notice what I’m doing different with my hands anymore; they just seem to automatically adjust for finer work now.

So then I sit with the chained rings.  Looking myself in the eyes.  Wondering how far this would bring me.  Wanting it.  Wanting to see what I’d look like and how I’d feel.  The first ring attaches quickly and the second follows with a brief pause. 

At first nothing happens but then I feel pressure in my ears.  My eyes roll up in my head and I sway as the room tilts.  I have to steady myself with my hands on the edge of the dresser but it passes. 

My ears are moving on my head.

“Yesssss,” I pant happily.  It feels like someone scratching deep inside my years while also giving me a head massage.

Almost imperceptible crunching follows the movement while they travel higher and, as they do, they stretch and unfold, flaring out at the bottom.  Further they slid through my obsidian hair and I shiver at the feeling of hair and skin scraping together.  The pink skin within begins to show brown spots until the entire inside is a light muddy color.  The studs have moved forward to the front of my ears while the connected chains shifted to the backs.  I lean forward and muscles deep in my head tense, forcing my ears back into what I could only call “at attention”.  Or maybe anxious?  I focus, biting my lip and soon, I find the right – whatever, to make them move at will.

A car passes loudly in the streets and my ears snap upwards, trembling.  I can almost hear the man talking in his vehicle and I even recognize the song playing on his radio. Other sounds begin to come to me.  People in other apartments and outside.  Talking, laughing, yelling, arguing and at least one couple fucking.  I will not lie; it turns me on a bit to hear.

The nose ring sits alone at the center of the dresser.  I lick my nose and lips.

This was it, wasn’t it?

I can feel my heart starting to beat faster and, with it, nerves awakening yet again.  The heat had died down after my time in the bathroom but it was coming again and harder now, the more I stared at the little half-ring.

My hand trembles slightly when I take it.  From nervousness.  From the heat building within.  From the desire to see what more could happen.  What other changes would come and how they would make me feel?  Whoever had sent the gifts knew me surprisingly well. I always took my piercings out for runs and sometimes at work but they all matched what I needed.  Exactly the right amount.

It was a simple golden band and I put it on before I lost my nerve.  My eyes watered for a moment from an accidental poke inside my nose but I find the right spot and screw it in. 

A sliver of amber in my left eye.  As if the iris cracked.  Dirt brown showing gold beneath the surface.  Another.  More.  It was hard to look away despite feeling an intense itch along my mouth.  My brown eyes turned to honey.  Amber.  Like my name.

I scratch idly at my lips and nose and sneeze and then lick my nose with my long tongue.  All the years spent plucking but now I have a mustache.  Small brown hairs line my red-stained lips.  More hairs sprout up to my cheeks and eyes.  Darker there.  Black.  I can’t stop touching them.  Soft and slick and-

Pain in my jaw.  I snarl, lips back and vibrating over my sharp teeth.  My lips were stretching.  No.  My face was moving.  Pushing forward.  My ears are back and I want to lay my head down until it passes but I force myself to watch.  Ink fills my lips, flowing up to my nose as bones reshape around my face.

Growing my muzzle.

More fur presses through the skin around my neck and moves slowly down my chest.  I shiver when it reaches my breasts and then sigh and wriggle my hips as it swarms them.  The black lightens to chocolate brown below my chest, matching the color of my belly.  It creeps slowly downward, tickling my teats until my stomach is completely covered.

The heat intensifies sharply.  I gasp and claw my thighs, hands trembling to touch myself.  But not yet.  I need to finish this, despite the buzzing between my tall ears and the throbbing in my guts.  I want to be ready for him.  Complete.  I’m a good girl.  I could almost sense him behind me again, scratching me behind my ears.  Almost.  I’m a good girl.

New teeth grow from the gaps in my elongating muzzle but I’m more interested as the black from my lips consumes my nose.  With a loud pop, my jaw shoves forward, pulling my nose back.  Everything’s fuzzy.  I think my eyes have moved.  A little.  I lean forward again.  Focus.  Blinking.  Slowly, slowly it all comes back sharp and clear.  I can even see the little pebbles covering my wet nose.

I sneeze again.  And cough and growl and it all stops. 

My face is heavy.  Muzzle.  My muzzle is heavy.  My nose is surrounded by tan fur but my face is covered in black, aside from an interesting spray of brown eyebrow… hair?  Fur?  What was the difference anymore?

I stand back and look at myself.  At my complete self.  My black fur shines beautifully in the light.  I am beautiful.  Strong.  Sleek.  I wanted to run and jump and-

And fuck.  I press a paw against the tan fur on my stomach and moan.  Turn.  Look over my shoulder at my wide hips and broad, furred ass.  My tail wags slowly and, bending slightly, I could see the bulge of my dusky pussy lips.  I crawl to the bed and he’s there behind me in my mind’s eye, stroking my back.  Down to my ass.  Cupping and squeezing the cheek before reaching back to slap it.  I moan again and bow and present myself to the image of him.  Spreading my legs.  Head down and ears back, muzzle to the bed.

Waiting for a command.  Feeling the emptiness of him deep inside me.  Of his presence.

My eyes open.  The upturned box was at an angle, laying on top of something that glowed in the light.  I reach and pull the box away.

A necklace, dotted with studs, lay beneath the box.  It was covered in amber gemstones on a expensive looking black leather band. 

“No,” I say, the words thick in my muzzle.  That’ll take some getting used to.

It was a collar.  My collar.  My lips pull back into an odd grin as I reach for it. 

I am a good girl, I think to myself with a happy smile.

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