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Hi everyone. Got some really bad news today and somehow put all my negative energy into finishing this collab story with 
excellent manips.
Might be my last story for a while, life is not so good right now so I appreciate your kind words as always.
-
“That’ll be 39.99.”
Gertrude winced and watched the cashier place the last of the spherical bath bombs into the paper bag. Setting her brown leather satchel on the counter, she fished out a handful of damaged five-dollar bills and counted through them. “Here.”
“Oh, sorry ma’am, we can’t take cash.” The employee slid her finger over to a laminated note hanging from her touch screen register. It said, “No cash.”
“Why not?” The witch scowled, her other hand halting as it curled around the bag of beauty products to lay claim on them prematurely.
“I’m very sorry?” The employee said, as if it was an answer, instead of a question to the whole world.
“I ought to hex you…” Gertrude muttered under her breath.
“Ma’am?”
“Nothing.”
“Do you have a credit card? Or you can do V-pay through your phone. You just need the app.”
She hissed as if struck through the thumb with a pin of silver. “Geahh, I don’t deal with machines of devil.” Her eyes hid under the wide brim of her pointy witch hat, snatching away her satchel from the befouled cashier. With a grumble of displeasure, Gertrude hobbled out of the Sephora in a huff. All dressed up in her robes of darkest night and for naught. Her knotted wooden cane stabbed at the mall’s tiled floor; furrowed brow beaten down by the harsh florescent lights. A display of bath salts through the window of a passing Lush tempted her to try again, but Gertrude had enough of these greedy humans and their accursed technology. She would tolerate nothing floral scented of the kind from now on.
Just as Gertrude resigned herself to another year of solitude in the swamp, a cautious hand tapped her shoulder. The witch cracked her neck carefully to the side to see a smiling young brunette woman accosting her. The stranger quickly stifled their devilish grin and held out a very threatening microphone.
“What is the craziest thing a man has ever asked you to do for him?” Her voice was sharp and practiced, followed by the fast pivot of her shoulders. Wasted motion in the space of what would later become a cut frame.
“Uhh…” Opening her cracked lips to buffer the silence with hesitation became an invitation for the stranger to lean in closer. Gertrude was sweating like she was under a death hex. Panicked, her eyes wavered from the beckoning microphone to spot another female stranger with phone outstretched and camera recording light on. In the seconds it took Gertrude to realize what was going on, she already looked like an absolute idiot. Her wizened posture was far too hunched to facilitate a smooth escape from this hostile interview, which was precisely what it was.
The camera woman snickered behind her phone while her co-conspirator shifted posture again. “Scratch that, what is the craziest thing you’ve ever done for a man’s attention?” Somehow, the question could get more belittling. It was accompanied by the smuggest smug little laugh Gertrude had ever heard.
“I…” Gertrude shot a deathly stare back at the woman accosting her, before realizing she was eyes deep in their perfectly sculpted collarbone and chest. “I won’t answer you!” And then for good measure. “Harlot! Wench!”
“Whoa!” The interviewer gasped in shock, trying to blink away her disbelief. The camera woman looked similarly taken aback, though her mouth was a widening grin. This was going to be great footage, no matter how the disaster unfolded. Editing in post would always make the crazy look even crazier. Already picturing the YouTube thumbnail in her mind’s eye, she didn’t dare miss a second of what would follow.
Gertrude felt reinvigorated in taking the upper hand of the situation with such a simple insult. Yes, this was the anger she’d felt earlier, brought back from an off-footed simmer to a full cauldron boil. In a practiced motion that none of the younger women could have predicted, Gertrude plunged her pinched fingers into the satchel at her side. It emerged swiftly after with a gush of green dust that flung into the face of the microphone-wielding girl. “Endare amals vu for hund!” This last part, anyone would understand, as Gertrude screamed it with emphasis. “BITCH!”
And with that, she stomped off triumphantly, though it was more like she slowly hobbled off while the girl gagged and choked on the mysterious powder hurled at her face. “Hhgn phhuhg fuck!” Another hacking cough. “What the fuck?”
“Hahah, she gassed you!” The camerawoman, Zoe, tilted her phone to catch one last look at the witch making her lumpy escape. “She’s the green gobbler!” Her skin did have a foul limestone shade to it, with a smell to match.
Isabella tried to maintain her composure for the shot, though her gagging was mostly genuine until the air cleared. “Ehg, fuck that was nasty. She fucking anthraxed me!” They both shared another scared laugh. “Ok cut cut, ew, really.”
Zoe clicked to end the recording and put the phone away. “Are you ok Bella?” She looked back into the crowd for the crazed hag to check that it was not some shared hallucination. “That was insane. Literally. Oh my god this is going to go viral. Getting assaulted by a fucking nutjob outside the Sears.” The weirder they were, the better the content. This could be their second tiktok to crack 100 million views!
Isabella would have agreed with that sentiment, hence why she approached the creepy lady in the first place. Immediately after the fact, however, her heart was racing as much as Zoe was smiling. “I think that’s *cough* enough…”
Zoe took out her phone again. “It’s probably enough.” Their other scripted ‘interviews’ would look dull in comparison to this absolute clip bait. Satisfied, and just a little shaken, the two women walked back to their blue mini cooper parked outside the mall.
“You drive?” Isabella was still coughing, her voice an almost growling, raspy tone. The younger of the pair by two years, her wavy hair was table wood brown with dark roots, pushed slightly to one side by her nervous hands pawing against her scalp. She had perfect creamy alabaster skin, wearing a thin white top with sleeves that scrunched at her wrist and an opaque white bra underneath. Brown gym shorts and wide thighs burned uncomfortably against the sunbathing passenger side car seat.
Zoe was taller by far, tanned and toned. A meshed black crop top shaded over her chest, deep blue skinny jeans tight around her forelegs. Her equally curly hair was cut short, ash black with red dyed tips which hugged her neck as she crammed herself behind the wheel and adjusted the headrest. “Seriously, are you ok?”
Another grating cough while Isabella massaged her sinus. “Uhg, noo. It tastes like lemon rind rubbed all over my mouth. Like, *coof* I’m having a chemical reaction.”
“Think we should go to the emergency room?”
“Fuck no, I don’t want to spend my night waiting in triage. Just take me home and make me some soup.”
“Roger that.” Zoe pulled the car through the parking lot, trusting Isabella to know if this was something urgent enough to worry over. A crazy lady’s mystery pocket powder couldn’t be that deadly. Still, her eyes would flick over to Isabella with each of her whining coughs.
As they merged onto the highway, the brunette turned the review mirror to examine herself. The area around her upper lip felt incredibly swollen and sensitive. The more Isabella prodded around the skin under her nose, the more she could feel it rolling forward and pushing into her cheeks. When she tried to drag a finger down under her eyelids to straighten out her face, the bulge around her philtrum didn’t separate from her lower nasial folds. “Hnnnn…” Isabella growled, pulling her face closer to the mirror.
“What are you doing?” Zoe chided while keeping her eyes on the road. “Just reapply your makeup once I get you home. I still want to do a few, like, post interview thoughts shots.” Good thing Isabella’s house was also where Zoe kept all their mic setups.
“I knooow.” Isabella made a sharp exhale which combined with a cough into a raspy bark. “*aarf* Fuck, Zoe, my nose is all puffy! Look!” A trick of the light inside the car made it look darkened and cracked too, slightly upturned even, if she squinted right.
“I can’t!” She was about to merge lanes, and to be frank, it was her friend’s noises that were more concerning to Zoe than their usual self-image hangups. “Stop coughing.”
“I’m not! *woof*” Zoe shot her friend a worrying glance and smacked at their hands messing with the mirror. “Sorry…” The weird and almost animalistic grunts kept sipping out of Isabel’s tender jawline. Without the mirror to worry over, her hands had to take turns nervously scratching through her hair, trying to ignore an odd skin flap she could feel on the tops of her ears. “Ooww.” She suddenly winced while trying to shift her hips, pushing herself forward when a boney nub on her waist poked painfully into the seat. “Zoe can you open the window, I’m sweating in here.” The mini cooper’s A/C was notoriously shitty, so Zoe had to watch out of the corner of her eye as Isabella stuck her whole head out of the open window.
“That hot, huh?”
“Mmmhnhg, *woof* it just feels so good!” She stuck out her tongue to taste the wind, lapping up mouthfuls of fresh air. Isabella’s hands held tight to the window edge, darkening nails that curled and scratched against the glass. Something about this feeling of the breeze catching in her hair also worked to blow away her worries. When she climbed her neck back into the car as they neared the house, her face was stuck with an absurdly giddy smile, mouth agape and tongue beating against the top of her teeth. Isabella’s face was noticeably changed, nose upshifted and merged with her lips. The whole of her mouth had slightly protruded, and the tips of her ears were folding over themselves like half-wrapped burritos.
“BELLA!” Zoe sputtered as her friend slipped out of the car, her shorts riding low from being pushed down by the seat. Not only exposing the black stripes of Isabella’s thin underwear, but a small tail stump as well.
“What?” She shouted back, pushing her shorts down even further as they both ran inside. Zoe had never carried much before if Isabella was pants-less in her own house, and the shorts were chaffing against the growth from her tailbone.
“That’s a fucking tail!” Nearly playing grab ass, Zoe pinched the hairy thumb-shaped extension of her friend’s coccyx. Isabella yipped loudly, pulling her hands against her chest.
“Owwwww! Stop it!” Scampering away down the hall, she flung herself into the safe clutches of her bed and the close proximity of her tablet. She swaddled the sheets around her face before looking up sheepishly to meet the stare of her friend. “Nnnhn, Zoe…” Her voice was a pleading whimper from under a whisker dotted pseudo-snout.
“Bella…” Zoe had followed her and now stood frozen in the doorway with a bewildered expression that neither woman was prepared to fully grapple with. “You look like a fucking dog?!”
“Is it that bad?” She quickly yanked the covers over her face, and in doing so, could more accurately feel the shape of her growing muzzle and the scrape of her thickening nails against the fabric sheets. A small tail twitched from its seat atop Isabella’s panties as she folded her legs underneath her ass. “It’s not that bad, right?”
“It’s kinda bad, yeah.”
Isabella woofed again, when what she meant to say was “Fuck!”
excellent manips.Might be my last story for a while, life is not so good right now so I appreciate your kind words as always.
-
“That’ll be 39.99.”
Gertrude winced and watched the cashier place the last of the spherical bath bombs into the paper bag. Setting her brown leather satchel on the counter, she fished out a handful of damaged five-dollar bills and counted through them. “Here.”
“Oh, sorry ma’am, we can’t take cash.” The employee slid her finger over to a laminated note hanging from her touch screen register. It said, “No cash.”
“Why not?” The witch scowled, her other hand halting as it curled around the bag of beauty products to lay claim on them prematurely.
“I’m very sorry?” The employee said, as if it was an answer, instead of a question to the whole world.
“I ought to hex you…” Gertrude muttered under her breath.
“Ma’am?”
“Nothing.”
“Do you have a credit card? Or you can do V-pay through your phone. You just need the app.”
She hissed as if struck through the thumb with a pin of silver. “Geahh, I don’t deal with machines of devil.” Her eyes hid under the wide brim of her pointy witch hat, snatching away her satchel from the befouled cashier. With a grumble of displeasure, Gertrude hobbled out of the Sephora in a huff. All dressed up in her robes of darkest night and for naught. Her knotted wooden cane stabbed at the mall’s tiled floor; furrowed brow beaten down by the harsh florescent lights. A display of bath salts through the window of a passing Lush tempted her to try again, but Gertrude had enough of these greedy humans and their accursed technology. She would tolerate nothing floral scented of the kind from now on.
Just as Gertrude resigned herself to another year of solitude in the swamp, a cautious hand tapped her shoulder. The witch cracked her neck carefully to the side to see a smiling young brunette woman accosting her. The stranger quickly stifled their devilish grin and held out a very threatening microphone.
“What is the craziest thing a man has ever asked you to do for him?” Her voice was sharp and practiced, followed by the fast pivot of her shoulders. Wasted motion in the space of what would later become a cut frame.
“Uhh…” Opening her cracked lips to buffer the silence with hesitation became an invitation for the stranger to lean in closer. Gertrude was sweating like she was under a death hex. Panicked, her eyes wavered from the beckoning microphone to spot another female stranger with phone outstretched and camera recording light on. In the seconds it took Gertrude to realize what was going on, she already looked like an absolute idiot. Her wizened posture was far too hunched to facilitate a smooth escape from this hostile interview, which was precisely what it was.
The camera woman snickered behind her phone while her co-conspirator shifted posture again. “Scratch that, what is the craziest thing you’ve ever done for a man’s attention?” Somehow, the question could get more belittling. It was accompanied by the smuggest smug little laugh Gertrude had ever heard.
“I…” Gertrude shot a deathly stare back at the woman accosting her, before realizing she was eyes deep in their perfectly sculpted collarbone and chest. “I won’t answer you!” And then for good measure. “Harlot! Wench!”
“Whoa!” The interviewer gasped in shock, trying to blink away her disbelief. The camera woman looked similarly taken aback, though her mouth was a widening grin. This was going to be great footage, no matter how the disaster unfolded. Editing in post would always make the crazy look even crazier. Already picturing the YouTube thumbnail in her mind’s eye, she didn’t dare miss a second of what would follow.
Gertrude felt reinvigorated in taking the upper hand of the situation with such a simple insult. Yes, this was the anger she’d felt earlier, brought back from an off-footed simmer to a full cauldron boil. In a practiced motion that none of the younger women could have predicted, Gertrude plunged her pinched fingers into the satchel at her side. It emerged swiftly after with a gush of green dust that flung into the face of the microphone-wielding girl. “Endare amals vu for hund!” This last part, anyone would understand, as Gertrude screamed it with emphasis. “BITCH!”
And with that, she stomped off triumphantly, though it was more like she slowly hobbled off while the girl gagged and choked on the mysterious powder hurled at her face. “Hhgn phhuhg fuck!” Another hacking cough. “What the fuck?”
“Hahah, she gassed you!” The camerawoman, Zoe, tilted her phone to catch one last look at the witch making her lumpy escape. “She’s the green gobbler!” Her skin did have a foul limestone shade to it, with a smell to match.
Isabella tried to maintain her composure for the shot, though her gagging was mostly genuine until the air cleared. “Ehg, fuck that was nasty. She fucking anthraxed me!” They both shared another scared laugh. “Ok cut cut, ew, really.”
Zoe clicked to end the recording and put the phone away. “Are you ok Bella?” She looked back into the crowd for the crazed hag to check that it was not some shared hallucination. “That was insane. Literally. Oh my god this is going to go viral. Getting assaulted by a fucking nutjob outside the Sears.” The weirder they were, the better the content. This could be their second tiktok to crack 100 million views!
Isabella would have agreed with that sentiment, hence why she approached the creepy lady in the first place. Immediately after the fact, however, her heart was racing as much as Zoe was smiling. “I think that’s *cough* enough…”
Zoe took out her phone again. “It’s probably enough.” Their other scripted ‘interviews’ would look dull in comparison to this absolute clip bait. Satisfied, and just a little shaken, the two women walked back to their blue mini cooper parked outside the mall.
“You drive?” Isabella was still coughing, her voice an almost growling, raspy tone. The younger of the pair by two years, her wavy hair was table wood brown with dark roots, pushed slightly to one side by her nervous hands pawing against her scalp. She had perfect creamy alabaster skin, wearing a thin white top with sleeves that scrunched at her wrist and an opaque white bra underneath. Brown gym shorts and wide thighs burned uncomfortably against the sunbathing passenger side car seat.
Zoe was taller by far, tanned and toned. A meshed black crop top shaded over her chest, deep blue skinny jeans tight around her forelegs. Her equally curly hair was cut short, ash black with red dyed tips which hugged her neck as she crammed herself behind the wheel and adjusted the headrest. “Seriously, are you ok?”
Another grating cough while Isabella massaged her sinus. “Uhg, noo. It tastes like lemon rind rubbed all over my mouth. Like, *coof* I’m having a chemical reaction.”
“Think we should go to the emergency room?”
“Fuck no, I don’t want to spend my night waiting in triage. Just take me home and make me some soup.”
“Roger that.” Zoe pulled the car through the parking lot, trusting Isabella to know if this was something urgent enough to worry over. A crazy lady’s mystery pocket powder couldn’t be that deadly. Still, her eyes would flick over to Isabella with each of her whining coughs.
As they merged onto the highway, the brunette turned the review mirror to examine herself. The area around her upper lip felt incredibly swollen and sensitive. The more Isabella prodded around the skin under her nose, the more she could feel it rolling forward and pushing into her cheeks. When she tried to drag a finger down under her eyelids to straighten out her face, the bulge around her philtrum didn’t separate from her lower nasial folds. “Hnnnn…” Isabella growled, pulling her face closer to the mirror.
“What are you doing?” Zoe chided while keeping her eyes on the road. “Just reapply your makeup once I get you home. I still want to do a few, like, post interview thoughts shots.” Good thing Isabella’s house was also where Zoe kept all their mic setups.
“I knooow.” Isabella made a sharp exhale which combined with a cough into a raspy bark. “*aarf* Fuck, Zoe, my nose is all puffy! Look!” A trick of the light inside the car made it look darkened and cracked too, slightly upturned even, if she squinted right.
“I can’t!” She was about to merge lanes, and to be frank, it was her friend’s noises that were more concerning to Zoe than their usual self-image hangups. “Stop coughing.”
“I’m not! *woof*” Zoe shot her friend a worrying glance and smacked at their hands messing with the mirror. “Sorry…” The weird and almost animalistic grunts kept sipping out of Isabel’s tender jawline. Without the mirror to worry over, her hands had to take turns nervously scratching through her hair, trying to ignore an odd skin flap she could feel on the tops of her ears. “Ooww.” She suddenly winced while trying to shift her hips, pushing herself forward when a boney nub on her waist poked painfully into the seat. “Zoe can you open the window, I’m sweating in here.” The mini cooper’s A/C was notoriously shitty, so Zoe had to watch out of the corner of her eye as Isabella stuck her whole head out of the open window.
“That hot, huh?”
“Mmmhnhg, *woof* it just feels so good!” She stuck out her tongue to taste the wind, lapping up mouthfuls of fresh air. Isabella’s hands held tight to the window edge, darkening nails that curled and scratched against the glass. Something about this feeling of the breeze catching in her hair also worked to blow away her worries. When she climbed her neck back into the car as they neared the house, her face was stuck with an absurdly giddy smile, mouth agape and tongue beating against the top of her teeth. Isabella’s face was noticeably changed, nose upshifted and merged with her lips. The whole of her mouth had slightly protruded, and the tips of her ears were folding over themselves like half-wrapped burritos.
“BELLA!” Zoe sputtered as her friend slipped out of the car, her shorts riding low from being pushed down by the seat. Not only exposing the black stripes of Isabella’s thin underwear, but a small tail stump as well.
“What?” She shouted back, pushing her shorts down even further as they both ran inside. Zoe had never carried much before if Isabella was pants-less in her own house, and the shorts were chaffing against the growth from her tailbone.
“That’s a fucking tail!” Nearly playing grab ass, Zoe pinched the hairy thumb-shaped extension of her friend’s coccyx. Isabella yipped loudly, pulling her hands against her chest.
“Owwwww! Stop it!” Scampering away down the hall, she flung herself into the safe clutches of her bed and the close proximity of her tablet. She swaddled the sheets around her face before looking up sheepishly to meet the stare of her friend. “Nnnhn, Zoe…” Her voice was a pleading whimper from under a whisker dotted pseudo-snout.
“Bella…” Zoe had followed her and now stood frozen in the doorway with a bewildered expression that neither woman was prepared to fully grapple with. “You look like a fucking dog?!”
“Is it that bad?” She quickly yanked the covers over her face, and in doing so, could more accurately feel the shape of her growing muzzle and the scrape of her thickening nails against the fabric sheets. A small tail twitched from its seat atop Isabella’s panties as she folded her legs underneath her ass. “It’s not that bad, right?”
“It’s kinda bad, yeah.”
Isabella woofed again, when what she meant to say was “Fuck!”
Category Story / Transformation
Species Dog (Other)
Size 1567 x 2351px
File Size 2.53 MB
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