Office Bitch Ch. 04

A tiny amount of the now cold coffee has spilled over the edge of my cup. Dark brown rings surround the bottom of the mug as if created from a caffeinated Spirograph rather than my nervous fiddling.

My monitor dims but I push my cordless mouse while distracting myself by staring at the spilled drink. I should get a coaster.

I rest my fingers against the bottom edge of the mouse to keep my computer from falling asleep and my attention is drawn to the motion. The back of my hand is hairless. My nails are - no, I was about to say they were as perfectly manicured as always but they aren't.

The plastic backing of the mouse is smooth against my fingers. I rub it slowly while continuing to stare at my hand.

My fingernails are pointed rather than broad and flat. They narrow almost immediately from the tip of my finger until they end in a rounded point. I flex and they scratch nearly soundlessly against the plastic.

The sight of it makes me breathe out and raise my chin slightly due to the heated thoughts of dragging my claws along Michael's body. Although it's difficult to remember things once I've begun to change, it appears I've retained more than the first time. My nails aren't my claws. I can see those in my mind's eye, the black tips emerging from beneath my nails. My fingernails just painlessly fall away at some point but apparently regrow when I revert.

Why would they regrow into mockeries of my claws?

I move in my chair when my swollen pussy rubs against the luxurious padded seat. I can feel my thighs pressing against the sides of those strange, folded lips.

Sneaking a quick glance at the door, I slide my hips forward and reach down, hooking my faux claws into the bottom of the skirt to hike them up to my hips before spreading my legs.

A single string of white cum has leaked from my pussy and I can't stop the rumbling at the back of my throat or the way my lips pull back to show my teeth while my little button nose crinkles. I breathe deeply and sigh but it turns into a quiet whine instead.

Spreading my legs further forces my pussy to open slightly and the scent nearly overpowers me.

Black hairs slowly pierce the bridge of my nose. They begin a quarter of an inch away from the rounded tip - just where the skin would grow rough. To prove my point, tiny dark cracks appear around my nostrils. They travel upwards haltingly, ending where the hair begins. The smooth skin is pebbled now, and darker. I swallow and my mouth feels too full. When I open my mouth, my tongue hangs slightly between my lips. Wide and thick, I can feel it laying against my bottom canines.

There's a wet spot at the back of my skirt where I was sitting on it. Large and irregular shaped. Despite the time that's passed, I'm still wet and aching from the need to be filled.

My pussy glistens. I want to touch myself so badly. Instead, I try to hold my breath and lean forward, bending my knees to stare at myself. To see how I've changed. The movement drags the band of my skirt against two of my teats and the mouse creaks when I clench my fist and dig my pointed nails into the plastic. My lower nipples are ridiculously sensitive.

I want-

I want Michael to touch me there.

A sudden image fills my mind and I lean back with a moan, licking my nose while my hand trembles over the mouse. In my thoughts, I'm on all fours. Human. In bed. Michael is under me. I'm lowering myself and raising my ass, lower and lower until my breasts press into the bed above Michael's head. His warm lips touch one of my teats and he raises his arms, grabbing my ass with one hand and my back with the other as his mouth opens and he suckles from me. It's the lowest on my belly, close to my pussy.

But I can't picture what it feels like and it's incredibly frustrating.

God. But it's not even- I shouldn't even- It's not right. Still, the urge is deeply ingrained within me now and the thought of him sucking on one of them, his hand wandering between my thighs-

My breath is ragged when I exhale. I shake my head, lick my lips and try to focus. My entire body feels itchy and warm and I'm on edge.

Between my thighs, more of Michael's cum has leaked forth. I carefully bring my hand down. It shakes once. My lips draw back to show too-sharp teeth and a blackened nose with nostrils more forward than down. Black and tan hairs creep up from my nose and between my eyebrows to fan out over my forehead.

I normally trim my pubic hair but it's grown back thick. My eyes dart to the lone office chair and gray hairs emerge from my shoulders. Two of my teats, each on opposite sides of my stomach and on different... rows? Sets? God. Two of them harden as my skirt brushes against them and electric little pulses flash down my spine.

I need to keep calm. I breathe slowly. Slowly. Focusing on inhaling and exhaling through my mouth as if I were holding a pose in yoga class.

That makes me laugh but it's not an entirely happy laugh. I'll never be able to go to a class again. I can see myself in tight clothes with my pussy perfectly outlined for all to see. And my tiny little extra nipples. Not really any good way to hide any of that.

Hairs retreat as I exert control but it's incredibly difficult. I sneeze when cartilage shifts in my nose but my tongue still reaches to the tip.

My hand brushes through the tangled curls of my thick, unruly pubic hair. The skin bulges slightly around my labia. A few curls grow down between my legs but the hairs straighten the further they go and they mix with the tan and gray hairs growing forth. Michael's cum tangles with the light fur surrounding my sex and it traps the smell. Tiny black hairs emerge from my thighs at the corner of my vision.

The lips- my pussy lips- they're thick as if engorged and dusky, textured compared to surrounding skin. Folded together and pushed away from my body. I can't see my clit or the hood that used to cover it. The lips meet in the middle and twist together ever so slightly.

It's so alien. Granted, I don't often stare at my pussy but I know what it looks like and this- this is just wrong. Is this what female dogs have? It must be, right?

My teeth scrape as my nostrils flare to take in his scent. I touch myself carefully with my left hand and gasp at the unexpected sensitivity.

"Shit," I whisper, eyes wide. I'd somehow thought they'd be tougher than before, with less feeling but they aren't.

I shouldn't be doing this but I can't stop myself. My nails drag through growing hair and I cup them, scooping up his cum and bringing it to my mouth without hesitation. My wide, rough tongue laps at the taste of him as my nose crunches and my jaw pushes forward. I growl, opening my fingers to clean between them.

My heart pounds as the heat begins to rise within. It roars like a billowing flame, coursing along my body from my core to the tips of my ears as they begin to slide through my hair. All of my teats and both of my nipples immediately harden and I twist my bare toes into the carpet.

It's harder to think. I almost feel the words slipping away as the ability to form complex thoughts crumble.

No. I have to pull back. I have to learn some control.

Fur pierces my torn blazer, growing from my mound and up my body. Beneath the blazer, my stomach is bare as my torn shirt does little more than give the appearance of a properly put together outfit.

I can see the mounds of my eight tiny nipples along my body beneath my skirt and blazer. I ache to touch them. To grind on the corner of my desk or, oh god! To call Michael in and ride his dick! Oh god! Once the thought enters my mind, I'm practically leaking from the idea of it. He'd be so happy to see that. So happy to see how wet I am for him. I'm such a good girl. I am. Oh god. Ready for him. Always ready.

I'm panting now and my nails bulge as the small tips of my claws push against them. My hand fumbles at my phone, knocking the receiver over and my hand paws at the buttons. I can't remember his number. Or what to do. I whine, licking my lips as they stretch over my growing muzzle. I just want him here.

I could go to him?

No. No, bad girl. No.

I whine, pulling at the neck of my blazer and my claws leave short red marks that are quickly hidden beneath the gray fur growing there.

Bad. Have to-

Have to- breathe.

Pull back.

I slid from my chair to fall on my hands with my knees splayed to both sides. My skirt strains against my hips. I can feel the cold wet spot staining my skirt against the bare skin of my short, hairless tail.

My knees slid against the carpet as I spread them until my pussy touches the carpet. I yip and press down, grinding my exposed, dog-like pussy into the short pile. My claws cut into the carpet as I grunt and shove down and back, marking the floor with my arousal.

Raising up to all fours, I lift my head towards the door and breathe deeply. I move forward and then freeze.

No. No, no, no. My furred ears angle back, brushing against my hair as I go down to my forearms and knees, pulling into a tight ball with my forehead against the carpet.

I empty my mind. And breathe. Out in a long, shuddering, hungry exhalation. Holding it. Clearing my mind. Pushing away the thoughts of Michael's hairy chest against my back. In. Through my mouth, feeling my chest expand. The hairs lining my body brush against my blazer and I can almost feel Michael's arms surrounding me, his hands digging into the fur on my belly as he tries to mount me. As I raise my hips to present myself to him.

No. Clear. Breathe out.

It takes minutes for the changes to revert but I ignore them as they do. I shrink myself down to nothingness and just relax.

When it's safe, I lean back to rest my ass against my heels.

Dog hairs cover the carpet beneath me and behind me. From my face and thighs, I assume. Stragglers that weren't pulled back into my body. I'll need to get a little vacuum if this continues. Although, the cleaning company is an independent company and would never question why there's hair. They'd probably assume I had a dog. Unlike the cleaners at my home, I barely know these people. Let them think I brought in a pet.

Oh.

My nails dig into my legs, just above my knees. Pet. I desperately try not to think of it but I can't not. The fur on the carpet, kneeling on the ground and the word itself echo through my mind.

I can see it so clearly. Curled up on the floor next to him while He works. Watching Him. Content. A pet.

"Oh fucking Christ," I whisper and my nails nearly pierce my skin as I try to force it all away. My hips rock despite my efforts and I can feel the muscles within as I tense them, slippery and empty and oh so wet.

With a grunt, I push myself up and stagger back into my chair. My chest heaves as I pant with my mouth open once more. My tongue, longer than it should be, laps up the drool from my cramped mouth and I sit. Like a good girl. And think of nothing.

I wish I could say it was getting easier to control but I think it's getting more difficult. I think- I think I'm getting more used to what I am. I worry that I'm starting to accept it. That I'm-

That I'm enjoying it. God, I'm enjoying it. The loss of control is one but the raw, animal passion is even better. It's addicting as hell. Everything is brighter and sharper and simpler and my whole body screams for attention. It's exhilarating. I ride an endorphin high and just want to fuck until I can't think anymore.

Language.

I still need to function in society. I still need to be able to hold it back.

My fingers touch the edge of my jaw as my tongue reels back into my mouth, scraping against my teeth. I massage my cheek gently until I'm sure I'm me again. Until I move in my seat and my thighs press against my pussy. With my torn panties in my purse, I can easily feel my warm, wet bulging lips against my skin.

Control.

There are things I need to do before dinner tonight with Michael. I'm so excited but also nervous. But, mostly excited. So many things to do before then!

Bones creak in my hips. My freed tailbone shifts as if it's wagging but I can barely feel it. For a brief moment, a lump forms above my ass before it slowly deflates.

I push the mouse and type in my password to see the black image of the private browsing window waiting for me. My fingers click on the keyboard as I type a query into the search bar. Images and links to pages fill the screen and I glance at the closed door to my office once more. I can't help it despite the fact that nobody can see my screen.

This is a new world for me and it takes a bit of extra searching to find exactly what I'm looking for. My initial embarrassment is quickly replaced by excitement that threatens to steal away my humanity once more so I hurry and choose, writing down the information on a sticky note from my desk.

My pumps are next to the desk. I slip my feet into both of them and then mentally chastise myself as the broken ankle straps lay uselessly against my feet. Ignoring that, I stand and nod satisfactorily when I don't feel unbalanced.

With a step, I stumble and grab my desk for support. There was a flash of an image. Standing in my office after the first change. Michael leading me away. Walking on my forefeet with wide, heavy paws and thick padding. As soon as it appears, it's gone, leaving me clutching at the remnants. I'm leaning heavily on my desk and the heat is trying to bloom between my thighs.

Closing my eyes, I swallow and focus and the warmth recedes to a dull pulsing deep within. It never seems to go away completely and surges forth as soon as I lose control.

I don't think I've stopped being wet for one moment since I woke up this morning.

Leaning over, I grab my bag and walk through my office and out into the parking lot. The late morning sun greets me and I raise my face to it while breathing deeply. I automatically relax once the outside air surrounds me and I can't stop smiling. The chemical smell of cars mixes with the faint stench of cigarettes and a million other unrecognizable aromas, forcing me to sneeze but I lick my lips and nose and climb into my SUV.

The vehicle quietly rumbles to life and I waste no time in backing up and driving off. At the first stop sign, I give the address from the sticky note to my smartphone and follow the directions it gives.

My office is in a small, friendly city that offers plenty of incentives to draw businesses but, in doing so, it created an environment more conducive for people to commute into rather than to actually live in. Despite their best efforts to emulate the nearby city of Tarleton, the far smaller city of Edgewood became filled with large business, fast food places and a few struggling strip malls.

Tarleton, on the other hand, is the largest city in the county and thriving. I moved there when I graduated college and lived in a small studio apartment in the middle of downtown. The business I'm driving to is located in an older part of the city that's fallen behind as new businesses relocate. I've been in the area before but I don't remember this particular place. I imagine that even if I had passed it, I would've walked quickly without looking inside.

Really, though, as I drive and think about all of this, I'm just distracting myself from yesterday. For whatever reason, I'm finding my associative memory to be exceptionally powerful now. Walking on the balls of my feet, being close to the bed this morning and anything related to Michael. Small, innocuous things that shouldn't matter but are even slightly related to my... condition immediately put me in the wrong frame of mind and the heat rears its head.

So the stroll down memory lane as I take the exit into downtown Tarleton is because I'm terrified of what will happen if I-

The car swerves because I suddenly see my hands around Michael's cock as he's driving my SUV. I'm seated in the passenger seat and his hand is on my head, pushing me down but I'm going eagerly by myself. Wrapping my lips around his dick as I suck him off like a cheap little prostitute he picked up off the street.

I growl, baring suddenly sharp fangs at the thought of another woman with him yet the connected thought of being his little slut also turns me on and I grip the wheel and swallow. My tongue explores the roof of my mouth, rubbing and flexing until it forces past my lips.

His address is in my phone. According to the online map, it's actually not too far from where I am. I could go there and wait for him. Call him and make him come to me. Roll around in his apartment, covering myself in his scent while shredding my clothes with my growing claws and going to all fours and raising my ass to show my dripping wet pussy and-

I blow past a red light and a cacophony of honking horns and angry shouts, panting and sweating with lust-filled eyes. I groan and growl and shove my hand beneath my skirt and between my thighs while pulling over to an empty spot on the curb.

My hand squeezes my slick pussy and I bark. I'm so hot. So hot. Hard to think. I run my hand through my hair, pulling at the tips of my ears as I rub myself, pressing my finger down between my pussy lips. They part and I feel the thick warmth of my slipper inner lips. I want to finger myself so bad. So bad. Bad. Bad girl. My other hand tweaks my nipple and I bark in pain before whining as I pinch it more gently.

Bad girl. Need Michael. Wait. Wait for him.

A single claw emerges from the tip of my index finger and it drags down my pussy lips. I throw my head back with my mouth open. Black fur lines the edges of my jaw and my canines are sharp and long. My whine turns into a high pitched little howl and I shudder, forcing my hand away while every instinct tells me to shove the fingers deep inside.

In the distance, a dog begins to bark savagely, responding to my howl. A second and then third picks up the call and I snarl at them as I shove my hands against the seat, digging dull black claws into the leather. They're angry. Someone new is on their territory and they don't like it.

Bad girl, bad!

Bad g-

I can't stop the bark that bubbles up. I face the other dogs and let loose as my scarlet colored lips darken to black and stretch over my lengthening face. My long, sharp ears tremble as I bark louder and then shove my hands to my face. A passing couple step away from the curb as they stare into the tinted windows of my SUV.

What am I doing?

I am a bad girl.

Leaning forward, I press my forehead against the steering wheel and ignore the whispers of the couple as they cross the street. The changes once again recede as time passes but the cabin is filled with the smell of my pussy. I shove my fingers in my mouth, sucking on them without realizing what I'm doing. As the smell threatens to overwhelm me once more, I roll the windows down. One of the dogs barks again and my rounded ears twitch as I lean out and bare my teeth in her (oh god, how do I know it's a girl dog and why am I sniffing for her scent?!) direction. My very human teeth.

Jesus.

A quick check in my mirrors shows the street is clear so I gun it, roaring away as my phone continues to give me directions.

It's so frustrating. I'm me. I haven't forgotten who I am. I can remember from early childhood to now and all of my victories and failures along the way. Personality-wise, I feel the same as I've always been. However, beneath all of that is the new part of myself.

The transition is seamless. At no point during that recent change or the one in my office did it feel unnatural. I wanted to bark at the dog and I remember wanting to do it because she was trying to warn me away but I wasn't anywhere near her goddamn yard and I can go wherever I want! And if she doesn't like it, I'll go over and mark her goddamn fence to-