Archive for August, 2014

Don’t Fuck With My Dog

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , on August 3, 2014 by ofherbsandaltars

Last week, I found out that someone had reported a picture on my online dating profile, because it was a picture of my dog, and I wasn’t in it. This offended me, for two reasons – one, because I was in it, and two, because they clearly didn’t appreciate me as a dog. That’s why I put that picture up there in the first place – I’m a weredog, and if I’m going to find my perfect boyfriend, he really has to like dogs too. And there’s no way for me to put up a dog picture with ‘me’ in it as well, because I can’t be a dog and a person all at the same time, and I’m not that good at photoshop.

After a couple of days, stewing in bitterness about my dog picture, I decided to take action. It only took a few minutes of trawling through the ‘visitors’ listing on my profile, to find a guy who was online just before my picture was reported. His username was 12_Hard_Inches, and from his profile, he seemed like just the sort of dickhead who would report a picture of a non-human person, chewing on a sock in their garden. I decided it was time to pay him a visit.

There’s one thing that the mainstream media, and all the myths and legends about werewolves, have never managed to get right. The reason for this is obvious – male pride. It would absolutely cripple the viewing figures for True Blood if anyone knew the truth. But the truth is, whether you turn into a great big wolf, or whether you’re a slightly different breed, like me, and you only become a particularly large Labrador – when you shift, everything else changes as well. It’s a whole new body, the polar opposite of your human form. And with polar opposite, comes something else – a sex change. The male werewolves aren’t so proud of that one, not publicly at least, but when they find a werewolf girlfriend to shift with, they start enjoying the whole thing a lot more. You’ll never find them if you’re a human, but there are numerous underground websites dedicated to werewolf sex-switch hookups. I tried it for a while but those guys were pretty weird – they always insisted on fucking you in human form afterwards, really aggressively, just to reassert their dominance after you pounded them for hours all over the woods – their psyche couldn’t take that kind of pounding without some form of revenge. Anyway, I digress –

With the aid of a certain friend (werepoodle, doesn’t like to talk about it), I tracked down the location of Mr 12_Hard_Inches (who we discovered was actually called Nigel), and found that he was nice enough to leave a spare key under his doormat. I returned that night, at 4am, with a bag full of duct-tape, and snuck into the house. Still in human form, obviously, because dogs can’t really use duct-tape, and also because I wanted the dog part to be a surprise. I followed the sound of snoring through his grimy little house, and found the fat bald bastard practically comatose, drooling on his pillow. It was no problem to tape his hands together behind his back, and I’d almost finished tying his ankles to separate bedposts when he started waking up. He seemed pretty unimpressed by my surprise visit, so I duct-taped his mouth shut before he could say too much on the subject.

“Do you know why I’m here?” I asked.

Nigel said nothing, because his mouth was taped shut.

“I’m here,” I explained, “Because you reported a picture of my dog. You don’t like dogs, do you Nigel? Are you allergic to them, or is it childhood trauma? I really hope it’s childhood trauma, because then I’ll enjoy this even more.”

“Mmmffmnnnnn!” said Nigel, looking rather cross. “MMNNFFFFNNNNFFFNNN!”

When I started taking off my clothes, he went quiet. He stopped looking cross, and started staring at my tits instead, until I said “Watch this!” and turned into a Labrador. Then he started wriggling about on the bed like a fat naked slug, so I licked his left eye, and jumped on top of him. I breathed hot dog-breath down his ear for a while, and when he started crying, I shifted back into a person for just long enough to whisper,

Shhhhhh –  it’ll all be over soon…”

Then, I turned back into a dog, and fucked him up the arse. You know how dogs’ penises work? When you start fucking someone, as a dog, the base of your dog-dick swells up, and it gets stuck in there until you’ve well and truly finished pounding them. I’ve pounded Akitas and Collies, I’ve even pounded wolves, but Nigel didn’t seem to appreciate the skill and dexterity of the enthusiastic pounding I gave his arse.


I stuck my tongue in his ear, and kept on pounding away. When I’d finally finished, and managed to extract my dog dick from the depths of Nigel’s ruined arse, I turned back into a person, and put my clothes on. Then I freed his hands, and left him there, with his ankles stuck to the bed, and dog spunk dribbling out of his arse. I felt a bit dirty about the whole interspecies bestiality thing, since gagged humans can’t give consent to being bummed by a Labrador, but I quickly got over it – with a name like 12_Hard_Inches, Nigel was obviously gagging to be bummed by a Labrador – I probably did him a favour, the dirty slut.

After that, I went home, and watched some House while chewing on a dirty old sock – it’s a little post-sex ritual of mine. I decided that I was going to put a new picture on OkCupid tomorrow, of me as a dog, and if anyone reported that one, well, I’d bum them too, and I’d just keep on bumming anyone who messed with me, until everyone in the country had better manners, and had developed a healthy respect for Labradors.