Office Bitch Ch. 04

"Christ," I whisper, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles lighten. Ebony hairs line my fingers, slowly creeping over to the back of my hand. Shiny in the light. Dense near the tips of my fingers and down to their base but growing sparse further up my arm. I grind my teeth and stare at them until they stop and then pull back. "Focus, girl."

It's harder to know where I stop and the creature begins and now I'm worried that I'm making a mistake. That I've let it talk me into doing this. Surely I wasn't the one to think this would be a good idea?

My phone quietly informs me that my stop is coming up on the right. I almost turn at the intersection before the store but it takes too long to make a decision so I miss the turn and find myself signaling to park on the empty curb. This area of the city looks as bad as I remembered but online reviews swore the shop sold high quality items.

Instead of going inside, I turn my car off and sit, listening to the engine tick over and over. I can see a little of the storefront through the tinted windows but it's just a couple of mannequins wearing leather and various metal objects along with small displays of random things that are far beyond my comfort level.

"What are you doing, Anne?" I ask myself, closing my eyes and leaning my head back.

It seemed like a good idea at the time. No. It seemed like an amazing and perfect idea at the time. But where do I end and it begins? Was that my idea or- I can't keep calling it "it". Her? That'll do for now. The other part of me. It was just so appealing when the thought occurred to me initially.

My nails drum on the steering wheel as I stare far into the distance. My mind is the clearest it's been over the past two days. It could be the distance from- No. Clear mind.

Something incredible happened to me yesterday. I lost myself to it and Michael was there to witness it. He took me home and I- I forced myself onto him. Scraps of memories have come back to me since then but it's still a blur. All I can remember is the loss of self and the base pleasures that came with it. The incredible freedom. It was- it was like being drunk without the hangover. A part of me came out, freed from the restraints I've placed upon myself over the years. And the sex!

Panting now, nails digging into the steering wheel. The pointed tips dent the hard leather. Thin, silky tan hairs emerge from the backs of my ears as dark gray hairs pierce the skin surrounding my belly button. They spread down into the forest of black pubic hair and up to my breast bone, evenly between the four rows of teats that permanently line my body. A single drop of sweat forms at my hairline as the heat spreads like thick smoke, causing me to shiver and moan.

My back arcs as my tail bulges out and my skirt expands over it, just beneath the band.

It's heady. The freedom afforded by the changes forced upon me. Not having to think about anything more than pleasing and being a good girl and doing whatever Michael wants me to do. Anticipating his wants and desires. Focusing on him. Letting myself go.

A whine escapes my lips as they grow dark and my tongue lengthens, pushing my mouth open while my ears flex and extend past my hair.

I want this. I want it. Good girls do what they're told. They don't sit and look at a computer and type and think about hard numbers or people or bark into the phone, no.

No.

Good girls do what their Masters want them to do. And Michael is good to me. He's nice. He's nice to me. He doesn't hurt me. He isn't scared to see my claws and teeth and tail and He, oh. Oh. He feels so good inside of me. He tastes so good.

The fur along my torso spreads to the sides, tickling my teats. A few long strands of tan and gray pierce my blazer, hidden by the dark coloring of the material. The tip of my tail wags before lengthening and sliding against my bare ass.

He deserves this.

My claws score the plastic of the door when I grab the handle, shoving and whimpering until it opens and I step out, barefoot onto the street. The concrete burns the bottom of my feet but the tender ash coloring lining my soles fades to charcoal as the skin grows loose along my forefoot and beneath my toes. I walk around the front of the SUV, going to the balls of my feet as the loose skin fills out and my padding grows in. The nails crack as my claws click against the sidewalk.

A bell above the door chimes when I enter and the sudden vacuum of cool air stirs the dense fur covering the backs of my hands.

So many smells. So many! Leather and sex and lube and chemicals and people! So many people!

I look around anxiously and my short tail lifts the back of my skirt but I only see one person sitting at the counter. Numerous piercings cover their face, most of which is hidden behind bright pink hair that is obviously fake. They nod at me but I step out of their line of sight in front of a nearby shelf, grabbing the edge with sharp claws to peek around as my ears stand tall. They're sitting and reading now and not paying attention to me.

My brown eyes are speckled with gold as I stare around me in wonder. The store is far larger inside and there's so many things. Fake people with dull white fake skin are wearing fake leather. Although-

I raise my chin and sniff. My lips bulge and I scratch at my aching gums as my canines crowd my small mouth. Fur spreads out from the nape of my neck, hidden by my hair as it creeps around to my jaw. Some leather is real. The fur falters when it almost reaches my chin but a few strands emerge from both of my cheeks. I lick my nose with my rough tongue and my tail wraps between my thighs. Anxious. So many things. So many confusing smells. So-

I lean in, grabbing a red leather skirt and press it against my nose, huffing and breathing deeply. It was worn recently. Smells like pussy. A little like it. Sweet and salty. Sweat. More than one person wore it. And the- the- I can't think of the word. Above the skirt. Tight shirt. Tight shirt thing.

Bones shift in my feet, spreading my toes apart as I stand taller, sniffing at the shirt. I touch the bare white body while gently touching one of my teats.

The back of my skirt bulges over my tail as the tip slides past the bottom, wagging back and forth slowly. A few silver and black hairs cover the black skin of my thick tail. It curls again as I peek around the corner. Warm. Warm against my thighs. I shiver as it presses against my sex. Still wet.

A round leather couch with bright gold buttons lays ahead of me. My ears perk up and I kneel before it, shoving my nose into the cushions. It is, so far, the most interesting thing I've ever smelled. An infinite amount of people sat here and they all have a history with them. Young and old, pure and covered in recent love making. Sweat. Flowers. Perfume. Cologne. It makes me dizzy but it's hard to stop. Until I look up and see what I'm looking for.

My tail unfurls and wags fiercely as I pad over to the display.

Clear plastic rods hold dozens of collars of different designs. I tap my claws against bronze spikes on a black collar but move on, touching each of them. My golden eyes narrow as I walk around them.

What would He want? This is important. More important than anything. It has to be perfect. Perfect for Him.

I hold one carefully in my hand, turning it over slowly. The lines crossing my palm are fading as the skin grows smooth and puffy. It's expanding slowly in a rough, wide spade shape that makes it hard to grasp things. I take the black collar from the peg and continue to look as my tail brushes sparse fur on the back of my thighs.

The door's bell rings. My ears swivel and I turn to look but I can't see the- I raise my short muzzle and sniff - the man and woman that have entered. They smell like alcohol. I press the collar against my chest (Mine!) and then grab a brown and red one, holding all three close to my body.

I need to see. I need to see them. There's places I can be alone. To look at them. Rooms. I whimper quietly, ears down as I try to think of the name but it doesn't matter because I see a door in front of me.

"Chan. Ging. Room," I growl, my tongue awkward in my lengthened mouth as I try to read the words on the door. I fumble with the latch until it opens and then shove it closed.

Oh. I can see myself. I look so different. The collars drop from my hands as I step forward to the mirror covering the wall opposite the door. The claws of my wide paws catch in the carpet but not enough to stop me.

There's a moment of panic. I see myself doubled. I'm still there. She hasn't completely taken over. It's harder to think and she's overwhelmed some parts of me but I'm still here.

Reaching up, I touch my cheek and feel the wrinkly skin lining the bottom of my fingers against my bare skin. My claw presses gently into my cheekbone and I stare, hypnotized, at my beautiful golden eyes. My thumb brushes long silver and black hairs covering the line of my delicate jaw. My red lips show lines of pure onyx and my teeth are exposed. Turning my head, I can tell that my mouth is longer.

When my ears twitch, I grab them, wincing as my claws bite into them. And then my eyes flutter as I massage and scratch at their thickness. They're so soft. My hands trail down, brushing against my face and down my body. I grab the bottom of my blazer and lift, shivering as the fabric brushes my dense pelt.

I feel parts of myself returning as I quietly inspect myself. It's the first time I've been able to see all of it.

My claws dig through the fur until I find a teat and I bite my blackened lips while wrinkling my nose when my leathery padding brushes against it. I pull with both hands and throw my shirt and blazer into the corner.

The fur stops beneath my breasts but there's a spray of tan hairs along my collarbones. I watch as more hairs emerge and lengthen and it spreads to my shoulders.

Behind me, my tail wags and I stare at it, eyes widening as I feel the pull against my spine and the double feeling of it against my ass and legs but also the alien sensations on the tail itself.

"Corset," I whisper, staring at my body. I remember it suddenly. The word. The tight shirt. No. Corset.

I hook my fingers into my skirt and wriggle my hips as I push down, running my claws around to my back to push it over my tail.

And then I stand completely nude. Black and tan fur hides my thighs but fades to sparse hair over my shin with a few tufts over the swell of my calves. My freed tail arcs back. Thick and strong. I reach behind to scratch at the base and then melt, leaning into the mirror as my claws find an incredibly itchy sensitive spot.

Moaning, I slide to my knees with my thighs spread.

"Corset," I whisper again, pressing my head against the mirror. "Corset."

I feel so alive. I want to run and jump and play and laugh until I can't even breathe. It's incredible. Why was I so con- concan- consin- Worried? Why was I so worried? I feel full of energy. I could play forever. Chase and play and romp and- Michael.

"Yessss," I moan, going to all fours.

On my hands and knees, I walk away from the mirror and look back over my shoulder. To see what He would see. My tail raises as I go to my feet and spread my thighs. Despite the dense fur between my legs, I see my swollen, aching pussy and watch as a clear string of liquid leaks free, connecting with my fur.

There's a thick line of fur running from the base of my tail to the nape of my neck, about three inches wide. My tongue hangs loose, dripping with saliva and my ears quiver as I paw at the ground and stare back at myself.

I can almost see Him. Almost feel His touch. Bare skin on my fur. Above me. Warm and strong and smell good.

I whine and claw at the ground and gasp as my ass thrusts back and up and more liquid leaks, dripping down to the carpet. My breasts shake as fur begins to surround them.

So hot. Need Him. Need.

Groaning, I collapse, pulling into myself as my fluffy, soft tail lowers to cover my pussy. I growl and scrape my sharp teeth, slamming at the ground. Not here. He's not here. Can't get to Him.

The- what was it called? The tight shirt. Need to focus. Need to be Anne. See Him tonight.

I shudder and snap at the air, dragging my claws through the carpet. I feel the resistance as it pulls at the bones of my fingers. It hurts a little but the pain helps. My jaw throbs while it cracks back into place.

As the buzzing in my brain retreats, I tentatively go to all fours and shake myself, panting and huffing.

"Corset!" I cry out and my tail wags.

"Ma'am?" A voice says from beyond the room. "Do you need help in there?"

"No, Anne's- I'm- I'm fine!" I say, blushing in embarrassment.

"Corset," I whisper quietly. I can remember the word.

Need to hurry. The collars are before me. Black, red and brown. I grab the black one and turn to the mirror, holding it next to my neck. And then the red one. And, finally, the brown one. My long canines peek out from my lips as I frown and my furred brow furrows. My up-turned nose cracks and bends forward, forcing my nostrils down when my jaw shrinks a little more.

Laying the brown collar on the ground, I pick up the red one once more. It's padded inside with hickory colored leather and black stitching and a heavy gold buckle. I drag my thumb's claw around the inside and then sniff at it. Nobody has worn it and it's unbuckled.

My golden eyes stare back at me when I look up and I shuffle forward on my knees. The fur on my neck is pulling back into my body. Mostly black. Holding my hair back with one hand, I place the collar carefully around my neck. The red is brilliant against the remnants of my fur. But even as it recedes, it still looks pretty on my dark brown skin. I turn it slightly so the buckle is at front and then whimper as I feel the heat stir.

A single thick clear string seeps from my slightly open pussy lips as my hips dip and it attaches to the carpet.

Growling and gasping, I grab the collar off and bow my head.

""Ma'am?" the voice says again.

I crawl to the door and push the collar under the gap.

"I want this," I tell the girl. My voice is raspy and I want to growl again. And rub myself on the bench at the side of the room. It takes enormous effort to pull myself up on two legs. And even more effort to grab my clothes.

Anne has to wear clothes. Anne has to drive. The claws on my pa- feet tear the bottom of my skirt and I have to mentally pull my tail down and then physically push it but I finally get the skirt pulled up over-

Another growl as the skirt rubs against my teats. I let go and stare at myself. The top row of my teats are bare and the fur is retreating. Slowly. Too slowly. I have to go. I grab my shirt, freeing it from the blazer and shove my hands in while pulling it tight. My fingers automatically try to button it up until I vaguely remember popping the buttons free this morning when I attacked Michael. Instead I let it hang open. Looking at myself is a mistake as it's somehow more erotic to see my half-changed body in a skirt and open shirt than it was to see myself naked.

I grab my blazer and shrug into it, pulling threads with my claws until it covers my body. I tug at the bottom and nod, oblivious to the way my hardened nipples dent the soft cotton. The skirt hides my thighs but my calves show. Thankfully, at a glance it looks like I just don't care to shave. More than a simple, quick look would raise some eyebrows but I don't care. I just need to hurry.

My ears are problematic. I push at them but they twitch away from my fingers so, instead, I claw at my hair to make it unruly and that almost hides my ears. Almost. I can still see the very tips.

Good enough. Anne- I- I have to go. I have to go.

I bend and grab the other collars and open the door, walking out on small, padded paws that click and crack as they shorten. For a brief moment, I go flat footed but then raise up to my forefoot again. It just feels better.

There's another couple browsing the store so I go around to return the collars and then further towards the register, ducking my head and staring at my paws.

"If you're ready to check out, I have your item all boxed up," the cashier says.

I nod and then look up.

"Oh! Money!" I blurt. My tail, shorter now, pushes at my skirt. "I'll- I'll be right back!"

I run to my SUV and silently curse when I see the driver side door is open but, thankfully, my purse is still inside. I grab it and walk back in, wincing as the sidewalk bites into my soft feet. The cashier keeps looking at me as I dig around to find my wallet. My hands are swollen but smaller with my nails having grown back. Finally, I place my credit card on the counter and push it towards them (her, my nose says, it's a her) and hide my hands.

"I- ohh-" I moan, digging my hands into my thighs. My tail rubs against my pussy as it pulls back into my body. I lean onto the counter, trembling as it teases me, the fur brushing bare skin between my thighs and ass.

The cashier sighs but rings me up and I keep my eyes locked onto the counter, snatching my card away when she hands it back. The pen is awkward in my hand and I almost ask her why she handed it to me until she pushes the receipt towards me. My signature is a shaky scrawl but I drop the pen once I'm done and grab the little white box holding the collar. I stalk through the store while vowing never to return.

When I finally sit in my vehicle with the door closed, I bark out a laugh and lean back.

"Corset," I laugh again, shaking my head.

I tap out the name of my favorite clothing store and press the brake with my bare foot before shifting gears and driving away.

---

My plate is clean and silence sits comfortably between us. I look up and smile at Michael when I see him studying me. He's so serious. I'm not going to ask if he liked the food because I know it wasn't great but I'm happy that he's finished everything I gave him.

"I have something to say," I tell him. He winces and looks panicked for a moment but I raise a hand. "No, it's a good thing, really."

His concerns worms its way through me. What's he scared of? What if- what if he doesn't like me after all? What if this is-

No. Stop it. I can smell him. He smells good. There's an undercurrent of something else that I can't yet identify but something in my brain says everything is okay and I'll trust her. The hidden her that shares my body.

"Come with me," I tell him, taking the white box from beside my plate.

---

She's howling inside of me as I kneel before the opened box. I feel the uncomfortable wriggling of my tail deep inside my hips and my jaw aches. I can't hold it back forever and I'm not sure I'll ever have complete control.

"Please," I whimper, bowing my head briefly.

I take the collar and look up at Michael through long lashes. He's excited and it's driving me wild. I can see his erection and smell his desire.

Hairs scratch against the inside of my thighs as they spread from my pussy, slowly trailing down my legs as I begin to lose control. I place the collar in my mouth, holding it carefully before going to my hands and knees. My tail is a thick, writhing lump below the dimples on either side of my bare back. The skin stretches as bones form and push the tip of my tail from my body.

I'm soaking wet and burning up. The thought of giving myself to Him makes the heat roar through me. I want to leap at him and bounce on his cock until he explodes inside of me but, instead, I slowly crawl to him, purposefully working my hips and ass in a swaying motion.

Once I'm before Him, I lean back on my heels. My hairless tail wags against the top of my ass. I try to keep my composure but I groan, biting at the collar as my teats grow erect without a single touch. My whole body quivers but I force it to stillness as I take the collar from my mouth and lick my lips with my floppy, wide tongue. A bit of drool remains on the collar but I offer it up with both hands.