(Man to Labrador Retriever)



I hate the park.



All I want to do is sit on a bench, listen to music, and take in the solace of nature. What I don't want to do, however, is be forced to answer yet another tourist's dimwitted question or listen to yet another activist's long-winded spiel.



It's entirely possible I'm being petty and that a non-introvert might actually enjoy the random interactions. Regardless, I can't help but grimace at the sight of a stranger making a start towards me. Ugh, here we go again. There isn't a clipboard in her hand, but I'm sure whatever she has to say will be equally as annoying.



The woman walks over to where I'm sitting, kneels down slightly, and... pets my head. What the hell? I forcefully push her hands away with my own and stare at her in shock. Who does something like that? The feeling was actually kind of nice, but I can't believe someone would have disregard respect for personal space!



"Oh, sorry little guy!" The lady pulls her hand back sheepishly. "It's just that looked so cute sitting over here alone; I simply had to give you a little pat on the head!"



A blank look comes across my face. I idly touch where on my head she had pet and have a chill shoot down my spine. How are my ears on top of my head now? Their texture is different, too — it feels like I'm touching fur!



Panic seems to vanish inside of me once the woman scratches behind my ear, making me exhale gently in relief. I know something is majorly wrong with having this lady's hands caress my head, but... dammit, the sensation is so incredible that I can't complain. I hardly notice a tail shooting out from my rear, wagging in pleasure through the back-slats of the bench.



"Aww, I can tell you like that, though!" A rumble rises in my throat and I involuntarily bark in response. I'm of course quick to panic at having sounded like a dog, but the woman in front of me laughs. "You're quite the talkative fellow, aren't you boy?"



I smile at the lady's praise. Another bark flies out of my lips in agreement as my tail wags wildly behind me. Barking is fun! I let out a few more ruffs just for the hell of it, my jaws looking more and more canine every time they clasp shut. My ears perk up from their now-lopped position at the lady reaching into her purse. My nose becomes blacker and wetter than before, and I'm too hypnotized by what I smell in her bag to notice how the sense is stronger.



Treats!



I yip uncontrollably at the sight of them, my lips looking more like flews with each arf that fills the air. She puts one in her palm and lets the scent of bacon waft over to me. I want it so badly! As she teases me with the treat, a stream of drool slowly dribbles down my droopy jowls.



Finally, the woman places the treat in her hand and gestures for me to come get it. I stop myself for a moment, realizing how dehumanizing it is to eat out of somebody's palm, but the tantalizing smell of the treat is soon too much to bear. I put my mouth into her hand and devour the treat as my head elongates in the process. My nose and mouth push out of my face to form a muzzle, the length of which slightly obscures my vision.



I finish the treat in no time but continue licking her bacon-smelling hand nevertheless. With each pass of it over her palm, my tongue swells in size until its mass completely fills my mouth. She moves her hand away from my mouth and onto my head in order to once again pet it. Only, this time, I don't try to stop her and instead loll my long tongue out the side of my mouth in pleasure.



The lady giggles and closes her purse. "I have to go now, but it nice to meet you, doggy!"



Doggy? I watch her walk away and blink. Why had she called me 'doggy'? I'm a person! Or, wait — had she gotten it right? In this pensive thinking, my blondish hair crawls across my face, covering the whole of my head of it in a saturated golden fluff.



"Hey, make room, mutt!"



A gruff voice pulls me out of my contemplation and at attention of a man standing in front of me. "This bench is for people, not dogs! Get on the ground where you belong."



I suddenly realize that he's right. I'm not a person... I'm a dog! An overwhelming compulsion to obey the man's orders comes across me as I jump off the bench. Upon landing, I'm able to feel how different the structure of my limbs are. All four had morphed into quadrupedal legs, and even though I know that I'm only supposed to be standing on two, the digitigrade-like stance I naturally fall into feels too natural for me to be alarmed by it.



Using my new walk cycle as though I'd been born with it, I walk away from the man whose seat I'd been in and laid down at the end of a row of benches. Only seconds later, however, another stranger approaches me.



"Ugh, would you look at that," he spits. "Why do people always have to dress their dogs up in outfits?"



Am I not meant to wear clothes? I can remember picking out my clothes this morning specifically with the intent of wearing them here, but something about the feeling of cloth on my skin feels so... wrong all of a sudden.



The man changes to addressing me directly. "Sorry that your owner made you wear all of this... I'm gonna help you out, little pooch!" He starts to strip me of my clothes, starting with my sweatshirt and top. For some reason, even though I can tell how none of this is normal, I find myself taking no issue as he removes my pants and eventually underwear. Again, upon him revealing my cock to the open air, I oddly feel no embarrassment from having it exposed.



"Much better!" the guy totes. "How about a little belly rub for being such a good boy?"



I begin to pant with excitement at hearing the words 'belly rub', and the feeling of satisfaction I receive by him calling me a 'good boy' causes me to instinctually assume a position on my back in anticipation. He starts rubbing the skin of my tummy, but soon enough the golden fur from my head migrates throughout my entire body and covering my skin in the coat of a Yellow Labrador.



I gotta show this person my thanks!



Jumping to my paws, I use my tongue to lick his face and find myself enjoying the salty taste of sweat on his skin. He laughs as he gets up, and its only by seeing how large he looms over me that I realize how much I've shrunk. The man walks away, and I can't help but feel like we should be at eye level to each other. Something seems off...



Frisbee!



My eyes catch a glimpse of a plastic disc flying overhead and I take off after it. I don't know why, but I need to catch it! I run faster that I ever have before through my canine gait only to lose sight of the discus over some bushes. I whimper slightly at having lost it but soon become aware of grass underpaw. Wait, where am I?



A nose up my asshole tells me the answer.



I bark in surprise at the Pomeranian who'd just stuck its sniffer in my rear and realize I'm in the middle of the Tampa Fe Dog Park! It isn't too far away from where I'd been, so I guess I must not have noticed the scene change upon entering it.



My eyes dart around at the dozens of dogs around me until I'm overwhelmed by a scent from nearby. My nose leads me to the source in a trancelike state and, without me even meaning for it to do so, ends up in the ass of a Husky. As my nostrils flare in reception of the doggy musk, pheromones waft through my olfactory system and make my eyes roll back in my head from stimulation. The structure of my nose makes it so that I can't smell anything potent; the only scents that ends up reaching my thalamus are euphoric.



I can tell so much about this Husky just from the single few sniffs I take. I can smell the female odor emanating from her rear and making me pant in lust. I can smell what she'd eaten for lunch today. I can smell how she's just slightly younger than me. I can smell that she's in heat.



My eyes shoot open at that least realization as the Husky she-dog looks at me with crazed eyes, licking her rubbery lips clean of drool. I become all-too-aware of a throbbing sensation in my groin as well as the scent of hormones drifting from hers. As they reach my nose, my eyes glaze over and reciprocate the lust-fueled gaze. At the sight of her assuming a lordosis posture, doggy instincts completely overtake my being.



This Husky bitch needs to be pleasured.



I hardly notice as my previous identity is rewritten until little remains, leaving an Labrador Retriever's mentality to slowly sweep across my being. I step forward and let out a dominant howl before mounting the Husky. Her moans of relief motivate me to finish as I'm completely engulfed with a horny canine's mindset.



I love the park!