Dog Days

In this story, someone turns into a cartoon rubber doberman, then turns someone else into a cartoon rubber poodle via sex. So, y'know, be warned. Explicit.

It started with a hiss.

He'd been hunched over the desk for---geez, was that the time?---hours, and his back had begun protesting. He set down the pen and rose from his seat, straightened up and arched his spine. There went his joints: pop, pop, pop! A crack so sharp he heard it echo down the hall, followed by a low, steady hissing noise.

Did someone turn on a faucet? He cocked his head, glancing up at the ceiling, then over his shoulder. The sound wasn't coming from the walls. And it wasn't quite as light as running water; it sounded tighter and thicker. He turned in place and waited a moment, but the sound didn't change. The heavy hiss seemed like it was coming from...beneath him.

He looked down. His eyes fell on his crotch, bulging against the front of his jeans. Its shape was smooth and swollen, and slowly straining against the denim while he watched. He staggered backward; his bulging crotch bobbled from side to side against his thighs. The wall caught him and he stood there, staring down at his expanding crotch.

Damn it, not again!