Leashed Ch. 03

Perched over the side of the bed while staring down at the collar, an absurd image suddenly takes root in my head. All I can picture is Gollum in Lord of the Rings, reaching out for the eponymous Ring itself.

Precioussss, the creature in my head croons and, suddenly, the mood shifts and I roll as a giggle fit overtakes me.

Despite being alone, I reach for my mouth to hide my smile and laughter but my hand bumps into the side of my muzzle. And it just makes me laugh louder because now I'm picturing my dainty little hand- paw- I don't know. Hand, I guess? Anyway, my hand at the very tip of my long muzzle. Not covering my lips or anything. Just my nose and the front of my mouth and the corners of my lips curled up.

I squirm in bed as laughter turns to chortles. My tail rests awkwardly against my back but when I move, it feels good. Like someone scratching my scalp lightly.

Can I smile? Note to self - check later.

Fur drags against hair as my ears twist and part my hair like the fin of a shark terrorizing a dark sea. It makes me want to fix my hair since years of being human have taught me that that sensation means messy hair needing some attention and fixing.

Ah.

Oh. Okay.

Laying on my back traps my tail. It rests against the glossy tan fur on the inside of my thigh. My hips lift in a small motion, left to right and left to right again until I frown and gently gnaw on the inside of my lip. Once more they lift and I focus harder.

There.

I tense a new strange muscle in the middle of my back and my tail moves, pressing against my left thigh and then my right. A slow smile spreads over my furred face as my mouth opens and the corners of my lips draw upwards. It feels good to move it. Really-

Oh. That's why. It was pressing against my pussy and now it's flicking against it. Gently and slowly like a lover teasing you before foreplay. The hairs are nearly as soft as a feather until the tips needle into my sensitive flesh. And now that I'm conscious of it, I can feel the swollen lips against my thighs, warm and soft and covered in my drying cum. Dull and stiff compared to the sleek hairs further away. Trapping my scent.

I roll again and then shudder, bowing my head as my ears lance back. The sheets tug at the piercings covering my teats and nipples, twisting them until they beg for attention. Worse, the chain between my breasts catches and pulls, forcing me to moan. I'd dreamed of being treated roughly and now it's like a lover's pinching and pulling my nipples. My entire body grows tense and I grab at the bed.

Dull, dark claws threaten to cut the sheets as my ass slowly lifts and my tail curls up.

He's there again as a low throbbing beats like distant taiko drums, steady and rhythmic. That presence. The phantom lover teasing me with long repressed fetishes. My breath out is long and ragged as I picture him drawing me up by the hips, strong hands holding me in place. Dominant. Fingers dug in. A hand going to the middle of my back to hold my chest down. Fingers clenching against the more dense black fur along the nape of my neck and between my shoulders.

I have to-

I have to move. I want it so bad that it scares me.

Instead of giving in and masturbating, I push forward, denying myself and the specter the pleasure. Of course, that's a mistake as, once more, all eight of my nipples drag against the bed. I continue forward with a groan, placing a thickly padded paw on the floor next to the collar. My hips rotate right-left-right-left-right as my tail wags behind me. I try to steady it, focusing on that muscle I'd found earlier but it resists. Instead, I place my right hand down.

My short fur glides over the sheets on the bed as I pull myself forward, bending slightly shortened fingers to dig into the carpet for support. Out of curiosity, and 90% because I can, I use my claws alone to pull my body. I feel the bones within pull apart as the curved, dense obsidian nails dig in and I continue to move.

When my thigh slides free, I bend my leg and touch my foot to the ground, once more using my toe claws while balancing on the tips of my toes. Finally, my other foot comes down and I place my palms to the floor and lean forward in an exhilarating full body stretch. The chain connecting my piercings dangles beneath me, swaying gently while reminding me of its presence.

A new impulse makes me shake side-to-side after the stretch and it surprises me loud enough that I bark. Which forces my ears to angle backward. It was impulsive, loud and sudden but felt right in the moment. An involuntary response that worries me.

Finished stretching, I pull myself up to stand on the balls of my feet. My heel dips, touching the floor before raising once more. The padding makes walking flat-footed impossible now, despite the still-human shape of my feet.

I can hear the apartments around me now that I'm not so inwardly focused. Television shows filled with explosions and gunshots, clinking silverware on plates that carry tantalizing smells, faint music and loud, passing cars. The world is alive beyond my tiny bedroom. We grow up believing we're the center of our own universe but as I stand naked in my bedroom, I feel connected to all of it, drowning in sounds and scents of everyone else living their lives.

I'm panting, tongue hanging free as anxiety grips my heart with a firm fist. I feel like I'm losing myself as the noises threaten to overwhelm me. A soft whimper escapes my lips and my tail curls down, pressing against the back of my thighs. I need to run. It's my escape and always has been when the weight of the world presses against my shoulders.

And then my eyes open and I see myself in the mirror.

Taller now, on wide paws covered in tan fur that becomes glossy ink higher on my shins. The tip of my tail is between my calves, soft and firm as it trembles slightly between my legs, mirroring my anxiety. It feel it over the curve of my ass. It's a strange warm and comforting presence that'll take some getting used to.

The short fur covering my belly does nothing to hide the small teats lining my stomach, especially with the piercings capping them. I stare at them for longer than I should, licking my lips when I feel them stir at my inspection, threatening to harden despite the lack of touch. Higher still to my breasts, pert but visible through the fur. Now I can't help myself. I gently cradle the bottom of one, rubbing my soft, leathery padding along the silky black fur. The larger nipple ring shifts at my touch, pulling and pushing the few strands of black fur that touch it. Hairs lift and flatten as the chain raises slightly.

My ears angle outward, twisting to focus downard and the metallic chiming of my earrings sounds louder than they should. I stare mischievously to the side, glancing away from my reflection as my paw squeezes and a happy growl vibrates low in my throat. The short, sharp fur digs into the sensitive skin surrounding them.

No, bad, I tell myself, dragging my hand away.

Dark amber eyes search my face but I have a moment of feeling disconnected from myself. It's not me. It can't be me. This long, black muzzle tipped with chocolate fur and thick black lips barely hiding sharp fangs can't be my mouth.

Taking a few steps, I stare into my own eyes. Soft black eyebrows are mixed into the fur over my face yet, for whatever reason, there are two brown blobs of fur above them near the inside of my eyes. I swallow and then watch as my tongue unfurls, impossibly wide and long as it flops wetly against my nose and then down over my incisors.

Whiskers? I ask myself while touching a claw above my lips. They're short and black and barely visible over the sandy colored fur but the holes surrounding them are obvious. I stroke one carefully and then step back while shaking my head. My short haircut bounces, tickling my ears and forcing them to twitch in annoyance.

Reaching up, I grab my ear before it twists away. It's velvety soft and surprisingly thick in my fingers. And, oh gosh, yes, it feels good to just rub it. My padding scratches against the thin hairs lining the backs and the brown skin within. I groan, closing my eyes as I grab more of my ear to knead it between my fingers and palm.

My leg jumps, tapping at the floor when my claw randomly scratches at the base of my ear. I moan, free hand against the wall to hold myself up while scratching myself hard. And harder. Faster and faster as my leg tap-tap-tap-tap-taps against the floor until I sigh heavily and let my ear go.

God. I just want to slide my hands down my body and curl up in bed until-

My claws catch and tear at threads in the carpet when I turn sharply. I feel the cold of the toe rings through the tan fur covering my feet but what I don't feel is itchy and that surprises me since I'm basically covered in dog fur.

The thought makes my lips curl up in a smile. Me, nude and human but coated in random dog hairs as if I'd rolled around in them.

Hackles rise whine whispers fill my ears. I growl, baring fangs with my ears back as I turn, crouched with claws out to the side. But, nothing. There's nothing there.

"I need to get out of here," I tell myself, scratching the unruly mane of fur covering the back of my neck

Now the question remains: how?

Even without putting on clothes, I can see and feel the difference in my muscles. And not just my coveted hardened abs. Worse-

I turn and bend forward slightly with my legs spread. My black-furred ass cheeks spread to show my swollen, bulging pussy lips. And because I'm a glutton for punishment and torturing myself, I lean forward more, muzzle turned to the side to stare as my folded lips part to show pink within. My tail begins to wag slowly back and forth as a warmth gathers in my neck to spread down my body.

The whisper returns. I reach back, padded paw against my ass cheek to pull it to the side. My claws dig in, pinching and pulling fur and skin. Watching my pussy open wider. Feeling myself grow wet. Smelling it. The sharp fragrance winding its way up to my sensitive nose and making me drool. Seeing it. Clenching the muscles within and watching them grow slick. Seeing a bead of cum form and flow outward, moving from glistening pink muscles within to black lips before dripping down to dangle between my legs. Snapping and dripping to the ground.

He's there again in my mind. Against my back. Arms wrapped around my chest, right hand on my left breast. Easily cupping my small chest in his hand. Left hand low on my belly, between my bottom teats with fingers curved down to my pussy. Hot breath on my ears.

No. No, no, no.

I gasp and whine, ears down as I stand and press my thighs together. My heart races beneath my chest and I can't stop licking my lips. Not "tongue around the lips in an overly exaggerated sexually suggestive way" but just licking the front of my muzzle and nose as I struggle to force the thought of masturbating out of my mind.

Clothes. I just need to put on clothes. My tail wags, reminding me how potentially screwed I am in this regard. A quick glimpse through my closed window shades tells me it's surprisingly late in the evening so I start to put a plan together.

Crouching down beside my bed, my tail gently thumps the ground, distracting me by the way it pulls at my body as well as the alien sensation of a new appendage hitting something solid, like a reverse phantom limb. It feels like something's touching my butt except far away from my body.

Ignoring my tail, I dig around and my claws latch onto a fabric handle for a large plastic bag. I grunt, expecting a struggle but my legs aren't the only part of me stronger than I remember. The bag slides through the mess beneath my bed and I flip it over, tapping the vacuum sealed plastic until I spot my winter running clothes.

With a happy little yip, my tail thump-thump-thumps into the ground, forcing me to look over my shoulder until I realize that I'm making the sound.

One of my claws hooks into the little hole in the zipper and I pull it open, wrinkling my nose at the smell of old, stored clothes. There's a not-quite-image-in-my-head that's interesting. I get an urge to roll around on the bag and I even feel myself starting to do it but I hold myself back and grab my sweats and hoodie instead. That urge to mark my own clothing is such a weird sensation. A- a "pre thought" or something, I'm not sure what to call it. Something new that appeared before I even had time to think it through and it makes sense and feels like it's always made sense.

A quick trip to my dresser has me pawing through haphazardly stored panties, skipping over plain briefs until I find a pair of high cut black briefs. I'll need the space for my thicker legs. As careful as possible, I step into them and pull up, biting at the inside of my lips as it drags against my fur the entire way. Half-way up my thighs, I'm worried they won't fit anymore. They're tighter but I work my hips and pull and ignore the way they press against my pussy.

Woof.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, I pull the plain gray sweats on, rolling to my back with my legs up to slide them legs. As with my panties, the band drags at my fur as it moves counter to them and that pulls at the skin beneath them, making me shiver and writhe until they stop mid-thigh. My wider paws (feet!) and dull claws catch on the leg openings so I roll forward to pull them over my swollen toes and padding.

A new problem arises when I stand and tug them the rest of the way. I'm apparently taller than before. The waistband for the sweats ride low on my hips while the banded cuffs rest higher on my shins.

I can make it work, though. It'll be-

My tail wags behind me, reminding me once more that it exists and I hang my head with a sigh. It's almost taunting me. Look at me, haha! Everyone will see me, haha! I snap my teeth, try to grab it, miss when it whips back and then grab it and hold it tight while it tries to pull out of my hand. I pull the sweats out and shove the tail in, trapping it down one of the pant legs and then chuff, narrowing my eyes at the disobedient thing before reaching down for my hoodie.

I pause mid-grab and look through the window once more and then down my body.

"No, that's foolish," I say out loud but, still, I consider it.

If I wore just a sports bra, would anyone be able to see that I was covered in fur? Would anyone be able to see my little sexy teats?

The hint of a whisper again. Pure, faint emotion more than words. It feels like- like- what is that? A mixture of humor. Something almost like it's egging me on. With fingers that tremble slightly, I unhook the chain between my nipples and lay it on top of my dresser.

The mirror in the corner of my room reflects the stranger once more. Pure honey eyes look back at me. Sleek and black but for tan markings along my forearms, feet and the tip of my muzzle. Ludicrously long ears standing tall through my short black hair, edged with rings and studs.

Six piercings shine brightly along my stomach beneath the two on my nipples and just the sight of them excites me. My teats peek out through the glossy fur. I can't fool myself; they're visible if you glance my way. But, worse, my ears are like radar dishes and there's no way they'd pass even a casual look.

I grab the hoodie and pull it on, shaking my head to settle my hair and then reaching up to stroke my ears, squeezing them before pulling back on them. Finally, I flip up the hood. The little tan dots of fur over my eyebrows pull towards each other as I give an approximation of a frown. My muzzle is visible and my ears dent the fabric.

The sweats are uncomfortably hot. They're an extra layer over my pelt and it traps my body heat. My breathing quickens, black nostrils opening and closing as my tongue lolls and I pant.

A whine passes my lips before lowering to a sigh. I shouldn't go. I won't be able to pass. My tail curls as I pace, frustrated and full of energy after my nap and being cooped up all day.

Oh god, how will I go to work? I think, freezing in place as my tail thrashes. How will I do anything that needs me to go out or deal with people?

Suddenly it all crashes down and my brain is buzzing, racing as it tries to comprehend every scenario I'll have to deal with in this body. My eyes widen and my ears lay flat to my sides as I think of my parents and then work and then driving and then-

I shut my mind off like a robot, forcing myself to think of absolutely nothing at all. My claws tug at my sweats, forcing them down. The silky fur helps this time and I quickly step out of them and go to a different drawer in my dresser. A variety of jogging shorts lay in a jumble. I grab without thinking and bend over, slipping my wide paw into the shorts. The expandable fabric bulges around my feet and muscular legs as I work them up my body, stopping for a moment to lay my twitching tail against my thighs before continuing to pull up, trapping the tail inside the shorts.

Surrounded by the black fur on my waist, the sable shorts vanish. Less than half of my tail is visible and it taps my legs angrily. I watch it for a bit, feeling the muscle moving in my lower back but with the base held down, it seems like it can't move much.

And it's enough for me.

I walk to my door, grab my shoes and then huff when my feet don't fit. I almost abandon them and run barefooted until I remember the shoes I bought over a year ago when I twisted my ankle during another night run. After a few growling curses, I find them in my hallway closet - a pair despite only needing one slightly larger shoe to handle the swelling. They're still tight due to my padding and swollen toes needed to anchor my claws but at least they fit. I undo the laces to the bottom and then tie them loosely and nod.

Stretching before my front door shows yet another problem. Despite the fur, the hoodie rubs against my teats and nipples. Worse, the pierces twist the nipples when I move, edging the line between pain and pleasure. I sigh and my ears brush against the inside of my hoodie as they lower. Grabbing the bottom of the sweatshirt, I pull it up to my mouth and bite to hold it in place. The drawer in the small table by the front door holds a variety of crap and one of them is a roll of white tape. It's normally reserved for long runs of runs in the heat but I'll need some now to hold everything in place.

Eight small sticky pieces of tape, one after another. I part the hair around the black teats and carefully apply the tape to cover nipple and piercing until all are hidden and I drop my hoodie, licking my nose and lips in satisfaction.

Finally, I grab my keys and step into the hallway. Running has always been my escape from the world around me. Out in the world with my earbuds in, I can ignore everything and just let the sidewalk stretch out in front of me. I can't and won't lock myself away. I'll miss my music but I'll want to hear everything around me anyway.

I know nobody's there because I can't hear anyone outside. I can hear muffled voices of people inside their own apartments but not the echoing conversations of people outside.

Thoughts try to intrude but I ignore them, turning and locking the door and walking away. My ears are independently alert, twisting and turning. They pull at my scalp and push hair aside beneath the hood as they listen for everything around me.

An intoxicating rush of smells surrounds me. So much food, good and bad. Spicy scents that make my mouth water and the alluring aroma of cooked meat that makes me grind my teeth. Unfortunately, the giant trash bins outside interject and I gag, ears flat with a furred forearm against my nose. The cars and trucks passing in the darkness beyond the apartment complex are no better with the eye-watering chemical trails they leave in their passing.