By: Socks Catt
© 2006 Socks Furrotica, All Rights Reserved
"I can't believe you're getting rid of all this!" Steve said. He
turned the CD cases over in his hand. "You love Creed!"
"I've changed." Winchester said. "And I don't need this stuff
Steve nodded slowly. "Ok, you know the routine Carl. I can
only give you store credit for each one and..."
"Can you get me cash?" Winchester said. "Look I know what
I'm asking. But I'm leaving town and I don't have a lot of
resources to spare. I need all the cash I can get and I need it
fast. Getting my plane ticket back from Florida killed me and the
airlines were less than helpful. I don't want to take this to a
pawn shop, they'll rape me hardcore."
Steve shook his head a little, thinking. "Ok, tell you
what. I'll buy your store credits and figure out how I'll make
that back, ok?" Winchester nodded as Steve idly fingered through
the CD's. "So why the rush to leave? You know you can crash
here for a while if you need it."
"No." Winchester said. "My dad's going ballistic. I got my
car and ID's and stuff after he left the house. He's probably
drinking himself stupid, if he finds me I know he'll start something
we'll both regret." Winchester rolled onto his back and closed
his eyes. "I'm just happy I never told him where you live.
He won't come here."
Steve put the CD's down and lay down next to the dog. He ran his
hand up and down the dog's furred chest. "Can I help you unwind a
little? You've had a long day."
Winchester opened his eyes, and craned his neck up. "What are you
"Helping?" Steve said quizzically. "You just look like you need
"You're straight." Winchester said. "What are you doing?"
"Just helping a friend." Steve said. "Let me help you slip out of
those pants and into my mouth."
Winchester blinked a few times, and quickly rolled over away from Steve
to get on his knees. "This isn't like you." He said. His
paws fell on his hips, and he felt something in his back pocket.
He looked, and saw a light blue bandana sticking out of the camouflage
pants awkwardly. He took it out of his pocket, trying to remember
ever putting it in.
Steve blinked hard a few times, and looked at Winchester with a dazed
look on his face. "What just happened?"
"I don't know." Winchester said. "You were acting all
weird." Winchester put the bandana back in his pocket without
thinking. "Like you wanted to do stuff to me."
Steve's eyes got a little glazed over, and he looked at Winchester with
a grin. "And that's so bad? Come on dogboy, we'll have a
good howl, you'll..."
Winchester ripped the bandana out of his pocket and threw it on the
couch. Steve shook his head and looked bewildered. The dog
stared at his friend in disbelief. "Do you know what you just
"Sort of." Steve said, backing away a little. "I had an idea of
doing something with you, but... Oh God did I just say I'd suck
"Oh fuck." Winchester said, looking at the bandana. "Sweet
fucking fuckberries." He picked up the bandana, and watched as
its color changed from light blue to the dark blue he had in his pocket
at the convention. "Oh shit. This thing is dangerous."
"What?" Steve asked, sitting upright and seeming a little dazed.
Winchester shook his head. "No, nothing." He quickly
stuffed the bandana in his suitcase, feeling an emptiness for doing it
but knowing he had to. "That thing affected you." He shook
his head a few times. "Now I understand why I was getting hit on
so much after the change. Fuck."
"You know I'm not that way." Steve said quickly.
"I know." Winchester said. "I know. I didn't know it did
that. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He sat back down on
the floor, looking at the pattern in the carpet. "Look, I'll
leave it in that suitcase as long as I'm here, ok?"
"You better." Steve said, trying to force a joke. "I wake up and
find you humping my leg or something and I'm gonna hurt you."
"That's a deal." Winchester said apologetically.
The next day Winchester ran around town trying to dodge where he
figured his Father might be but trying to beat him around town.
He stopped at the bank, the DMV, post office, and in fact everywhere he
could to sever his father from himself. He hit dead end after
dead end, only managing to secure his finances and stop his personal
mail. He tried to use his cell phone several times, but that was
turned off before noon. Even with his misses, he felt some sense
of accomplishment as he had at least enough security to start his next
Near the end of the day, he wanted to make one more stop. He
pulled up in front of the shop he had always loved. He walked
through the door, and almost stopped when the aromas hit him. He
expected it, but not to the level of complexity his new nose had.
Individual flavors were discernable, he could tell the quality of each
aroma, and where it came from. Winchester smiled, and felt a
moment of absolute happiness. He heard a gasp behind the
counter. He looked over to see the man behind the counter, and
Winchester smiled warmly to the man he knew so well.
"I need to see some ID." The shop keeper said nervously.
"I'll show you but you won't believe it." Winchester produced his
driver's license. The shopkeeper looked it over, and kept looking
up at Winchester, and back down at the plastic card.
"Carl? That's you?" the shop keeper asked, putting the pieces
together. "You were at that convention! You were
in...?" Winchester nodded happily. "And you
became...?" The dog still nodded. The shop keeper
laughed. "I knew that costume was something else but you were
wearing it when it happened? That's simply incredible!"
"I know. I'm getting used to the looks." Winchester said.
"If I stay here a while you'll get a crowd at the window."
"I can't believe that happened to you! Look at you!" the
shopkeeper marveled at the dog-man in his store, coming out from behind
the counter to touch Winchester's fur. "So why did you come back
"To say goodbye." Winchester said sadly. "I'm leaving town as
soon as I can, I don't intend on coming back."
"Where are you going?"
"No idea." Winchester said. "But I need to buy some supplies
before I go."
"Name it." The shop keeper patted Winchester on the shoulder a
few times, still staring at how he looked.
Winchester looked at the wall, and saw something he had wanted to buy
for a long time, and now was as good a time as any. "That
pipe." He pointed to a half-bent with a deep bowl. "The
entire rack of corncobs there, and probably all of apple blend you've
got. And..." he sniffed the air a few times, and pointed to a jar
of extremely dark Cavendish. "THAT! I don't care what it
is, I know I'll like it. It'll work for the new pipe.
Probably another good pipe too, like that one there. Some
sweetener too, a couple of those pipe stands and some matches.
That should set me up a while."
The shopkeeper grabbed the things at first laughing at the craziness of
the dog, then with a sad smile knowing what it meant. As he rung
up the sale, he looked at the fox-red lab wagging his tail. His
demeanor softened, an he let his face melt into a gentle smile.
Winchester stopped moving, and looked at the man. "This is way
more than thirty dollars of stuff."
"But I'm only charging you thirty dollars." The shopkeeper said.
"You've been a good customer, and a loyal one at that. I've seen
you come in and out of this shop for years before you were 18 and you
even waited until you could legally purchase before you did. And
since then you're in the store every other week when you're in town to
buy more or just talk with me. And I reward my loyal
customers. You know that."
"I can't let you work at a loss." Winchester said. "At least let
me give you two-hundred."
"Fifty." The shopkeeper laughed. "I can't believe I'm
haggling to charge a customer more than I asked for!"
"Believe it." Winchester said. "At cost this is more than
fifty. Come on, at least charge me your cost. If you're
going to be nice at least be fair to yourself."
The man shook his head. "All right then." He grabbed a
calculator and started punching numbers. "I'll have you know I
wouldn't do this for any other customer."
"How many other customers are covered in fur?"
"You'd be surprised at some of the businessmen I get." He said with a
grin. "Not to mention that I'll never sell apple to anyone else
but you. I only stocked it because you asked for it."
"I do appreciate it." Winchester, pulled cash out of his wallet and
counted it quickly. "I do have one more question. Wherever
I go, will you do mail order?"
"For you, sure."
Winchester smiled, and was about to put his wallet away when he noticed
he had his bandana in his back right pocket. He cringed as he
looked at it. Tan. He closed his eyes and cursed to himself.
Steve was playing a video game when Winchester knocked on the
Winchester walked in, holding the bandana in his paw. "I have to
learn how to control this thing."
"Why?" Steve asked. "I thought you liked the buttsex?"
Winchester barely registered the comment in his mind. "I don't
remember putting this in my pocket." Winchester said. "But it was
there when I bought stuff. I probably could have slept with a
bunch of straight guys if I wanted to."
"Damn." Steve said. "Got another one that works on ladies?
I could use it."
"It's dangerous." Winchester said. "I wouldn't..." He
looked at Steve and perked an ear. "Can I ask for your
help? I promise I won't do anything bad." He licked his
muzzle a few times nervously.
That night Winchester fought with and learned how to control the power
of the bandana in his pocket. Steve was nervous at first, but
trusted his friend. By the end of the night, Steve had his
dignity intact and Winchester had a basic grasp on how to control the
reach from the bandana. He could keep it in his pocket without
Steve wanting to reach over and fondle him.
Winchester got out of his clothing in the bathroom, and put on a pair
of boxer shorts. He lay on the couch as Steve played his
game. "Hey, Carl?"
"It's Winchester." The dog said wearily. "I'm not Carl
anymore." He tapped the tags on his orange collar for emphasis.
"Ok, Winchester." Steve said with a sarcastic tone. "What are you
gonna do now?"
"Sleep." The dog said.
"I mean long term." Steve said. He hit pause and turned
around. "I've been thinking and I'm out of ideas on what else I
can do for you. I mean I can let you crash on the couch as long
as you need to but I can't like give you anything..."
"No, I know." Winchester said. "And I'm really stretching our
friendship right now, I know." He rolled over to face Steve. "I
figured that tomorrow I'd do some final things. I gotta go buy
some new clothing, give what I don't need to the Salvation Army or just
people I know will like it, fill my car with gas, and go north. I
don't know, it just feels like where I need to be. Wisconsin or
Minnesota, possibly the U.P. or something."
"So you're going to fall off the planet?" Steve asked.
"Hardly. Just get the hell out of the city." The dog nodded to
himself. "I feel nervous here. Too much motion, too many
people. I'm getting stared at when I go into a store or
something. I can't live like that, ya know?"
Winchester propped his head on his paw, and looked at the space the TV
was in. He waived his other paw to emphasize himself. "I
can't explain this without sounding like I'm insane or making shit
up. But when I was laying on the ground, right after my change, I
looked at the sky. Suddenly, BAM. I was hit with
something. When I came out of it I just knew stuff. Ya
know? And I know I have to get out of the city to use what I
Slowly he rolled off his paw, tapped his tag with a claw and looked
directly at Steve. "I have so much knowledge of hunting its just
stupid. Give me a gun and some ammo and I'll bring back anything
from a deer to a bear to a pheasant. Hell I think I could skin
the damn thing too and prepare the meat if I had to. Where did it
come from? I have no clue. But I can't hunt here. I
need to go rural."
Steve looked at his friend and shook his head. "So, what, you
want to go be a hermit somewhere?"
"No. I need to find something. Like people. People
are a part of it, but I don't know what I need to find."
Winchester shook his head. "It's so fucked up that I don't have
all the pieces yet, but I know that I have to go north to find
them." Winchester looked at his friend and smiled. "When I
find it, I'll let you know."
"Ya better." Steve said, turning back to the TV. "I'd always
wanted to vacation in Minnesota in a cabin somewhere. Make ya put
up with me a while and I'll crash at your place." Winchester fell
asleep to the sounds of "Grand Theft Auto".
Winchester put the clothing down on the counter and fumbled for his
wallet as several onlookers stared. The woman behind the register
looked at the dog in amazement. "Go ahead, say it." Winchester
said with some amusement, still pawing in his jacket.
"I'm sorry?" the woman asked.
"No, that's not what you want to say." The dog said. "Something
about Halloween being a while ago, or no dogs allowed, or barking at me
or something like that."
The woman looked at the dog, who was not looking at her as he fumbled
with his paws. "How about you would look good in denim?"
Winchester stopped cold and looked at the woman. "The faded
"I couldn't help but look as you were shopping, and the faded blue
overalls looked good with that dark blue shirt." She said, pointing at
the pile. "I wouldn't go with the dark denims, they don't work at
all on you. And I wouldn't wear the blaze orange collar with
Winchester looked at the pile of clothing, and then back to her.
"Umm... Okay.... It's just that I need new everything,
and... Wow you really threw me off there."
"My brother was at the convention too." She smiled. "He was
dressed up as an 80's drag queen pop star."
"Oh." Winchester said, ears drooping a little. "Is that good or bad?"
"Hilarious." She said with a smile. "He's trying to find a doctor
to remove his permanent falsies and everything he wears becomes this
gaudy clash of colors. It looks like someone threw the 80's into
a fan and he was standing in front of it." She snickered to
herself. "Serves him right too for all the stuff he did to me in
Winchester grinned himself. "So I guess that a dog shopping for
new clothing is pretty tame in comparison, huh?"
"I didn't think I'd see another person from Kublai Con," the woman
explained, "but I'm guessing you were there too." She folded the
overalls efficiently on the counter. "And I figured you were just
grabbing random things that might fit you. But it looks like
you're a typical guy, don't know what goes with what. If you've
got some time, I'll be glad to help you out."
Winchester sighed in relief, and allowed himself to smile for the first
time in a while. "I would appreciate that, Ma'am."
They looked at the racks of clothing together. "Why the work
clothing? You know you'd probably look very nice in some khakis
or a nice light polo shirt. It would go with your natural
"They don't feel right." Winchester said. "Don't fit right, don't
sit right, it's just not right." He picked up a pair of carpenter
jeans. "This feels better. I didn't try anything on, I just
guessed on what my size is but my tail wouldn't..."
"So try them on?" She encouraged. "It may be hard to fit your
tail around them but you can see if they'll work for you. You can
always cut a hole in them for your tail after you buy them."
Winchester took them into the changing room, and tried on the carpenter
jeans. When he brought the jeans around his hips, the fabric
warped in his paws. He saw a hole open up in the backside, and a
flap of denim form over an opening with full finished seams and
stitching. "I'll be damned." He said. He pulled the
beltline over his hips, and his tail came out the back of the pants
like they were tailor made just for him. Winchester shook his
head, looking in the mirror. "Now that just figures."
When he explained it to the woman helping him, she got a good
laugh. "Look at the bright side." She said "It didn't turn into a
pair of skin-tight stonewashed jeans."
"A fact I'm thankful for." Winchester said. "Ok, I'm getting the
hint. Looks like I'm buying Dickies and Craftsman and Carhartt."
He shook his head. "At least it'll last forever."
By the time he was done shopping, he had enough clothing to live in:
coveralls, overalls, denim jeans and work shorts, quilted and insulated
clothing, t-shirts, underpants and the rest of the essentials.
Every pair of pants transformed as he tried them on to fit his hips and
tail. The insulated clothing even grew fully enclosed sleeves on
the backside for his tail to keep it warm. Each new set of
clothing made him feel more comfortable.
The whole while he talked with the woman about the convention, her
brother, and what life was like for him. Winchester told her
about his life, how it had changed too. Somehow, it helped them
both feel better. They spent a few hours talking while looking
for clothing for him. She even helped him remove all the tags
after the purchase so he could get dressed in his new clothing before
leaving the store. They packed the rest in his old suitcase,
stuffing it to almost breaking full
Before leaving, he looked at the last bit of clothing left from his old
life. A pair of Tommy Boy jeans and a t-shirt from his
college. He put them in a plastic shopping bag, and brought them
out to the sales lady. "If I gave these to you, would you have a
use for them? If not I'm throwing them out."
She smiled with a wicked grin. "I'll make sure my brother tries
them on." Winchester grinned, and left the store satisfied.
His next stop was a hunting supply outlet where he bought himself a few
new collars, sunglasses, supplies for all season camping, as well as
some proper hunting apparel for a few seasons. He amused himself
by correcting the salesman about what camouflage would work best for
his needs. By the end of the afternoon, he was outfitted with all
the gear he would need, except a proper firearm or bow. But that
could wait until he passed whatever course he needed to in whatever
state he was in.
Winchester stood outside the outdoor supply store, packing his new
camo-sided gear bag with the last supplies he purchased. He put
his blaze orange collar in the side pocket, and patted it with a
smile. His life now fit snugly into the trunk of his car.
He stood, looking at his gear bag and his smaller suitcase. He
didn't bother with a checklist, he knew what he had.
Gently, he closed the trunk. He ran his finger along the fresh
leather band of his brand new collar. When his fingers jingled the
tags, he felt a sense of pleasure. He adjusted the strap on his
denim overalls casually, wagging his tail through the open flap.
He tossed his quilted jacket into the passenger seat of his car, got in
and quietly packed his pipe while ignoring the gawking people walking
He took in the first muzzle full of smoke, and exhaled it slowly
letting the apple and tobacco scent fill the car. He put on his
sunglasses, and smiled with the pipe in his muzzle. "North
ho." The car started up and he began to drive.
Back to Chapter 3
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DISCLAIMER : All stories included in this archive are Copyright
- 2006 Socks Furrotica Press. Distribution is permitted in electronic
as long as 1) the entire text (including this disclaimer) remains
and 2) My e-mail address remains on the work (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Permission is also given to print this text out for personal use. If
wish to include this story in a web site or for publication, e-mail
These stories are (unfortunately) all works of
They depict sex. Lots of quite graphic sex between several genders and
arguably a few species. Af any of this offends you, or anything vaguely
pornographic bothers you, don't read this, and don't send me your nasty
e-mail (I may enjoy it, you know...) If this is either
illegal, offends you, or you have
no interest in this, don't read it. You have a brain, don't fear it. Go