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talesofmetamorphosis · 8 months

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Victoria's Dog (Semi-Realistic Dog TF)

Involuntary Surgical and Behavioral Dog TF, Slow, Somewhat Grotesque.

Victoria sat by the window, her gaze fixed on her sleepy suburban street. Her daughter Amelia was packing her belongings in her room, preparing to embark on a new adventure. The excitement in Amelia's voice as she discussed her plans with friends and family was palpable, but Victoria couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling that was building within her.

She watched as the occasional car passed, or someone walked by with their child or pet, each lost in their own world, unaffected by the tumultuous emotions churning inside Victoria. She had always known that this day would come, that her daughter would spread her wings and leave the nest. Yet, no amount of preparation could soften the blow she felt was impending.

With a sigh, Victoria rose from her seat and walked over to her desk. She picked up her phone and hesitated for a moment. She knew what she was about to do wasn't entirely conventional, but her desperation for a solution overshadowed any reservations. Her fingers tapped out the familiar number, and she held the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" a voice answered on the other end, and Victoria's heart raced.

"Does tonight work for you?" she inquired, her tone betraying a mixture of anxiety and determination.

The voice on the other end responded affirmatively, once again outlining what would be done before the night was up. As she listened, a sense of relief washed over her. It was as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and her plan solidified into inevitability.

"Thank you," Victoria whispered into the phone, her voice trembling ever so slightly.

With that, she ended the call and placed the phone back on the desk. The room seemed quieter now, the outside world carrying on as usual. But Victoria knew that she had set something in motion, something that would ensure her precious daughter would never leave her.

Evening was there before they knew it, a tranquil ambiance cast over them as they settled down for dinner. The aroma of the meal filled the air, creating a façade of normalcy despite the undercurrents of Victoria's secret agenda. As they exchanged anecdotes about the day, Victoria navigated the conversation toward the topic that had been consuming her thoughts and was soon to become a non-issue.

"Baby," she began casually, "I just want to say how proud I am of you, it’s such a big step to move out."

"Yeah, Mom. I can't wait to have my own space, you know? Explore new things, meet new people."

Victoria nodded, masking her internal turmoil behind a supportive smile. She had already taken the first step towards solving this problem. As the conversation flowed, she watched Amelia's every movement, waiting for the first sign of her plan coming into effect.

As they chatted, the effects of the medication she had slipped into her daughter’s drink gradually took hold. Amelia's eyelids grew heavy, and her speech began to slow. Victoria maintained her facade, watching her daughter's struggle with a calculated concern.

"You seem tired," she remarked, her tone a blend of empathy and manipulation. "Why don’t you go lay down and I’ll clean up here?"

Amelia blinked sleepily, her guard weakening under the influence of the drug. "Yeah, Mom. I think I overdid it with packing today."

“Sleep tight baby girl” Victoria said with a small grin to Amelia’s back as she rose from the table and retreated back to her room. Getting up herself, she began tidying up after dinner, doing dishes and wiping down the table and counter. When she was done, she headed down the hall, glad her daughter hadn’t managed to close her door before she inevitably passed out,

In her room Amelia was passed out on top of her comforter, having likely walked from the table to her bed and fallen asleep immediately. Victoria eyed the packed boxes with distaste, they wouldn’t be necessary anymore but the facade would need to remain for now. Giving her daughter a kiss on the forehead, she retreated from the room and went to grab her phone, redialing the familiar number and putting the phone to her ear.

“Are you here?” She asked when the number picked up. With an affirmative answer she hung up the phone once again, heading over to the door and opening it just as a car that had been parked across the street turned it’s headlights on and pulled into their driveway.

It had been a twist of fate that one of Victoria’s best friends happened to be a doctor, well, a veterinarian anyway, and when Victoria had been venting to her one day, she just happened to have just the answer to her problem. Because as an accomplished veterinarian, Dr. Hartfeld, or Ellie to Victoria, was as unscrupulous as she was medically proficient.

Ushering her into the house, Ellie followed Victoria into Amelia’s bedroom, where they both looked down at the sleeping girl.

“Good job” She told the girl’s mother, walking up to Amelia and grabbing her face, the medication keeping her sleeping soundly even as the doctor turned her face side to side, giving her cheeks a little squeeze.

“And you’re sure this is gonna work?” Victoria asked nervously, as she had many times since they had first planned for it.

“Vic, this isn’t my first rodeo” Was all she replied, and Victoria knew she didn’t want the details on what else her friend had been doing. At the moment though her friend was turning her daughter over onto her side, sliding up the back of her shirt to expose her bare back. Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew a syringe, and it was with a practiced ease that she uncapped it and with some scientific prodding to determine the correct area, pushed the needle into her daughter’s back, practically into her spine and depressing the plunger part of the way, leaving two thirds of what she had injected remaining in the syringe before withdrawing it. Victoria watched anxiously as her friend progressed to pulling her daughter’s pants to her ankles with some difficulty, if it had been anyone else she would have objected all day, but with Ellie, she knew she was doing exactly what she had requested as she did much the same near the back of each of Amelia’s knees.

“Okay, there we go.” Ellie said as she began pulling Amelia’s pants back up and rolling her back into a more natural position. “Don’t look so nervous babes, you’re never gonna lose your good girl.” She reassured Victoria, capping the syringe and holding it in her hand for later disposal before giving Victoria a kiss on the cheek. “I have an appointment for you tomorrow around noon.” She finished before leaving Victoria alone with her drugged daughter. She stood there staring for quite a while, wondering if she had made the right decision but a glance to her packed boxes assured her she had. When she finally left the room she found herself unable to get past her nervous energy and fall asleep, but she was resolute in not feeling an ounce of regret.

The next morning found Victoria restless, her mind a battleground of doubt and determination. As dawn broke, she stood in her dimly lit kitchen, clutching her coffee mug as if seeking solace from its warmth. The events of the previous night weighed heavily on her, but there was no turning back now.

Amelia's voice called out in panic from her bedroom, jolting Victoria from her reverie. With a deep breath, she composed herself and hurried to her daughter's aid. Upon entering the room, the sight that met her eyes sent a slight pang of guilt rippling through her.

Amelia lay on the bed, her face contorted in a mixture of confusion and discomfort. Her legs were twisted at odd angles, and her attempts to straighten them seemed futile. Victoria's heart clenched as she approached, her own exhaustion overshadowed by her daughter's predicament, even though she had caused it.

"Mom," Amelia's voice trembled, "something's wrong. I can't… I can't move my legs properly, and my back feels all twisted."

Victoria fought to maintain her composure, her mind racing for an explanation that wouldn't betray the truth. She knelt beside Amelia's bed, her eyes filled with a half-feigned concern.

"Amelia, it's going to be okay," she said, her voice oozing reassurance. "Just take a deep breath. Can you try to sit up for me?"

Amelia attempted to comply, but her efforts were met with frustration. Her body resisted, her muscles seemingly refusing to obey her commands.

"I… I can't, Mom," Amelia's voice quivered, her panic palpable.

Victoria's heart ached, masking her conflict behind a facade of sympathy. She looked over her daughter’s body as if she didn’t know the answer to her predicament. "Can you try getting on all fours? It might help relieve the tension."

Amelia hesitated, her eyes searching Victoria's face for answers. With a tentative nod, she slowly maneuvered herself into a position on her hands and knees on her bed. To Victoria's relief, Amelia seemed relatively comfortable in this posture.

"There you go," Victoria encouraged, her words dripping with a calculated mix of empathy and authority. “I'll call the doctor and get you an appointment immediately, do you think you can get down off the bed?"

“Uhm… yeah I think so.” Amelia answered, looking down off the bed, manuevering herself backwards so she could slide off the bed back to her position on all fours.

“Okay, you wanna come to the living room? You should probably eat before we go, I have some eggs and toast made, maybe I can set your plate on the coffee table?” She offered.

“Uh, yeah, okay, I guess.” she replied dejectedly, following after her mother on her hands and knees.

Victoria was so conflicted, her daughter was hurting, certainly, but how could she ever leave her when she’d never be able to stand on two legs again? Was it extreme? Absolutely, but now Amelia would be dependent on her for everything, which filled her with giddy excitement.

Amelia's dejected form followed Victoria into the living room, her body now confined to the unfamiliar posture. Thankfully her expression didn't betray pain; instead, it exuded a blend of resignation and melancholy. As she settled next to the couch, Amelia lowered her head to rest against the edge of the couch, her gaze cast downward.

It didn’t take long for Victoria to bring her daughter the plate of food she had already prepared, setting it in front of her on the couch cushion.

Amelia managed a small, grateful smile as she attempted to grasp the fork. Her arms were functioning, but not ideally, making the task a challenge, but she managed to navigate the fork to her mouth. Each bite seemed like a test of will. Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Victoria pretended to make a phone call to schedule a the appointment. She recited pleasantries and agreed upon a date and time, all while no one was even on the line. . Returning to the living room, Victoria held an expression of feigned relief. "I've managed to schedule an appointment with the doctor, it’s in an hour. We’re gonna get you the help you need love."

Amelia's eyes brightened just barely at the news, a glimmer of hope amid her otherwise somber state. Victoria watched her daughter, a mixture of genuine concern and glee as she took a seat next to the plate and stroked her daughter’s head.

When she was finished eating, the room held an air of strained normalcy as she nestled her head onto her mother's leg while they watched tv as they awaited the impending doctor's appointment.

As the minutes ticked by, the time finally arrived for their journey to the doctor. With a gentle touch, Victoria guided Amelia out to the garage. Amelia's struggles were evident as she tried to maneuver herself into the back seat of the car. With some help she managed to get onto the backseat and position herself on her side, unable to buckle up due to her constraints.

The drive to the doctor's office was a mix of subdued conversation and tangible tension. Upon arrival, Amelia cast a curious glance at the unfamiliar building. "Mom, this isn't the usual doctor's office," she remarked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Victoria, quick on her feet, responded with a casual smile. "Yeah, our old place is out-of-network now, but this place has fantastic reviews."

Amelia's curiosity seemingly satisfied, they entered the nondescript building, looking around to see if anyone saw the woman crawling on her hands and knees. Inside, there was little sign that it was a doctor's office of any renown – tiny waiting room that was mostly reception desk. Behind the desk was Ellie, who Victoria feigned not knowing, thankful Amelia had never met her friend. Ellie put on a masterful show of concern before leading the mother-daughter duo into the backroom that seemed more reminiscent of a veterinarian's examination room than a doctor’s office, primarily because it was one. Amelia's condition made questioning her surroundings a secondary concern.

Amelia's eyes wandered around the room, taking in the details as Ellie set up a small set of stairs next to the examination table which was in the center of the room, not against the wall like she was used to. With no proding, Amelia knew what she was expected to do, moving to the table and climbing the stairs with some difficulty ending up on all fours on the table, feeling every bit like an animal.

Ellie's voice was professional yet empathetic tone as she began to ask Amelia a series of questions about what had led to her current state. Her inquiries were punctuated with moments of concern, her words calculated to elicit both information and trust, even though she was well aware what the issue was.

Amelia's responses were tinged with a sense of vulnerability, her voice uncertain.

"Amelia, in order to properly assess your situation, I'll need you to remove your clothes," Ellie's request was delivered with a matter-of-fact air, her expression all professionalism.

Amelia's gaze flicked between Ellie and Victoria, uncertainty evident in her eyes. "Amelia, I can step outside if you'd prefer some privacy." her mother offered.

Amelia hesitated, her features creased in thought. "Actually, Mom, could you stay?" Her voice held a hint of vulnerability, a desire for her mother's presence in this unfamiliar territory.

Victoria nodded solumnly, secretly overjoyed as her daughter expressed her emotional reliance on top of the physical. Together, they gently assisted Amelia in removing her clothes, a joint effort that seemed to reinforce the intricate balance between maternal affection and strategic manipulation.

Once Amelia was unclothed, Ellie's focus shifted to a more thorough examination. She guided Amelia to extend her legs and straighten her body, her instructions met with visible effort but next to no success. Ellie's trained eyes assessed Amelia's joints and movements, her touch both clinical and calculated.

As the examination progressed, Ellie's professional mask slipped slightly, revealing a flicker of intrigue beneath her exterior of concern, though Victoria was the only one who noticed. Her hands moved with practiced precision, palpating joints and muscles as if deciphering a puzzle.

"Alright, Amelia," Ellie's voice held a mix of assurance and seriousness. "I've taken some initial measurements and observed your range of motion. I'm going to take a small blood sample. We'll run some tests to get a clearer picture of what might be causing this."

After Ellie extracted the blood sample, she assured them they would have the results soon, though that was for Amelia’s benefit considering the results would never be coming. "In the meantime, I’m gonna prescribe you an injection that should hopefully relieve some of the tension in your joints, but it isn’t a miracle drug, my primary recommendation is try to rest as much as you can."

After helping her down from the table, they left the office, Victoria carried the white paper prescription bag, its contents heavy in her hand, testament to her extreme desired outcome. Amelia's mood had dampened even more noticeably, her eyes clouded with a deep sense of despondency. The weight of her situation bore down on her, a truth that had settled in during the course of the examination. She was trapped like this, her autonomy completely out the window when she had previously been about to have practically unlimited autonomy..

As they returned home, the atmosphere seemed to mirror Amelia's subdued demeanor, despite her mother’s reassurances. Without any response, Amelia retreated to her room, the silence punctuated only by the echo of her movements.

Victoria on the other hand was practically dancing as she went through her daily routine, she’d never lose her darling girl now, she’d always be dependent on her. Part of her was conflicted, but only a small part, which was shrinking with every demonstration.

Eventually, Amelia's call disrupted the quiet of the house. Victoria responded instantly, making her way to the bathroom where Amelia had called for her.

Amelia's voice trembled as she sat on her knees in front of the toilet. "Mom, I can't… I can't use the toilet like this. My legs and back, I just can't."

Victoria's expression registered feigned surprise, a calculated blend of concern and helplessness. "Oh, I’m so sorry sweetheart. Are you sure you can’t?"

Amelia's eyes pleaded for a solution, her vulnerability laid bare. "I don't know what to do, Mom. I can't even walk properly."

A pause hung in the air, pregnant with an idea that was in both of their heads with vastly different emotions. Then, Victoria's voice cut through the silence, a suggestion offered with feigned reluctant pragmatism. "Well, for now, maybe… maybe you could use the backyard. Just until we figure out something better."

Amelia's hesitation was palpable, her internal struggle evident in the furrow of her brow. But after a moment, she nodded, her acquiescence a testament to the depths of her current dependence.

Following her mother to the backyard, Victoria opened the door for her so she could crawl out into the grass, thankful their yard had high fences. She looked around the yard despondently before looking up at her mom.

“Uh, can you take my bottoms off mom?” She asked, looking down embarrassed.

“Of course sweetie” She answered, leaning down and pulling her adult daughter’s pajama pants and panties down, asking her to raise each leg as she pulled them off each foot. Looking away from her mother, she crawled around the corner of the house, not wanting to dwell on being naked in front of her mother, before spreading her knees as far as she could, a spurt of pee releasing, which she quickly stopped as she realized it would pool around her knees. Swallowing her pride, she braced herself on her arms and free knee as she raised one of them, peeing on the side of the house like a dog.

Victoria couldn’t help but peak around the side of the house, grinning as her daughter relieved herself before quickly stepping back as to provide the illusion of privacy as she crawled back to her.

“Maybe we should just keep your pants off for now sweetie, they’ve gotta be making it more difficult to get around and if you have to go to the bathroom again it’ll be easier this way.” Victoria offered, as if it wasn’t something she was eager for.

“But m-” Amelia cut herself off before shrugging, resigned to her predicament as she crawled back up to the backdoor. She could probably get it open on her own but it would be more trouble than it was worth.

As the day continued, Amelia spent most of her time in her room, dwelling on this new situation. Victoria continued on her household tasks before lounging on the couch watching tv, the giddiness of knowing her daughter would never leave her leaving a small grin on her face despite the reality.

Lunch and Dinner had passed much like breakfast, Victoria would come find her daughter laying on the floor of her bedroom, lead her out to the couch and serve her plate on the couch cushion, where it would be relatively accessible with considerable difficulty.

Shortly after dinner, once Victoria had led Amelia back inside after allowing her to relieve herself again, Victoria suggested perhaps she should give her a bath after crawling around all day. Amelia was initially hesitant, but she couldn’t deny she felt grimey. She hadn’t been naked around her mother, before today, for many years, but she had little choice but to allow her mother to help her into the tub, wash her entire body, and help her out once again before drying her off.

It didn’t take much for Amelia to take Victoria’s suggestion of staying entirely unclothed with a mixture of reluctance and practicality. The unconventional situation seemed to make sense, at least for the moment.

With Amelia entirely nude and vulnerable, Victoria helped arrange some blankets and pillows in Amelia’s room, creating a makeshift bed on the floor, where at her mother’s request she stayed sitting while she retrieved her new medication. Once the medication was injected into her thigh with a pinch, Amelia immediately crumpled to the floor, her mood as melancholy as it had been all night, covering herself with a blanket with a sad good night to her mother.

Victoria left her daughter there, while she should have felt conflicted, her daughter was deeply sad of course, but Victoria was certain she would find joy in the situation soon, having her mother take care of her. Victoria certainly did.

In the weeks that followed, the first day's strangeness becoming routine. Amelia's reliance on her mother became an unquestioned norm. The once-independent daughter now looked to Victoria for practically everything.

Amelia's curiosity about the doctor's results came up nearly daily, and her mother would always respond with some variation of "They're still working on it, sweetheart. We'll know soon enough."

Amelia's dependence was perhaps most apparent in her bathroom habits, or lack of bathroom in them. Multiple times a day her mother would bring her into the backyard and she would relieve herself, in all ways, a blush on her face when her mother would spray her butt down with the hose after fully relieving herself and picking up her poop in a plastic bag like she was just a dog.

Baths became a nightly ritual, a necessity if she didn’t wish her nude floor-bound body to develop a layer of grime and stink. The awkwardness fading with each day.

The shift from eating on the couch to eating on the floor was a natural progression. It was simply what worked best for Amelia’s situation, her mother hadn’t even been the one to suggest it, and not long after that she abandoned utensils as well, it was much easier if she just bent down and use her mouth to eat, her mom wiping her mouth off afterwards if necessary.

Each night her mother would inject her with her medication, some hope maybe the next day she would wake up and be able to walk again. But unbeknownst to her, the medication in the syringes was not going to suddenly repair her permanently damaged body, because the medication in the syringes was hormonal replacements, and not human ones.

As this routine continued, the passage of time blurred, her mood was less dismal but of course rarely happy. Days became weeks became months as Victoria was actively accommodating Amelia’s submission to her new routine. Then finally one morning, with a grin, her mother received yet another fake phone call, her tone optimistic, causing Amelia to look up from where her face was buried in her bowl of oatmeal on the floor, her mouth smeared with her breakfast.

“Baby! I have good news, the doctor has gotten your results back and she knows what the problem is.” Victoria said, her face covered in a big half-false grin, crouching down and placing her hands on the sides of her daughters head, the slightly patronizing act having become somewhat the norm.

Amelia’s mood is suddenly a complete 180 from how she had been for the past few months, she was grinning and her eyes were tearing up with happy tears. Her mother was also thrilled, but not because her daughter would be ‘fixed’ but because it was finally time to take this even further.

Their moods were practically infectious, each feeding off the other as Victoria wiped breakfast off her daughter’s face and took her outside for what one of them hoped was the last time, and the other knew certainly wasn’t.

When they finally made it to the vet's office, Amelia practically jumping in and out of the car, her excitement was palpable. Ellie, with her fake enthusiasm, greeted them, all smiles and encouragement. She was led back and helped up onto the table once more, her anticipation building.

Ellie's words were reassuring, "Amelia, we're going to give you an injection today. It should help alleviate your discomfort and get you back to feeling more like yourself."

Amelia's eagerness overshadowed any skepticism she probably should have felt. Not like she had much time to question it as she barely registered the prick of the needle before everything went dark.

As Amelia drifted into unconsciousness, Ellie and Victoria exchanged a knowing look.

"It won't be long now," Ellie mused, her tone a mix of excitement and professional detachment. "You've made quite the progress."

Victoria's smile held a touch of anticipation. "I should feel bad but I can’t help but be excited."

With a final nod, Victoria left her daughter in Ellie's capable hands and returned home, a sense of purpose and excitement guiding her steps. The days ahead held the promise of progress, of moving closer to her ideal outcome. She couldn’t leave her daughter as a grown woman on hands and knees after all. Finally, she began unpacking her daughter’s boxes, she’d never be leaving her. Realistically, Amelia wouldn’t need any of this stuff anymore, but the act was cathartic for her mother. When she was finally done, she left the room, closing it behind her. It was time for some online shopping.

After a month. Amelia’s return was a surreal scene, the first major culmination of Victoria’s unconventional choices, which was saying a lot considering how major the first step was. As the two men carefully placed the large blanket-covered dog cage inside the house, the air was heavy with a sense of both anticipation and trepidation.

With the men gone, Victoria's demeanor shifted from a pragmatic transaction to eager giddiness. She exhaled before removing the blanket that had concealed the cage's contents, revealing the transformation that Amelia had undergone.

The surgical modifications were unmistakable and grotesque. Amelia's torso was more cylindrical, as if her ribs had been compressed inwards, her limbs extending off it had been just as modified, they were shortened, her arms and legs both more closely resembling dog's legs than a humans. The absence of fingers and toes taking away the rest of her daughter’s autonomy.

The alteration to Amelia's backside was particularly striking. Her buttcheeks had been entirely removed, leaving her anus flush against her back, mirroring the anatomy of a dog and the dog-like tongue hanging from her mouth was just a cherry on top.

These changes didn’t come easily of course, her body was marred by mostly-healed surgical scars, though for the most part they were strategically placed to be less noticeable. Not that it mattered at the moment anyway, It wasn’t like she was fit for anyone to see anyway, as she was she resembled more monster than human, a shaved human head on a dog-shaped body, only a thin coat of light brown hair growing across her body as a result of the daily hormone injections.

Amelia slept within the confines of the cage, her body a canvas upon which Victoria's ambitions had been meticulously etched. Once she was done gawking at the changes, a grin plastered on her face, she went and retrieved the two dog bowls that she had prepared, in the same place where she had used to eat her meals off plates or bowls, but now instead of eggs or spaghetti, one bowl was full of water, and one was full of wet dog food. Opening the cage quietly, she placed the bowls in front of the door before closing it once again. She needed to acclimatize her daughter to her new life before allowing her to do something that could hurt either of them, though given she had no teeth or nails yet, it was hardly the biggest worry.

While dog food isn’t good for humans, Amelia was hardly much of a human anymore. Under Ellie’s exacting scalpel, Amelia’s doglike anatomy was far more than only external. Most of her internal organs had been replaced with a dogs, her stomach would have no issue digesting the processed mush, and her new tongue and olfactory organs would likely make it taste like the finest steak. Victoria didn’t really care either way, she would get to keep her daughter for the rest of her life. The rest of Amelia’s life anyway, because while she would have a significantly longer life than a dog, the nature of these surgeries had certainly shortened her life somewhat. But considering if she had let her daughter go off on her own for all she knew she could have died a week after moving out, so she didn’t let that bother her much.

Victoria positioned herself in front of the cage, sitting with her legs crossed, awaiting her daughter's awakening. The room was nearly silent beyond the sound of her daughter’s breathing. When Amelia's eyes finally fluttered open, brown dog eyes having replaced her previous pretty green ones, a bewildered confusion settled over her features. The reality of her new form, her new perception quickly overwhelmed her, and it was not without a note of primal panic. In that moment, her eyes met Victoria's, seeking an anchor in this sea of uncertainty.

Amelia's first attempt to speak was met with an unexpected outcome. Instead of words, a whine escaped her lips – her vocal cords having been as modified as the rest of her. The shock of this realization seemed to reverberate through her, adding a layer of distress to her already tumultuous emotions.

Victoria cooed soft reassurances, but they were rendered ineffective as Amelia's whimpers escalated into barks, an expression of her panic and frustration.

Waking up sore all over, with sudden color blindness and an assault of scents from her new internal nose organs was surely disorienting, barks the only thing coming from her throat, swiftly followed my whimpers and whines at the reality of her situation was complete overload, and as she tried to get to her feet, and realizing she essentially had four of them, on which she was uneasy as she had been unconscious for over a month, it was understandable she was unconsolable.

“Amy, darling. Calm.” Victoria cooed to her, her command closer to one for a dog than her human daughter. Amy whined in response, her mouth falling open and oversized tongue flopping out.

Looking around disoriented, her dry mouth and empty stomach quickly came into focus, the smell of the dog food certainly not the scent of a luxurious steak, but her nose registered it as food, briefly distracted from her predicament, she began lapping from the water bowl, her tongue well adapted for scooping up water but she was unpracticed and ended up splashing water everywhere, but her thirst was partially quenched, and immediately after her face was buried in the dog food. Victoria didn’t really like wet food, it was gross and smelled, and she’d need to wash her hands if it got on her, but she wasn’t the one eating it. When Amy got her second round of surgeries and new teeth she could switch to dry food, but for now Victoria would just have to live with feeding her dog-daughter wet food.

Having licked the bowl clean, she looked up at her mother, confused at how she looked slightly wrong, everything slightly less bright, less clear, colors missing, and the fact that she could smell her, she could smell her perfume, her skin, she could smell far too much about her mother. Amelia whimpered up at her mother.

“Sweetheart, I know this is all scary, but this is a good thing, you get to stay with mommy forever” she cooed at her, putting her hand on the bars and Amy’s hand instinctively comes up to meet hers through the bars. Seeing her fingerless hands sends another whimper through her throat.

“Do you want to come out? Are you gonna be a good girl?” Victoria asked, her second question making it exceedingly evident what their relationship is now. Amy nodded her head, her face sad.

Undoing the cage door, she opened it up, allowing Amy her freedom. She took the bowls from in front of her daughter and set them on top of the cage. Amy shakily got to her feet, lifting each leg individually to test them before taking a step forward, then another step. It’s a new experience, walking with four legs, but she manages to adapt relatively quickly, stepping out of the cage.

“There you go sweetheart” Victoria cooed at her, reaching up to pet her head, causing Amy to flinch away. “Sweetheart” she said somewhat sternly and Amy brought her head back, allowing her to be pet.

Getting to her feet, Victoria walked into the kitchen, leaving Amy alone in the living room and she followed, her steps slow as she adjusted to her new physique. Victoria returns quicker than Amy can reach her in the kitchen, crouching down in front of her daughter, holding up what she had retrieved. It was a collar.

Amy’s reaction was a mixture of reluctance and subdued resignation as the collar found it’s way around her neck, a dog bone shaped tag dangling from her neck. The gesture was a tacit acknowledgement of her new reality, a symbol of her altered existence.

In the weeks and months that followed Amy's return, their household returning to the routines they had adapted before, but there were no longer any illusions or dishonesty.

Amy's emotional state retained an undertone of melancholy, but in her new dog-like physicality it was less pronounced then it had been prior to her surgeries, even if it was more extreme.

On her first day home while she was still ‘pouting’ as her mother-owner called it, she decided she was just going to poop on the floor, she really had to go anyway, her digestive system was significantly shorter now. The consequence was swift and sharp – her mother's hand pushed her face right into her mess, and it wasn’t cleaned off till dinner time. This spelt out their dynamic nice and clear, she would be a good girl, or she would be punished.

Privacy became a luxury relinquished, as Amy was led outside on a leash for her daily bathroom trips. Her baths, previously daily, now every other week at best, caused her scent to shift gradually, smelling almost identical to a dog.

While her rare freetime, when she wasn’t expected at her mother’s side, was spent staring wistfully out the window, to the muted earth tones of the outdoors, the rest of her time was spent at her mother’s heel, sitting next to her or laying her head on her lap while she watched tv. She certainly didn’t mind the pets that accompanied it. Every day they had ‘playtime’ which encompassed a range of training. She would run back and forth, her new legs carrying her far faster than her original legs had, some small blessing. Licking and sniffing training became integral to her, as Amy was expected to adopt dog-like behaviors. She was taught to sniff and lick just about everything, as a dog would, for example if she wasn’t regularly licking her mom’s hand and burying her face in her crotch she’d find herself dragged by her collar to her cage with a blanket over it. The purpose was clear – to assimilate her into a new reality, where her human identity was subsumed by her animal-like existence.

Amy's diet shift to dog food was honestly the easiest adaptation, her new tongue, which had less taste buds than a human one, and sense of smell, made the bowls of wet food advertising flavors of some form of meat or gravy relatively inoffensive.

The hardest thing was the change in her relationship with her mother, or perhaps owner was more accurate. She obeyed, or she was punished, she slept at the foot of her bed, and the only words spoken to her were commands or coos about how she was such a good girl, or how pretty her coat was coming in, which she now knew was the result of the ‘medication’ she’d been given since before her transformation. Victoria had definitely felt it as well, while she had treated her daughter like property in the first place, she had no problem locking her up in her cage, or masturbating in front of her as if she was little more than an animal. She was even seriously considering letting her daughter stick her big dog tongue inside her, because she didn’t really see her so much as a daughter anymore, more a beloved pet.

After nearly a year living as her mother’s dog, Amy's scars had fully healed, and her body became enrobed in a full layer of light brown fur, while her mind was still very much human, she barely remembered a time before this was her life. The once-jarring routine had metamorphosed into a new normal, a testament to the adaptability of humans, or perhaps no-longer-humans.

Victoria was standing at the counter when her phone rang, and the reply to the person on the phone with her interrupted Amy, who had her face buried in her mother’s butt (which had become a pastime she had come to quite enjoy oddly enough), quickly replaced by a whimper and a whine that spoke volumes. She was going to the vet, and she knew what happened at the vet.

With Amy leashed, Victoria led her to the waiting car, her agility evident as she effortlessly hopped into the back seat. The journey was not accompanied by smalltalk, as Amy was hardly much of a talker at this point, but her mother did tell her she better be a good girl for Dr Ellie, or else she’d be spending time in her crate when she got home, which Amy hoped would be soon. . Arriving at the vet's office, They arrived behind the building, Amy’s physical state hardly something they could explain given her essentially human head, regardless of it’s layer of fur and black-rimmed eyes. Amy knew what was expected of her, so once inside the office she ran up to Ellie and when she went to pet the dog-girl her hand was met by a wet tongue and then swiftly by a face buried in her crotch. As little as she wanted to do it, Amy did enjoy getting to smell all the different scents she got from the vet, a whole new world compared to her owner.

As Ellie patted the examination table, Amy's agility manifested once more as she leapt onto it. She knew what would happen, but she also knew she had no choice, and with a pinch and a yelp, the world darkened as Amy succumbed to the sedation, her surrender to this unnerving routine a reminder of the choices that had propelled her into this complex journey of transformation.

Three years had passed since Amy’s last surgeries, no longer did any part of her resemble a human, physically and mentally.

Amy's body had become a canvas for surgical artistry, a tail wagged excitedly behind her, paws that moved in synchrony with her canine-like gait at the end of each of her four legs, a furry slit left behind where her fleshy vulva had once been, everything but the uterus having been transplanted into her, and her formerly human skull had been molded to resemble that of a pitbull, unnecessary parts of her brain removed to fit it inside it’s new casing, which certainly contributed to her lack of humanity. Pitbulls had always been Victoria and her daughter’s favorite dog breed, and now Amy was one.

Mentally, Amy was nothing more than a dog, her formerly critical mind replaced by the instincts and behaviors of her canine identity.

Walking through the gate and closing it behind them, Victoria reached down and let her dog off the leash, setting Amy free to explore the dog park they frequented to interact with her fellow canines in a dance of sniffs, barks, and wagging tails.

Victoria took a seat on a bench, watching her dog chasing and being chased, play fighting, and being her best dog-self, grinning as she did everytime she saw her former daughter. She hadn’t exactly considered the person she was trying to keep around would essentially seize to exist, but pets and a loving owner seemed like a good trade off, she’d never have to worry about a thing, and Victoria got the best girl anyone could ask for.

“Hey! Amy! No!” She shouted across the park as she watched Amy lean down and began eating another dog’s poop. At least she had the decency to look guilty, if dogs could feel guilty, as she swallowed it. Not like telling her not to had ever worked in the past, Amy was a bit gross, it was the first thing she had done after her final surgeries that solidified that Amy was no longer anything more than a dog, but at least usually it was her own poop.

“Hey, no! Down!” A man was shouting, having stood up from the bench next to hers and she realized he was shouting at Amy, or towards Amy anyway, who was being mounted by another pitbull, presumably the man’s dog.

“If it’s okay with you it’s okay with me” She told him, coming up to stand up next to him. “She’s not exactly fixed but she can’t have any puppies, so no worries there” She said looking to him with a grin.

“Oh, well, if you’re sure” He said, looking to her with a small grin, and Victoria glanced over to where Amy was being knotted by the male dog. Well if one of them is getting fucked…

“You want to come over sometime? You can bring your dog” She told him with a flirty grin.

#Dog TF #Surgical Transformation #AI Assisted #TalesOfMeta

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