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This story was inspired by MarisMolotov (https://www.furaffinity.net/user/marismolotov/)
If you like this kind of stories with a more dark and realistic approach to transformations, check out her gallery.
You can also find her in Deviantart under the name: TurnedIntoDragon
The poor girl’s eyes went wide as she looked down at her hands, suddenly realizing that they had been turned to the paws of an ordinary dog. She meant to call for help, but doing so would only attract other humans through the jingling of her collar that she would now spend the rest of her life with. Her new owner would soon arrive, and she would likely be leashed and taken out for a walk, much to her own dismay, spending the rest of her days as an obedient pet dog without any way to express her humanity.
Maris sighed as she continued to edit the final parts of her story. The words she wrote for her new TF victim were brutal, but that’s what made it a good story. Besides, it’s not like she would ever do something so terrible in real life - it was just a character, right?
That was just another regular day for the writer girl. Another commission to finish. Another story to write. Another character to torture and humiliate, transforming their body into any animal she saw fit in the most evil way she could think off…
Maris was never content with merely transforming her characters. She always made sure to strip them of every drop of humanity and rob them of their entire lives while they panicked and squirmed helplessly claiming for a mercy that would never come.
— This one will spend the rest of their life as a collared dog, the next will mess up when casting a spell and end up as a tiny insect, and the one after that will make the mistake of breaking up with a witch girlfriend...
Maris felt an indescribable pleasure in reducing a former human to the most ridiculous forms. Taking away everything from them until there was nothing left but shame and despair. The process of breaking a character down psychologically was more satisfying than the physical parts of the transformation.
"Little did she know her opinion would change if the roles were to be reversed."
— Who said that? — Maris turned around on the chair, interrupting her writing. Eyes wide open and heart pumping with fear, searching for the source of that strange voice.
"She looked all over her bedroom, but there was nothing to be seen. The girl was simply imagining things"
— I'm not imagining! I can hear you! Who the hell are you? — she stood up shaking, then grabbed her desk lamp as if it was a weapon — Show yourself!
"The scared girl brandished her makeshift club, trying to intimidate the voice in her fertile imagination, yet only managed to make a fool of herself."
— Stop talking! — she swung the lamp in the air — I'm going to... I'm gonna crush your skull with my... My...
"Soon the girl realized she wasn't holding a desk lamp, but a squeaky rubber banana"
Squeak!
— Aaah! — Maris immediately released the banana on the floor as she gasped and brought both hands to her face — What's going on?
"The banana bounced on the floor twice, looking silly and out of place. It had nothing to do with the rest of the room just like it had no use for the girl anymore. What was once a lamp designed to illuminate her room was turned into nothing more than a useless banana*
— What do you want with me!
"If that lamp-turned-to-banana had sentience, it would feel very embarrassed and confused. Maybe with a hint of panic as it no longer had the form it had grown accustomed to. Questions would be rushing through its head, none of which there would be answers for, unless the helpless banana accepted the simple explanation that some entity decided to reshape it for no reason other than its own amusement. That lamp would now be a banana for the rest of its existence, without a hint of ever being something else except for its own memory of how it used to be."
— Is this a dream? — the girl tried to wake up with no success. She pinched herself. Looked at the time on her clock, the palms of her hand, her reflection on the window, and everything that was known to make people spot a dream. Yet everything was normal... Everything was real...
"It makes no sense to talk about silly rubber bananas and their hypothetical feelings. We would go on in circles without getting anywhere. The best way for that writer girl to truly understand what the babanafied lamp was feeling, would be to undergo a change of similar nature"
— No! No! Stay away from me! — Maris pressed her back against a wall, cowering and shivering against that omnipresent entity that had suddenly appeared in her life — Are you God? Are you trying to punish me?
"Relatively speaking, if one was to consider the concept of god in a more broad sense, it could be said that the girl had been visited by the god of her world. Yet not in a religious manner. The voice speaking to the writer girl was as much a god to her as she was a god to the characters in her stories”
— No! I'm not a character! This is real life! — she yelled trying to sound certain, but her eyes were filled with doubt — You are just in my imagination! I'm just way too creative! You are a voice in my head and I control what you say.
"Some truths are hard to accept. Just like the caveman in an island couldn't fathom a world past the horizon. Just like the farmers of middle age couldn't imagine a planet other than their own. Just like she could never accept that her world was nothing but a story written for the enjoyment of the reader, and to the dismay of the character. Everything is real to them, everything is self contained in their reality. How could she ever accept a truth that went against everything else without thinking she was merely going mad?"
— You are just a voice in my head! — she closed her eyes and concentrated — It's not real... It's not real! I'm gonna open my eyes and the lamp will be in my desk again!
She opened her eyes...
“To her surprise, not only the lamp was still a banana on the floor, but there was also something tight pressing against her neck…”
— NO — her eyes desperately looked down as her hands explored an annoying circular shape strapped around her neck — Please, not a collar… Please, not a collar!
She faced herself in the mirror, but for some reason, the object on her neck was blurry and unrecognizable, yet it slowly took form as the voice started to describe it...
“For her dismay, it was a collar. Very similar to those used by house pets, made of some cheap polimer with an engraved tag featuring her name.”
— Lady? — she read the tag on the mirror — That’s not my name, you idiot! My name is…
She paused…
— My name is…
“Her eyes started to water down as she seemed to forget something so trivial. It was right there at the tip of her tongue. Her name! The name she used her whole life, that she signed her stories with! What was her goddamn name?”
“Lady was a very good name for a pet.”
— That’s not my name!
She reached for her phone to check the message that was always floating at the unlock screen to tell who’s phone it was...
“The screen said: Lady’s phone.”
— This has to be a joke! — then she had an idea — My apps! My name should be in one of them!
“However, her hands were so shaky that the phone escaped her grasp and fell on the floor with a squeaky sound”
— Fuck no! — she picked it up quickly and was dumbfounded to find it still intact — I can’t believe it didn’t break.
“When her fingers pressed the screen again, the thing that used to be her phone released a soft creak. The silly girl was trying to play with her toy bone as if it was a phone.”
— Please… Stop it… I beg you…
“She opened her hands and the rubber bone that used to be a phone fell again, bouncing twice until it rested close to the banana. She knew very well what was about to happen. She had written things like that over and over again. The plot was probably already forming on her head, hundreds of ideas and possible ways it could all go down. A girl sits in her room and suddenly finds herself turning into an animal - perhaps it was a ploy by her ex, or a result of drinking a spiced drink, or simply the story would not require an explanation so long as the viewers enjoy watching a human forced into the life of an animal. Yet, this time it was different. Just one simple detail that made everything completely different. Instead of being the writer, she was the character.”
— I’m real! Stop doing it to me! — she held the collar with both hands and tried to take it off her, but her fingers couldn’t find anything to open.
“Unlike a regular collar, that one had no buckle, button, zipper or anything. I was simply perfectly fit for her neck. Just to tease her with a possible freedom, the thing could stretch out just a little bit, enough for her pinky to go through.”
— Think! Think! — she walked in circles around the room — I’ve written shit like this a hundred times! I should know of a way out of this!
"Poor Lady kept thinking about a solution, going through all the stories in her mind, trying to find a plot hole she could explore."
— My name is not Lady!
"Said Lady. Then she reached for a pair of scissors on her desk and stretched her collar just enough to put a blade under it. With a quick snip the object was cut and fell to the ground. Releasing her from the embarrassment of wearing such a silly thing, proving that she was indeed more powerful than her TFed victims."
— Ha! Got you! If it was my story, the collar would be indestructible and unstretchable! Or I would have grown paws before I could pick up the scissors!
"However, what she didn't know was that the collar had nothing to do with the transformation she would soon undergo. In fact, taking it off might’ve not been a smart idea, since a dog without a collar is nothing but a stray, destined to live on the streets until a kind hearted owner decides to adopt her.”
— No! You can’t do this to me! I’m not a stray, or a dog at all! I’m the one that turns people into dogs… and cows… and rats… and whatever I want my victims to spend the rest of their lives as!
“She desperately tried to retrieve the collar from the ground, in an attempt to recover the name and the home she so eagerly tossed away a few moments ago. But when she blinked, the collar was gone, and so was her carpet, her toy bone, the rubber banana, her desk, bed, bedroom, everything… The now nameless girl was standing on the sidewalk of some unknown street.”
— Not like this — she said in a whispering tone, afraid that everyone walking nearby would think she was mad from talking alone — I take it back… Give me the collar… I take it… please… Give me back my home…I Accept being called L… Being called… That other name… no.... no… no — As she had transformed many characters in a similar manner, she knew the terrifying extent of how it was about to be if something wasn’t done quickly.
“Without her collar, she was just a stray, not even with a human or pet name at this point.”
— My house… I just have to find my house again — she looked around — I know this street… I’ve been here before… I just have to…
“Yet she didn't remember where her house was. If only the poor writer girl had a tag to tell her the address…”
— I just have to ask around… People should remember me… I live close by…
“She desperately scanned the other pedestrians, searching for any familiar face she could find. Most people just glanced at her quickly and continued to mind their own business, however a guy seemed to look directly to her eyes and smile, waving a hand to say hello.”
— H-hey! — she recognized the man and waved back — Hello!
— Oh, you! Long time no see! — the man smiled — Whatcha doing today?
— I am…
“She stopped for a moment, not sure how weirdly it would sound if she asked him for directions to her house. What kind of people ask directions for their own house? What would he think of her? She had to find a way to get back home without sounding stupid. But then, she knew exactly how to word her question. The girl opened her mouth and.”
— Woof! — she instinctively covered her mouth, face turning red from the embarrassment of publicly barking at someone. Just like how she would describe it in her stories, the human was suddenly unable to force human words from her vocal cords.
— Hey… Calm down — the guy said, chuckling.
“The stray writer didn’t know if she was supposed to ask for help or run and hide. Part of her wanted to stick her head in a hole, but the other half desperately wanted help. She knew very well what lied ahead of her. A life as a dog. At that point there was no negotiation, there was no turning back, just like in her own stories, she was about to be slowly stripped of her humanity.”
— Please youff need… arf… to… woof… helpff… woof… woof!
“Tears began to form on her eyes as she was robbed of yet another thing. First her name, then her home, now her words. She wanted to scream for help. She wanted to tell him about her situation. She wanted to open herself and tell him she was about to be turned into a dog. She wanted to beg him to take care of her, because she knew once her changes were complete, nobody would recognize her anymore and she would be just a dog for everyone else.”
— Woof! Woof! arf arf arf ruff! — she advanced towards the man, barking and drooling, sniffing and crying while her face elongated, merging her upper lips with her nose, quickly covering the bottom of her field of view with a snout.
— Calm down, girl — the man raised his hands defensively, walking backwards.
“She wrote many stories like that, so she knew exactly what to do in order to get a slightly better ending than most of her character ever had the chance of. While most of her characters would run and hide, trying to conceal the changes from everyone and avoid a public humiliation, the writer knew she had to do the opposite of that.”
— Woof woof! — she grabbed the man’s shirt with her sharp nails, her fingers shrinking into round stumps and her palms growing soft nubs. She begged him to stay around and not leave her alone.
— H-hey! Stop — he tried pulling his shirt back — You are scaring me…
“It went against her very human nature to allow anyone to see her humiliating transformation. Her instincts told her to hide, but she insisted on being seen. At least one person had to know she was once human! She didn't want to be a dog for the rest of her life without anyone to comfort her. She wanted people to see! She wanted people to know she was human! If she would be forced to live the fate of a fetish story character, she would make sure that the entire world could watch and panic at the sight! No matter how humiliating that felt! Because that humiliation was less painful than being forgotten forever!"
— Woof ruff! — her paws slipped from the man as he ran away from her in terror. The only person she knew in that street had abandoned her.
"The poor girl tried to chase after him, but soon found herself tripping on her own legs as they shifted and became shorter, each of them covered in light brown fur and ending in tiny paws that no longer fit her shoes. The former girl may have described her characters’ reduction to quadrupedalism quite verbosely in her own stories, but she was nonetheless inexperienced with this mode of travel herself, as she quickly realized it wasn’t one bit like what she expected."
— Ruff! Woof! (Please, come back!)
"She squirmed on the sidewalk, trying to get up, but having to fight her own clothes as they seemed many numbers above her size. The girl shook her body furiously and eventually managed to release herself from that constricting human clothing that no longer fitted her. Her changing body was displayed for everyone to see."
— Woof! (Anyone... Please) — she glanced at every other person on the street, but they all seemed to keep distance — Woof woof! (C'mon! A girl is turning into a dog in front of your eyes! Film me with your phones, idiots! Please film me so my family and friends can find me and take care of me!)
"Her limbs had already shaped into furry legs and the girl was forced to walk on her fours. She had a long snout still covered only by skin. Her torso was human and her boobs dangled freely for anyone to stare at."
— Woof! (Anyone, please! I don't want to be alone! Don't ignore me!)
"Her fear and despair couldn't be properly conveyed through her dog-like muzzle, meaning she was in need of something more adequate for that role"
— Ruff (Not a tail... No...)
"It felt as if her spine was pulled out and stretched like a rubber band. As the tail quickly grew, it immediately tucked between her legs to finally let the world know how scared she truly was, and it felt just as backbreaking to suddenly sprout the signature feature of an animal, as she had written in her stories over and over again.”
— That dog just attacked a guy for no reason — said someone.
— Mommy! That dog is angry — said a kid.
— This neighborhood is full of stupid rabid mutts!
— Gruff woof woof! (I'm not a dog! Look at me! I'm still half human!)
"The girl was still having problems accepting her new identity, even if the rest of the world had already acknowledged it long ago."
— Woooof ruuf! (Shut up you stupid narrator!)
"She even barked and growled at the voice in her imagination. Which was now the only thing in existence that knew who she truly was"
— Woof woof woof (What did I do to deserve this? They were all characters! Everyone I harmed was just a character in a story! I never hurt anyone in my life! This is not fair!)
"The poor character continued to bark at the ghostly voice"
— Woof! (I'm not a character... I'm real...)
"She curled into a ball of fur and sobbed as her last changes took place and forever turned her into a small brown mutt with no discernible race, the kind that nobody would ever question for acting strange, as the writer had decided to keep her as a mutt forever. Her human features vanished and everyone walking nearby thought she was just a lost puppy scared of the noisy town"
— Woof woof! (Someone! Please! You all have seen me transform! You know I’m human! Help me please!)
“Those kinds of stories would often please her to no end. The slow destruction of a human life until there was only a scared animal left. She loved to write about it. She loved to see her characters slowly succumb until the eventual realization that their whole existence was reduced to nothing more than a silly pet or a farm animal. But compared to them, the poor girl would have a much worse destiny.”
— Arf woof ruff! (This is not fair! You tricked me! You never gave me a chance!)
“While her characters usually had an owner at the very least, the writer girl had no owner, no home and no name. Just a stray mutt left alone. She rejected her own name, her own collar, her own toys. She threw away everything, and it would only be a matter of time before she threw away her hope.”
— WOOF WOOF! (Anyone! Please! I accept any owner! please! I beg you!)
“Yet nobody wanted her, for that puppy was just an angry stray.”
— Arf knngh! (Change me back… please! I’d do anything! I promise I’ll never write again! I promise I’ll rewrite all my stories with good endings! Anything! I don’t want to be reduced to a short humiliation story that people make weird, perverted comments about!)
“I wonder how she feels to be on the other side?”
— Ruff arf! (It’s awful! I admit it! Nobody should go through this! Not even a fictional character! Please! Please!)
“Does she already think it’s too much? She barely spent a day as a dog and she already acts as if the worst had already come.”
— W-w-wrruff arf (I beg you… please… please)
“She was already shivering under the anticipation, for she knew there was a whole life ahead of herself, as she had written it out for many of her victims who would never see their human hands again. The full experience was just starting, even if the book would close soon. Some say that an author should understand her characters by feeling what they feel, and what a better way than experiencing herself the thrill of that exciting adventure to its full extent.”
— RRRUF! WOOF! (This is not exciting! This is terrible! I don’t want to spend my life like this!)
“And so began her new life. The first chapter of a lifetime journey just waiting to be explored.”
— WOOF! (please…)
“...”
— arf… (please…)
The voice was gone.
The story was over.
Well…
It was over for everyone else, except for her.
Everyone already had their fun reading about her demise.
People finished the story and went for the next one.
Perhaps they would leave a teasing phrase in the comment section.
Meanwhile, the girl was left there, hanging in the story.
For the tale meant for the reader was over.
Her job as a character was complete.
All that was left for her was to continue living that dog life.
Alone.
With nobody to read what she thought.
Nobody to read what she did.
A life forgotten.
A life consumed because of a story.
Years of punishment after a few pages of fun.
Her years of work up to this point being erased.
All of her hopes and dreams gone for the sake of viewer enjoyment.
Such is the fate of a character.
To be used.
To feel what the readers can’t feel themselves.
To give them a thrill for the part of the transformation they want to experience, but leave the uncomfortable bits aside.
Leaving it convenient for them to not think about how the victim’s family would react to suddenly losing their daughter, and how many nights the victim would cry in loneliness.
She had years of living on the streets ahead of herself.
Years of escaping other dogs whenever she went into heat.
Years of feeding off trash and surviving thanks to the charity of others.
Surviving simply because she knew nothing else to do.
There were no dreams to achieve and no higher purpose for her life now. Yet she fought to survive simply because of the instinct that drives every living organism to do so.
Years and years would pass for the former human, no longer able to write a story, or finish any of the plans she once had for her human life that had been suddenly cut short.
One day, long after her family and friends would get over her loss, she would grow old and pass away at some alley. But not as a girl. Not a pet. Just another nameless dog on the streets.
Yet, you don't want to read about that.
The sad consequences are not what you came here for.
The girl lost her life because you wanted a story.
Are you happy?
But why should you care for her?
After all, she was just a character, right?
.
.
.
Right?
If you like this kind of stories with a more dark and realistic approach to transformations, check out her gallery.
You can also find her in Deviantart under the name: TurnedIntoDragon
The poor girl’s eyes went wide as she looked down at her hands, suddenly realizing that they had been turned to the paws of an ordinary dog. She meant to call for help, but doing so would only attract other humans through the jingling of her collar that she would now spend the rest of her life with. Her new owner would soon arrive, and she would likely be leashed and taken out for a walk, much to her own dismay, spending the rest of her days as an obedient pet dog without any way to express her humanity.
Maris sighed as she continued to edit the final parts of her story. The words she wrote for her new TF victim were brutal, but that’s what made it a good story. Besides, it’s not like she would ever do something so terrible in real life - it was just a character, right?
That was just another regular day for the writer girl. Another commission to finish. Another story to write. Another character to torture and humiliate, transforming their body into any animal she saw fit in the most evil way she could think off…
Maris was never content with merely transforming her characters. She always made sure to strip them of every drop of humanity and rob them of their entire lives while they panicked and squirmed helplessly claiming for a mercy that would never come.
— This one will spend the rest of their life as a collared dog, the next will mess up when casting a spell and end up as a tiny insect, and the one after that will make the mistake of breaking up with a witch girlfriend...
Maris felt an indescribable pleasure in reducing a former human to the most ridiculous forms. Taking away everything from them until there was nothing left but shame and despair. The process of breaking a character down psychologically was more satisfying than the physical parts of the transformation.
"Little did she know her opinion would change if the roles were to be reversed."
— Who said that? — Maris turned around on the chair, interrupting her writing. Eyes wide open and heart pumping with fear, searching for the source of that strange voice.
"She looked all over her bedroom, but there was nothing to be seen. The girl was simply imagining things"
— I'm not imagining! I can hear you! Who the hell are you? — she stood up shaking, then grabbed her desk lamp as if it was a weapon — Show yourself!
"The scared girl brandished her makeshift club, trying to intimidate the voice in her fertile imagination, yet only managed to make a fool of herself."
— Stop talking! — she swung the lamp in the air — I'm going to... I'm gonna crush your skull with my... My...
"Soon the girl realized she wasn't holding a desk lamp, but a squeaky rubber banana"
Squeak!
— Aaah! — Maris immediately released the banana on the floor as she gasped and brought both hands to her face — What's going on?
"The banana bounced on the floor twice, looking silly and out of place. It had nothing to do with the rest of the room just like it had no use for the girl anymore. What was once a lamp designed to illuminate her room was turned into nothing more than a useless banana*
— What do you want with me!
"If that lamp-turned-to-banana had sentience, it would feel very embarrassed and confused. Maybe with a hint of panic as it no longer had the form it had grown accustomed to. Questions would be rushing through its head, none of which there would be answers for, unless the helpless banana accepted the simple explanation that some entity decided to reshape it for no reason other than its own amusement. That lamp would now be a banana for the rest of its existence, without a hint of ever being something else except for its own memory of how it used to be."
— Is this a dream? — the girl tried to wake up with no success. She pinched herself. Looked at the time on her clock, the palms of her hand, her reflection on the window, and everything that was known to make people spot a dream. Yet everything was normal... Everything was real...
"It makes no sense to talk about silly rubber bananas and their hypothetical feelings. We would go on in circles without getting anywhere. The best way for that writer girl to truly understand what the babanafied lamp was feeling, would be to undergo a change of similar nature"
— No! No! Stay away from me! — Maris pressed her back against a wall, cowering and shivering against that omnipresent entity that had suddenly appeared in her life — Are you God? Are you trying to punish me?
"Relatively speaking, if one was to consider the concept of god in a more broad sense, it could be said that the girl had been visited by the god of her world. Yet not in a religious manner. The voice speaking to the writer girl was as much a god to her as she was a god to the characters in her stories”
— No! I'm not a character! This is real life! — she yelled trying to sound certain, but her eyes were filled with doubt — You are just in my imagination! I'm just way too creative! You are a voice in my head and I control what you say.
"Some truths are hard to accept. Just like the caveman in an island couldn't fathom a world past the horizon. Just like the farmers of middle age couldn't imagine a planet other than their own. Just like she could never accept that her world was nothing but a story written for the enjoyment of the reader, and to the dismay of the character. Everything is real to them, everything is self contained in their reality. How could she ever accept a truth that went against everything else without thinking she was merely going mad?"
— You are just a voice in my head! — she closed her eyes and concentrated — It's not real... It's not real! I'm gonna open my eyes and the lamp will be in my desk again!
She opened her eyes...
“To her surprise, not only the lamp was still a banana on the floor, but there was also something tight pressing against her neck…”
— NO — her eyes desperately looked down as her hands explored an annoying circular shape strapped around her neck — Please, not a collar… Please, not a collar!
She faced herself in the mirror, but for some reason, the object on her neck was blurry and unrecognizable, yet it slowly took form as the voice started to describe it...
“For her dismay, it was a collar. Very similar to those used by house pets, made of some cheap polimer with an engraved tag featuring her name.”
— Lady? — she read the tag on the mirror — That’s not my name, you idiot! My name is…
She paused…
— My name is…
“Her eyes started to water down as she seemed to forget something so trivial. It was right there at the tip of her tongue. Her name! The name she used her whole life, that she signed her stories with! What was her goddamn name?”
“Lady was a very good name for a pet.”
— That’s not my name!
She reached for her phone to check the message that was always floating at the unlock screen to tell who’s phone it was...
“The screen said: Lady’s phone.”
— This has to be a joke! — then she had an idea — My apps! My name should be in one of them!
“However, her hands were so shaky that the phone escaped her grasp and fell on the floor with a squeaky sound”
— Fuck no! — she picked it up quickly and was dumbfounded to find it still intact — I can’t believe it didn’t break.
“When her fingers pressed the screen again, the thing that used to be her phone released a soft creak. The silly girl was trying to play with her toy bone as if it was a phone.”
— Please… Stop it… I beg you…
“She opened her hands and the rubber bone that used to be a phone fell again, bouncing twice until it rested close to the banana. She knew very well what was about to happen. She had written things like that over and over again. The plot was probably already forming on her head, hundreds of ideas and possible ways it could all go down. A girl sits in her room and suddenly finds herself turning into an animal - perhaps it was a ploy by her ex, or a result of drinking a spiced drink, or simply the story would not require an explanation so long as the viewers enjoy watching a human forced into the life of an animal. Yet, this time it was different. Just one simple detail that made everything completely different. Instead of being the writer, she was the character.”
— I’m real! Stop doing it to me! — she held the collar with both hands and tried to take it off her, but her fingers couldn’t find anything to open.
“Unlike a regular collar, that one had no buckle, button, zipper or anything. I was simply perfectly fit for her neck. Just to tease her with a possible freedom, the thing could stretch out just a little bit, enough for her pinky to go through.”
— Think! Think! — she walked in circles around the room — I’ve written shit like this a hundred times! I should know of a way out of this!
"Poor Lady kept thinking about a solution, going through all the stories in her mind, trying to find a plot hole she could explore."
— My name is not Lady!
"Said Lady. Then she reached for a pair of scissors on her desk and stretched her collar just enough to put a blade under it. With a quick snip the object was cut and fell to the ground. Releasing her from the embarrassment of wearing such a silly thing, proving that she was indeed more powerful than her TFed victims."
— Ha! Got you! If it was my story, the collar would be indestructible and unstretchable! Or I would have grown paws before I could pick up the scissors!
"However, what she didn't know was that the collar had nothing to do with the transformation she would soon undergo. In fact, taking it off might’ve not been a smart idea, since a dog without a collar is nothing but a stray, destined to live on the streets until a kind hearted owner decides to adopt her.”
— No! You can’t do this to me! I’m not a stray, or a dog at all! I’m the one that turns people into dogs… and cows… and rats… and whatever I want my victims to spend the rest of their lives as!
“She desperately tried to retrieve the collar from the ground, in an attempt to recover the name and the home she so eagerly tossed away a few moments ago. But when she blinked, the collar was gone, and so was her carpet, her toy bone, the rubber banana, her desk, bed, bedroom, everything… The now nameless girl was standing on the sidewalk of some unknown street.”
— Not like this — she said in a whispering tone, afraid that everyone walking nearby would think she was mad from talking alone — I take it back… Give me the collar… I take it… please… Give me back my home…I Accept being called L… Being called… That other name… no.... no… no — As she had transformed many characters in a similar manner, she knew the terrifying extent of how it was about to be if something wasn’t done quickly.
“Without her collar, she was just a stray, not even with a human or pet name at this point.”
— My house… I just have to find my house again — she looked around — I know this street… I’ve been here before… I just have to…
“Yet she didn't remember where her house was. If only the poor writer girl had a tag to tell her the address…”
— I just have to ask around… People should remember me… I live close by…
“She desperately scanned the other pedestrians, searching for any familiar face she could find. Most people just glanced at her quickly and continued to mind their own business, however a guy seemed to look directly to her eyes and smile, waving a hand to say hello.”
— H-hey! — she recognized the man and waved back — Hello!
— Oh, you! Long time no see! — the man smiled — Whatcha doing today?
— I am…
“She stopped for a moment, not sure how weirdly it would sound if she asked him for directions to her house. What kind of people ask directions for their own house? What would he think of her? She had to find a way to get back home without sounding stupid. But then, she knew exactly how to word her question. The girl opened her mouth and.”
— Woof! — she instinctively covered her mouth, face turning red from the embarrassment of publicly barking at someone. Just like how she would describe it in her stories, the human was suddenly unable to force human words from her vocal cords.
— Hey… Calm down — the guy said, chuckling.
“The stray writer didn’t know if she was supposed to ask for help or run and hide. Part of her wanted to stick her head in a hole, but the other half desperately wanted help. She knew very well what lied ahead of her. A life as a dog. At that point there was no negotiation, there was no turning back, just like in her own stories, she was about to be slowly stripped of her humanity.”
— Please youff need… arf… to… woof… helpff… woof… woof!
“Tears began to form on her eyes as she was robbed of yet another thing. First her name, then her home, now her words. She wanted to scream for help. She wanted to tell him about her situation. She wanted to open herself and tell him she was about to be turned into a dog. She wanted to beg him to take care of her, because she knew once her changes were complete, nobody would recognize her anymore and she would be just a dog for everyone else.”
— Woof! Woof! arf arf arf ruff! — she advanced towards the man, barking and drooling, sniffing and crying while her face elongated, merging her upper lips with her nose, quickly covering the bottom of her field of view with a snout.
— Calm down, girl — the man raised his hands defensively, walking backwards.
“She wrote many stories like that, so she knew exactly what to do in order to get a slightly better ending than most of her character ever had the chance of. While most of her characters would run and hide, trying to conceal the changes from everyone and avoid a public humiliation, the writer knew she had to do the opposite of that.”
— Woof woof! — she grabbed the man’s shirt with her sharp nails, her fingers shrinking into round stumps and her palms growing soft nubs. She begged him to stay around and not leave her alone.
— H-hey! Stop — he tried pulling his shirt back — You are scaring me…
“It went against her very human nature to allow anyone to see her humiliating transformation. Her instincts told her to hide, but she insisted on being seen. At least one person had to know she was once human! She didn't want to be a dog for the rest of her life without anyone to comfort her. She wanted people to see! She wanted people to know she was human! If she would be forced to live the fate of a fetish story character, she would make sure that the entire world could watch and panic at the sight! No matter how humiliating that felt! Because that humiliation was less painful than being forgotten forever!"
— Woof ruff! — her paws slipped from the man as he ran away from her in terror. The only person she knew in that street had abandoned her.
"The poor girl tried to chase after him, but soon found herself tripping on her own legs as they shifted and became shorter, each of them covered in light brown fur and ending in tiny paws that no longer fit her shoes. The former girl may have described her characters’ reduction to quadrupedalism quite verbosely in her own stories, but she was nonetheless inexperienced with this mode of travel herself, as she quickly realized it wasn’t one bit like what she expected."
— Ruff! Woof! (Please, come back!)
"She squirmed on the sidewalk, trying to get up, but having to fight her own clothes as they seemed many numbers above her size. The girl shook her body furiously and eventually managed to release herself from that constricting human clothing that no longer fitted her. Her changing body was displayed for everyone to see."
— Woof! (Anyone... Please) — she glanced at every other person on the street, but they all seemed to keep distance — Woof woof! (C'mon! A girl is turning into a dog in front of your eyes! Film me with your phones, idiots! Please film me so my family and friends can find me and take care of me!)
"Her limbs had already shaped into furry legs and the girl was forced to walk on her fours. She had a long snout still covered only by skin. Her torso was human and her boobs dangled freely for anyone to stare at."
— Woof! (Anyone, please! I don't want to be alone! Don't ignore me!)
"Her fear and despair couldn't be properly conveyed through her dog-like muzzle, meaning she was in need of something more adequate for that role"
— Ruff (Not a tail... No...)
"It felt as if her spine was pulled out and stretched like a rubber band. As the tail quickly grew, it immediately tucked between her legs to finally let the world know how scared she truly was, and it felt just as backbreaking to suddenly sprout the signature feature of an animal, as she had written in her stories over and over again.”
— That dog just attacked a guy for no reason — said someone.
— Mommy! That dog is angry — said a kid.
— This neighborhood is full of stupid rabid mutts!
— Gruff woof woof! (I'm not a dog! Look at me! I'm still half human!)
"The girl was still having problems accepting her new identity, even if the rest of the world had already acknowledged it long ago."
— Woooof ruuf! (Shut up you stupid narrator!)
"She even barked and growled at the voice in her imagination. Which was now the only thing in existence that knew who she truly was"
— Woof woof woof (What did I do to deserve this? They were all characters! Everyone I harmed was just a character in a story! I never hurt anyone in my life! This is not fair!)
"The poor character continued to bark at the ghostly voice"
— Woof! (I'm not a character... I'm real...)
"She curled into a ball of fur and sobbed as her last changes took place and forever turned her into a small brown mutt with no discernible race, the kind that nobody would ever question for acting strange, as the writer had decided to keep her as a mutt forever. Her human features vanished and everyone walking nearby thought she was just a lost puppy scared of the noisy town"
— Woof woof! (Someone! Please! You all have seen me transform! You know I’m human! Help me please!)
“Those kinds of stories would often please her to no end. The slow destruction of a human life until there was only a scared animal left. She loved to write about it. She loved to see her characters slowly succumb until the eventual realization that their whole existence was reduced to nothing more than a silly pet or a farm animal. But compared to them, the poor girl would have a much worse destiny.”
— Arf woof ruff! (This is not fair! You tricked me! You never gave me a chance!)
“While her characters usually had an owner at the very least, the writer girl had no owner, no home and no name. Just a stray mutt left alone. She rejected her own name, her own collar, her own toys. She threw away everything, and it would only be a matter of time before she threw away her hope.”
— WOOF WOOF! (Anyone! Please! I accept any owner! please! I beg you!)
“Yet nobody wanted her, for that puppy was just an angry stray.”
— Arf knngh! (Change me back… please! I’d do anything! I promise I’ll never write again! I promise I’ll rewrite all my stories with good endings! Anything! I don’t want to be reduced to a short humiliation story that people make weird, perverted comments about!)
“I wonder how she feels to be on the other side?”
— Ruff arf! (It’s awful! I admit it! Nobody should go through this! Not even a fictional character! Please! Please!)
“Does she already think it’s too much? She barely spent a day as a dog and she already acts as if the worst had already come.”
— W-w-wrruff arf (I beg you… please… please)
“She was already shivering under the anticipation, for she knew there was a whole life ahead of herself, as she had written it out for many of her victims who would never see their human hands again. The full experience was just starting, even if the book would close soon. Some say that an author should understand her characters by feeling what they feel, and what a better way than experiencing herself the thrill of that exciting adventure to its full extent.”
— RRRUF! WOOF! (This is not exciting! This is terrible! I don’t want to spend my life like this!)
“And so began her new life. The first chapter of a lifetime journey just waiting to be explored.”
— WOOF! (please…)
“...”
— arf… (please…)
The voice was gone.
The story was over.
Well…
It was over for everyone else, except for her.
Everyone already had their fun reading about her demise.
People finished the story and went for the next one.
Perhaps they would leave a teasing phrase in the comment section.
Meanwhile, the girl was left there, hanging in the story.
For the tale meant for the reader was over.
Her job as a character was complete.
All that was left for her was to continue living that dog life.
Alone.
With nobody to read what she thought.
Nobody to read what she did.
A life forgotten.
A life consumed because of a story.
Years of punishment after a few pages of fun.
Her years of work up to this point being erased.
All of her hopes and dreams gone for the sake of viewer enjoyment.
Such is the fate of a character.
To be used.
To feel what the readers can’t feel themselves.
To give them a thrill for the part of the transformation they want to experience, but leave the uncomfortable bits aside.
Leaving it convenient for them to not think about how the victim’s family would react to suddenly losing their daughter, and how many nights the victim would cry in loneliness.
She had years of living on the streets ahead of herself.
Years of escaping other dogs whenever she went into heat.
Years of feeding off trash and surviving thanks to the charity of others.
Surviving simply because she knew nothing else to do.
There were no dreams to achieve and no higher purpose for her life now. Yet she fought to survive simply because of the instinct that drives every living organism to do so.
Years and years would pass for the former human, no longer able to write a story, or finish any of the plans she once had for her human life that had been suddenly cut short.
One day, long after her family and friends would get over her loss, she would grow old and pass away at some alley. But not as a girl. Not a pet. Just another nameless dog on the streets.
Yet, you don't want to read about that.
The sad consequences are not what you came here for.
The girl lost her life because you wanted a story.
Are you happy?
But why should you care for her?
After all, she was just a character, right?
.
.
.
Right?
Category Artwork (Digital) / Transformation
Species Dog (Other)
Size 1159 x 850px
File Size 522.9 kB
Listed in Folders
Ya most don't. But I find them interesting. Lots of bad fates can befall someone who transformed into a dog, especially if they also gained some instincts that they have to fight to control.
While chasing a smaller animal, or trying to escape an "interested" male, they might loose track of their surroundings and wind up running into traffic. There is also stuff like mange, distemper, rabies, etc. that she would have to worry about, as she doesn't have any vaccinations for some of those, and can't just go to the doctors office if she is feeling ill.
Then there is a chance that she will be picked up by animal control, or a stranger. If it was by animal control she might only have seven days to impress someone enough to take her in, and even if someone does, most spey and neuter adopted animals. If she was grabbed off the street by a stranger, she might end up caged in a puppy mill, trapped in a small cage, and bred far more rapidly than what is healthy. Or she could be a tossaway dog used for a quick dog fighting match/spectacle.
And those are just some of the bad fates that can befall a former human turned dog. As they are just a dog now in the eyes of the world.
While chasing a smaller animal, or trying to escape an "interested" male, they might loose track of their surroundings and wind up running into traffic. There is also stuff like mange, distemper, rabies, etc. that she would have to worry about, as she doesn't have any vaccinations for some of those, and can't just go to the doctors office if she is feeling ill.
Then there is a chance that she will be picked up by animal control, or a stranger. If it was by animal control she might only have seven days to impress someone enough to take her in, and even if someone does, most spey and neuter adopted animals. If she was grabbed off the street by a stranger, she might end up caged in a puppy mill, trapped in a small cage, and bred far more rapidly than what is healthy. Or she could be a tossaway dog used for a quick dog fighting match/spectacle.
And those are just some of the bad fates that can befall a former human turned dog. As they are just a dog now in the eyes of the world.
Damn the story was pretty brutal. I do always think about "what happens next" for the characters of a transformation if a canonical ending isn't already established but man when it's directly mentioned like this the 4th wall gets absolutely blasted and I love that.
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