Office Party

I'm three pages deep on Amazon and I still don't know what to get for the party. I can't wear one of the typical 'slutty girl' costumes and not just because it's my first work party as an actual, functioning working adult. It's just not my style. I'll save those for girls with more self-confidence. Or more alcohol.

So, I close the tab and just do a basic search for a costume. After a bit of back and forth. I decide a onesie is probably my best bet. I'm not very crafty and anything that needs paint or more than one strap would be too complicated for me. That leads me to other sites until my eyes are tired. I push up my glasses and pinch my nose with a sigh, blinking light blue eyes.

And then I see it. A really cute dog onesie - a rottweiler. Absolutely perfect and not too expensive, surprisingly enough. I don't know the website - arcanedesires.mag? But they take Paypal so I don't have to stress about giving some weird site my credit card.

I look at it a bit longer, rotating the 3d image to see the droopy little cute tail and the adorable floppy black ears on the model and I'm already in love with it.

Also looks like it'll double as pajamas so it's not just a useless one-shot buy that I never use again. I go through the links, purchase it and shut down my laptop. Time to curl up in bed and read a little.

---

The party is tonight and I'm panicking a little bit. But just a little bit. The post office tried to deliver my costume yesterday when I wasn't home but it requires a signature. So now I'm sitting here, anxiously waiting for redelivery because the party starts in a little over an hour.

I'm calm. I'm calm. I can always just not go, it's not that big a deal, is it? I'm just a sales intern so I won't be missed too much. Gosh, I don't think I will.

I've left my curtains open and my porch light on. There's absolutely no excuse this-

The doorbell rings and I bolt for it, yelling out "sorrys!" and "wait a seconds!" as I navigate through my small apartment until I reach the front door. I pause, cough and collect myself just as the doorbell rings again.

"Thank y-" I say, opening the door. Nobody is there and that's a little weird. I kinda lean out to look a bit more down the hallway but it's eerily empty. Huh. My frown vanishes when I notice the padded manilla envelope laying against my door frame.

Score! Although, what was the nonsense it said online about requiring a signature?

Doesn't matter, I guess. I don't have time to worry about it.

I grab my treasure, close and lock the door and retreat inside. I have about an hour to get ready but one of the benefits of the hoodie is that, well, it's a hoodie. It has a hood. An adorable little thing with ears and those tan colored marks rottweilers have on their eyebrows. The hood will hide my hair and the cuteness will distract anyone from the lack of makeup.

Eeee, I can't wait to see how it is. I tear open the perforated top of the envelope and the costume is nestled lovingly inside, cradled between bubble wrap.

It looks a little smaller than I expected but, as I pull it out, I see that it's just more form-fitting than I thought it would be. It feels well made and although there's no fake fur, the coloring is spot on. I just wish I had time to wash it first. Yet another reminder not to put things off until the last minute. If I'd ordered it sooner, I'd have more time.

Besides, when I bring it up to my nose, it doesn't smell bad. It actually smells, huh, how do I put it? Natural? It's like, I can usually smell some kind of artificial fabric scent on clothes but this is the first time I've smelled the lack of it.

Oh! And the belly is soft. The fabric is as slick as velvet and warm to the touch. It's- huh. There's no tag so I don't know what it's made out of or how to wash it. Gentle, probably.

The. Tail. Is. Adorable. It's about a foot long and surprisingly thick with solid padding inside of it. I sit and lay the costume on my lap before pulling up a browser on my phone. I guess I noticed it in the pictures but, for whatever reason, I thought rottweilers had stubby tails naturally. And that's just dumb on my part. And reading further on the subject makes me sad. I'd never heard of 'docking' before in relation to dogs. What the hell, humanity?

Putting those thoughts aside, I hold the onesie up in front of me, admiring the tan "socks" of the feet and hands. There's another splash of the same color just under where my shoulders will fit. Oh, and some right around the the collar of the hoodie as well. Otherwise, it's entirely black.

Unable to contain myself any more and running out of time for the party, I undress down to my panties and bra - both black to match my costume.

It feels good against my skin. As warm as it was to the touch. I have to hunt for the zipper since it's well hidden beneath black fabric flaps but it zips like any other hoodie and I step into one of the legs.

The material clings to my skin as I pull it up to my calf. There's little fake claws on the tips of the dark, wet sand-colored feet. I step in with my other foot, pulling it up until the costume is around my legs. It feels both nonexistent and comforting at the same time.

I slide the fabric up over my slim legs until the crotch of it nestles against my panties and then slip my fingers into the attached fingerless gloves. The static electricity from the costume pulls at the usually invisible blonde hairs on my arm. I watch them raise as I drag the sleeves over my arms. I feel the hood against my back as I reach down, pinching beneath the zipper before I seal myself into the outfit.

The costume is pretty tight so I worry about my breasts showing but there's padding inside the chest that I didn't notice at first. As I zip up, it forms itself to me, showing my hips but not the panty-line I expected and, as it presses against my chest, I look down to see a vague bulge as if the fabric is restraining my breasts.

It must be magic because it doesn't feel tight at all. Snug in the right places but not crushing my boobs despite how it's somehow compressing them.

Excited to see how I look, I run to my room and spin, feeling the attached tail tugging on the fabric around my butt. With my legs slightly apart, I look over my shoulder to see the dark tan coloring come up from the feet to the inside of my thighs and up to my butt.

I'm going to be honest, I look really good in it. Black has always been a slimming color and the costume is as form-fitting as my yoga pants. I run my hands down my sides and my hips and I can't even feel my panties. My tail flops behind me, right between my legs.

Turning, I can see my breasts but the dark material hides them well enough that it doesn't matter very much. No worse than a t-shirt and I can't even see my nipples.

Smiling at myself, I reach back, gather my shoulder-length hair into the back of the hoodie and then flip the hood up. The black ears flop out and down and I shake my head before opening my mouth and sticking out my tongue.

"Arf!" I tell myself, smiling at my reflection.

I'm a good girl, yes I am.

I walk through my apartment, searching for my purse. I have a really bad habit of never leaving things in the same place and always forgetting where I put it so it's always a hunt for me.

But, I still have a peanut butter protein bar in it from yesterday and I can smell it. The tail shifts against my back as I follow my nose into the kitchen to find my purse sitting on top of my dishwasher. I shove my face in it and then back off, reaching in to grab the protein bar as the tail brushes the back of my legs.

God, I love peanut bar. So much. It's just so good and tastes good on my tongue and is sticky and then I get to lick my lips until they clean and taste it some more. I tear into the package as I sling my purse over my shoulder.

With the first chomp, my cuspids begin to itch. I finish off the bar when I reach the front door and toss the empty wrapper on the nearby table. My tongue works around my lips as I reach down to slip into my untied trainers. They're a tight fit and that's kind of unusual since the costume is as thin as some leggings I wear. I'll just loosen the strings when I have more time.

God! The outside smells amazing! I lick my nose and huff, breathing deeply of all the unusual scents floating through the air. And then wrinkle my nose at the harsh smells of cigarettes.

I growl in the direction of my neighbor's apartment. These are supposed to be non-smoking apartments.

Oh.

Crimson rises to my cheeks. No, it's her boyfriend. There's another smell with the perfume and I can- oh gosh, wow, I can hear them having sex. More sex because they were both outside recently. I step to the railing and crouch, sniffing crotch-height. I can smell him. His... stuff. And hers. It clings to the metal.

It's a good smell and it reminds me how long it's been for me. I've just been so focused on finishing school and getting my new job and- ugh. I lean in, breathing deeply of their scents. Living vicariously through them as the floppy ears on the hoodie twitch and I hear her repeated moans inside. And the wet slapping of skin against skin.

Woof. Time to go because now I'm getting turned on.

I stand, cast a last longing glance to my neighbor's door and hurry down the stairs to the parking lot. My car is on the other side of the- wow, that's fresh. I stop by a lamppost for a brief moment and sniff before moving on. Mrs. Diller's dog. A male. Although, of course it is. I mean, I know it is.

Reaching down, I tug at the constricted crotch of the costume while pushing away the image of her golden retriever lifting its leg. At the thought of what was-

I mean, it has to be because a girl dog wouldn't pee up high like that. We squat to pee.

Ah, my car! I hustle, feeling the tail bouncing behind me while grabbing my keys. It's an old beater and I have to physically unlock it with the key. The door creaks as I open it and get in.

And then I yelp when the base of my tail flexes painfully against the seat. I reach back, pulling it sideways and leaning forward so the pressure is off.

The car coughs to a start as I back out and pull away, wrinkling my gray nose as the smell of gasoline fills the interior, blocking out the scent of my faint arousal.

I can almost- no, no, I push the image away to focus on my drive.

Tiny hairs the color of burnt umber emerge from the backs of my fingers as I grip the wheel and turn into traffic. Our office is small, a close-knit group of mostly men. Sandra and I are the only women and she's worked there since the beginning.

My fingernails move. The red polish cracks to show flecks of black beneath as the nails pinch and fold. The thin tips slide outward as they continue to grow together until my previously flat nails are curved, blacks claws dusted with Rouge Fatale. I flex my hands on the wheel to scratch my claws against my itchy palms while I navigate downtown traffic towards my office.

I'm getting kind of nervous. I really want to make a good impression on everyone. We're a small tech startup but the serious kind rather than the "dart rifle at every desk and arcade machines in the break room" kind. This is one of the rare times everyone comes together to relax and to try and ignore the crunch.

I reach down, pinching at the skin of my thighs to try and pull the costume away from my crotch. My sweet scent is filling the car and my tongue slides past the sharp tips of my canines as I enjoy it. Drinking in my excitement. It's just getting a little tight down there and it's turning me on.

Greg will be there. I know I'm nothing and I know office romances are bad but his bearded face drives me crazy sometimes. I spread my legs and groan as my smell intensifies.

Blood rushes down and my labia begins to swell, pressing against the black fabric of the costume. And then the lips continue to bulge and the costume grows damp. The material strains and melts away to leave pussy lips that match the color that previously covered them. If I weren't so distracted, I could feel my pussy brushing the inside of my thighs. Skin flows down, over my clit to meet the changing, folded lips of my sex and I grunt as I accidentally shift and my distended pussy brushes my seat.

A single, black hair pierces the fabric still clinging to my thighs. It's short and shiny and is joined by a second. And then a third. And a fourth. More. As the hairs spread between my thighs, the costume disintegrates around them.

The change is almost imperceptible unless you were watching to see the flat black of the onesie become replaced with the shiny black of my growing pelt.

My claws drag against callused skin on my palms as I turn into the little parking lot at work. I can feel my tail wriggle happily as I see other cars parked there but, when I step out of the car, my tail flexes down between my legs in response to my anxiety.

I really don't want to mess this up. A whine escapes my dark lips. I rub my rough hands against my face and my blonde eyebrows flake away.

Taking a deep breath to relax myself, I step forward. As I do, darker hairs replace my missing eyebrows until they match the tan color of my costume. A few black hairs grow along the edge of them and then expand toward the bridge of my nose.

Soft trance music greets me when I open the doors to our office. They've turned the main lights off so it's a little dark with individual lights hung up in order to make it seem more like an actual club.

I walk past the front desk and see everyone in pairs, talking quietly. My tail curls further between my legs and I shiver when it brushes my sex.

"Hey, Deidre!" Sandra says as she breaks away from Ted. She's dressed as Jasmine from Aladdin and her outfit does nothing to hide her tits. But then, there isn't much that could hide them very well. I've learned over time that she takes every chance to show off. I guess I would, too. They're massive. "Wow, your costume looks great. I love your facepaint. Help yourself to punch. The red bowl is just juice and the purple bowl has a mix of alcohol. Lots of food and everything, too! Don isn't drinking and will call a cab for anyone that needs it."

Bare skin shows above my ass to expose a lump that connects to my tail. Jet black fur sprouts around the bump and then begins to spread to the base of my tail. The flat black fabric vanishes beneath a slowly growing thicket of fur. My tail unfurls and the tip wags at Sandra's words of encouragement.

Definitely a purple bowl night. I walk over, studiously ignoring those around me as I fill a plastic cup. With a gulp, I growl, showing my fangs behind pure black lips.

It's really strong, wow.

Eyeing the crowd, I see everyone is there but there's no friendly eyes welcoming me over. I can hear them talking about their projects and about what they'll do when and if they ever have free time.

My head swims and it's not just the alcohol I keep drinking. The smells! There's a million of them. The bathroom keeps tugging at me but there's the smell of sweat and stress and alcohol and the weird burning aroma of electronics and the faint subtext of odors everyone has dragged from their homes to the office.

I finish the last of my drink and sway a little. My feet hurt. I kneel and loosen my shoestrings before deciding to completely untie them. The ache lessens but is still there. I feel it in my joints and along the arch of my feet. A dull, thudding pain sometimes mixed with jolting stabs.

Hairs march up from my crotch. As dark as coal mined during midnight, they mix with the blonde of my sparse pubic hairs and the lighter hairs pull free as they're replaced. I scratch my bare skin through the itchy fur while looking around for-

There he is! And alone! He's dressed as a cowboy with a silly hat and blue jeans and cowboy boots. And an open leather vest. Not real leather, though. No. I can't smell the animal it was made from so it's something else. Some synthetic blend.

My tail wags gently and I step out of my shoes to walk barefoot to him, smiling widely.

Down the dark fur grows, over my hips and then changing color once it reaches the inside of my thighs. Now tan furs brush together as I step, one foot in front of the other to talk to Greg before-

I sniff, raising my black nose as bones click in my cheeks.

Tony. It was Tony talking to him.

My hips sway almost as much as I do. I dunno what they put in the bowl but, wow.

"Greg!" I say, reaching over to hug him, squeezing his arm between my breasts. The pressure compresses the fabric and, as it lays against my skin, hairs pierce my skin like claws, anchoring the costume in place.

I catch him glancing down at my sudden cleavage. The costume has moulded itself to my chest and he's struggling not to look.

God, I've fantasized about him doing that. Staring at me around the office, commenting on how healthy and glossy my pelt is and how firm my tits look. Telling me how his cock is aching and his sheath is stretched tight at the thought of taking me into the back room to get me on all fours and-

I've spent many a nights in bed thinking of him as I masturbate. At the taboo of it. The thrill of a secret office romance.

My fur is spreading between my breasts and I shiver as the tips of the hairs tickle the soft skin of my aching boobs.

God. I need to be touched. I need to be stroked and petted and-

"-good," Greg says.

"What?" I ask, blinking up at him.

"I said, your costume looks really good," Greg repeats. "Do you mind?"

I shake my head as he reaches up to touch the ears. He pinches my floppy ears between his fingers and I swoon, pressing against him for a moment as he rubs the skin and fur together.

"Wow," he says, pulling my ear and touching my the glossy blackness of it. "I can't even- how does it attach?"

"The hood," I sigh with my eyes closed. His hands are so warm against me. I turn, trying to get him to scratch behind my ears but he takes his hands away.

"What hood?" he asks.

I start to answer him and then twist as the hairs marching over my breasts touch my erect nipples. The sharp points drag my nipples, twisting them as they grow around them. The costume recedes and, for a brief moment, my nipples become visible.

Greg's eyes widen and then his forehead creases as my tiny pink nipples vanish beneath glossy black fur. I lick my lips and my rough tongue drags against tan hairs sparsely covering my cheeks.

I can smell him. His arousal.

I bump forward, legs spread and back bent slightly and his leg presses between my thighs. I feel the pressure against my folded, dripping pussy and I soak his jeans with my scent and my desire.

"I need another drink," I tell him, giddy with excitement, alcohol and the rising heat. The need to be in whelp.

As I walk, my toes become distended. They lengthen as they grow and I find myself rising up to the balls of my feet. With another step, my toenails scratch against the fabric. My other foot lands and dark, hardened claws pierce the feet of the costume. The material stretches as my feet widen, muscles and tendons pulling the bones to increase the surface area of my paws. The tan fibers of the onesie disappear as sandy hairs emerge from my feet to replace them.

When I reach the table, I glance around quickly and bend forward, lapping at the liquid. The costume is deteriorating along my back. As it does, it exposes a line of white skin just as dark fur grows forth. I reach back, scratching my fur while it consumes me and my leg jumps as I find a really, really, really, really, really- oh god, that feels fantastic- really, itchy spot.