The Hair of the Dog

My back aches, my coffee-and-Tylenol-fueled rush has died down. Making my hangover from last night’s birthday party linger once again. I need to drink way more water on days like this.

At least I’m on my way home from work now. I can finally relax and forget about the dumbass stress from today. Take a hot bath to warm up from this shitty car and it’s broken goddamn heater. I give so many curses to the person who refused to fix this car sooner.

Likely why I have shit luck, I keep cursing past me… I wonder what thing I didn’t do that’s causing me shit luck today…

I finally pull up to our apartment, and a smile finally creeps up on my face when I see my wife sitting in the front window. She must be excited to see me home, because she bolts to the door the very second our eyes meet.

I waste no time in letting her enthusiasm find an outlet. After all her enthusiasm is infectious. When I finally step up to the front door, Clover swings it open. “Ellie!”

God, I swear I could almost see a tail wagging behind that girl.

“Hey Clover sweetie! You’re awfully excited today.” I giggle, before wrapping around her in my freeze-dried jacket and gloves. She at least resists the cold long enough for a kiss. God, she’s the best at making me feel like I can take the world off my shoulders. Even if it’s limited to a short evening.

Clover reveals a box from behind her back when I finally release her from my cold embrace. “Ellie! Your birthday present finally came!” I can’t believe how adorable she is, positively vibrating as she says those last words.

The gift was a cardboard box, a few inches long on each side. Covered in asian text I couldn’t identify, not right now at least.

“Aw, thanks honey, I’ll take a look at it soon. Okay?” I say as I try to navigate around her to unburden myself of winter clothes.

She mercifully steps away and closes the door behind us, and coos out, “how wifey?”

“I’m, just, tired after work. Still feel hungover from last night too.”

“Oh! Try the tea!” Punctuating by holding up my gift again. Ah, she got me a box of tea…

I try to hide my disappointment. As much as I love Clover, she is always trying to convert me to tea. But honestly, I could never like tea, it always tasted weak and “leafy” in a way I couldn’t stomach. Plus, coffee was my lifeblood at this point, made it much easier to function on a day-to-day basis. I hate to make Clover sad though.

I should swallow my feelings and drink the damn tea; I might not hate it this time.

“Oh, um, sure. Just let me get ready first.” I mumble out, hoping that will give me a few moments of peace before I have to sacrifice my tongue for my wife.

I quickly cast off the shell of polyester and goose down; followed by the combat boots I refuse to exchange for proper snow boots. Next I rush off to the bedroom to change into something much comfier, my underwear and a tank top. Comfort with the illusion of modesty.

I stop briefly in the bathroom. I see my old enemy, the mirror. I don’t look bad today. My tits look apparent, fat is finally redistributing into the right places. But, even with all the positive changes, I can only tolerate the image in the mirror.

For as much as they’ve done, there are things that even the right hormones can’t fix.

An herbal scent greets me as I walk into the living room, where Clover greets me with Slowdive on the speakers, a teapot, a steaming cup of tea, a bottle of Mount Gay, and a–m-my collar?

Oh… that’s what she had planned for tonight. I freeze in my tracks before I hear the first command of the evening.

“Come here pup!”

I want to hide my face into my hands, keep her from seeing how much I love hearing my wifey call me that. But it feels wrong, to enjoy it this much. Even though we both know otherwise. It feels like something I’m not allowed to indulge in.

Thankfully we have had many conversations about this before, makes it easier to swallow my feelings and let myself listen to her.

I meekly plop onto the couch and lean against Clover, and bury my face into her neck.

“My pup had such a long day didn’t she?” Clover exclaimed in her creamy half-reassuring-half-patronizing domme voice. “Especially after such a bad hangover!”

It’s true, and I reply with a nod into her neck.

“It’s okay, your owner is here to take care of you! Mhm! That’s why I’m gonna collar you, have you drink a little bit of relaxing tea, and a little bit of the hair of the dog that bit ya to help you relax.” Her lips betray a knowing giggle as she says that last part.

To be frank, I don’t want to drink again. This hangover lasting until tomorrow would kill me. I would like a night where I can at least recover from the first one.

“N-no drinking please…” I plead.

“Oh! Darling! We won’t be doing shots or anything! Just a small splash of rum to help flavour the tea! Folks online told me it works better that way! Plus it’ll make you nice and warm!”

“No tipsy?” I meekly ask.

“No tipsy.” She reassures, “so will pup drink the nice warm tea? So I can make you into my nice warm puppy?”

I relax, it’s easier to slip into pupspace when I she helps me feel in control. I reply with a small nod into her neck, and wrap my arms tight around her. I can tell she’s smiling, as she wordlessly reaches for the table. I hold out my hand for the cup of tea I know she wants me to drink, and I can’t help but wiggle excitedly knowing I’m being a good pup.

A sweet giggle resonates as she sees my hand, “silly puppy! Why are you holding out your paw? Puppies aren’t supposed to touch their collars!”

Oh. I forgot about the collar. I got so focused on the tea that I forgot about the collar. In response I let go of my wife, and fold my hands into my lap. Straightening my spine and neck, sitting up like a good pet. I look straight ahead. As a consequence, my sense of touch goes into overdrive as it tries to feel everything; desperate to feel the reassuring pressure of my collar.

My lungs bellow as I feel the strap of the collar slip around my neck. The leather’s soft texture releases a long withheld sigh from me, betraying how much I desperately need to be her pet. All sensations fall away, and the only thing I can feel is my collar pressing into me as she begins to buckle it. I can’t help but relax, removing all tension from my body as it happens. I’m not a human with a 9-5, enduring a hangover. I’m a pet, and my owner is taking care of me, the only thing in my mind is her and her happiness. How being here in her presence makes me feel important. How seeing her smile brings flutters in my chest and stomach. How mind-meltingly incredible pets and scritches feel. How my body is meant for wagging, and my paws are meant for begging. How I know she’ll always want me, because good owners never abandon their pets; and she is the best owner I could ever ask for.

She finishes up buckling me by tugging two fingers under my collar. Then she asks me, as per ritual, “does that feel okay?”

I nod wordlessly. I couldn’t even begin to summon words to describe how intoxicating it feels to be hers. How wonderfully at peace and at home it feels to be with her.

Her arms grip me tight, and now it’s my turn positively vibrating, as she ruffles my hair with her hand and scritches in the perfect spot right on top of my head. Behind my “ears.” There is nothing in this world but the feeling of her, and her pets and scritches. Nothing but bliss as she feeds me what I crave. Touch and affection.

“Aw, somebody really really needed to be puppy today didn’t she?”

I gather barely enough awareness to nod in response.

“You’re still awfully cold! Especially your nose!”

I can’t help but grip onto her, little reminders and treatments like that make me feel… well you could say euphoric. It makes me think of having a leathery black nose, wet and cold with spit. I can’t help but shake and wiggle with the thought of licking my own nose.

“Sweetie, drink some of this tea so you can be a warmpup!”

I eagerly hold out my hands, making a grabby hands so that I can be a good pup for my owner. She places the radiating cup in my hands. It’s a dark black tea, but much darker than the ones I always see Clover make. As I pull it close it has a thick and rich aroma. I give a big smell before swallowing; it’s smokey and earthy, sweet, and boozy. Surprisingly, the melody works together harmononiously.

I take a tentative sip. It has a sweet taste, but it has acidic and roasted tastes; almost like coffee but weaker. Not in a bad way mind you, it’s good enough that it might even convert me to tea! A second larger sip reveals creamy notes, and that fruity sweetness from before. The melange of flavours coats my tongue with a thick mouth feel, intensifying the flavours.

“It’s good,” I coo, almost thrown out of pupspace by how good the tea was.

“Yay! I knew I could finally get you to enjoy tea!” She beamed with a strong smile.

“Mmmh~ where did you get it?”

“So um, lets just… Say it’s a special tea…”

I cock my head, those last words are filled with an ominous aura.

“Um, well, it’s that Kemono Tea that furries have been talking about online for the last few days…”

My head turns sideways. That answers nothing, and brings up even more questions.

“Um, well, it’s a tea that… Well… It transforms you into an animal…”

My entire body leans over, my hair is almost dripping into the tea I set on my lap. I turn upright as I barely begin to process her words.

“So… What?!? Are you joking with me or something?”

“N-no! It’s not a trick! It’s the real thing! I saw videos!”

“Videos of people wearing fursuits or something?”

“No! I saw a video of somebody turning from human into a mouse! And another girl turning into a cat!”

At that moment, I see what’s going on.

Oh, I see what’s going on now. You’re trying to do a mindfuck. Get me kinda tipsy to get me feeling weird, and tell me when I’m all subby and suggestible that I’m turning into a puppy. Is that right?”

I take one quick glance at Clover’s face to show the facade slip– and that is not the expression I expected. She looks defeated, genuinely hurt, and on the verge of tears.

Um, okay something is wrong. I immediately shift into damage control mode. “Honey, honey, look. I appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. But please, don’t try to spring a mindfuck on like this on me. I’m happy to negotiate first–”


I take a moment to pause. I can’t rationalize what she saw. It was likely elaborate makeup and After Effects in a video meant for OnlyFans. But, I know if I try to do that she’ll think I’m calling her dumb, or once again accusing her of lying. It’s for the best that I go along with it.

“I’m sorry Clover. How about you show me that video, okay? What you’re saying is just… It’s just hard to believe.” I pray to god that I managed to avoid making that sound condescending.

She sniffles and sits back down on the couch next to me, fumbling with her phone and giving small apologies for her outburst. As she does, I feel the hangover returning again, draining me of the joy we both . Sitting on the couch in my underwear and tank top is starting to chill me. I grab a blanket to wrap us both in, and think to sip on that tea again. I could use a drink to warm up, and alcohol to help, can’t hurt to add more ‘hair of the dog’…

I add a splash of Mount Gay and down another sip of my tea.

It’s a lot stronger now, it’s overwhelming. I taste the coffee beans and rum again, though they’re sticking out much more prominently. But now I can clearly taste freshly cut grass, and Saskatoon Berry. I begin licking the inside of my mouth to get more those wonderful flavours on my tongue. I take a big long sip again. This tea has officially converted me from coffee, it’s so much more flavourful and strong tasting than coffee. And oh gosh the aroma is getting stronger as I drink it. How has the world been keeping this away from me? How long have I been drinking crap tea that tastes like leaves and burnt water? I down the rest of the tea, desperate for more.

Clover sobs out a small, “okay, here it is.” She turns to me, mid-sip, and just… Staring at me…

“Hm?” I stare back, “aren’t you going to show me the video?”

“I… Uh… I don’t think I need to…”

Once again, I’m confused. Doubly so since it sounded like my ears were stuffed with cotton. I cock my head to the side and then feel a sudden ‘thump’ on my head. I try to brush it off my head, but my hand stops at a knot of hair on my head. Whelp, looks like I forgot to brush my hair this morning, another drop in the shittacular day bucket. I try to comb it out with my nails, but it’s stubborn, and I feel like I’m going to pull out a chunk of my head if I keep going.

Clover excitedly grabs my hand and puts it to my side, and tries to get the mat out herself…


I feel her rubbing the mat in my hair and it feels. Euphoric. Amazing. Blissful. I feel every muscle in my body relaxing and turning into goo as she massages my head.

“It’s my puppy! My puppy! PuppyPuppyPuppyPuppy!”

I nod with what little strength I could muster, happy and wagging as I feel her magical fingers.

“Oh my god your tail!”


“Wha?” I mumble out.

She grabs my wrist, and once again leaps from the couch. “Ellie! Come on! You have to see this!”

I try my best to stand up on jelly legs, and stumble behind her as she leads us to our bathroom. She steps in first and then has me follow behind her.

In the mirror I see Clover, standing in the bathroom. Then stepping in front is a girl with a black nose, leathery and wet, affixed to the front of her face. In place of the mat in her hair, I see a yellow-gold flap draped over the sides of her head. And a matching flap on the other side. I finally sense a twitch behind me. I slowly turn, and see the body turning in the mirror reveal a twitching yellow-gold tail poking out from her underwear.

Clover and I stand in silence as I begin to process what is happening.

I have puppy ears…

I have a puppy tail…

I have a black wet puppy nose…

My heart pounds and my breathing races to catch up. Every muscle in my face tenses up, and tears begin to fountain out of my face. I collapse into my wife, and grip for life into her. My sobs and tears are muffled into her chest as I hide into her. She holds me back, and we’re both very much aware of my tail wagging side to side as I unload this overwhelming happiness into her.

“My puppy’s happy isn’t she?”

I hold there, wagging. Fuck, floodgates have burst open, I can honestly say that I’m wagging. That I have ears perfect for rubbing and playing with. That I have a nose that I can lick and sniff with.

I can smell Clover’s scent; not only her shampoo and soap, but I can her sweat and pheromones. I can smell my wife, and she smells the same way a warm bath feels.

She grabs my shoulders and pulls me away from her mid-sob. “Honey, don’t you wanna watch this?” She turns me around to watch. My tears are finally held back as I see my nose grow outwards, pulling my mouth with it. My lips and cheeks feel much tighter as they’re being tugged along. The hair on my face grows thicker and lighter; and for once I don’t mind seeing my face covered in hair. My eyes next notice to that the skin around my lips and eyes start to grow darker in turn. Giving the appearance of permanent lipstick and eyeliner. Which, to be frank, is incredibly euphoric for me. The tears are fighting hard to escape again.

I reach up to feel the fur growing on my head, but I notice that it’s growing on my hands–er, my paws now. I take a close look at them, I didn’t even notice that my nails are now black and narrow; proper claws. My heart aches from overwhelming happiness. Years of shaping and painting my old “claws” into this shape doesn’t compare to seeing the real thing.

I turn over my paws, and my eyes go wide at seeing the callouses on my fingers and palms grow thicker. Darker. They’re genuine paw pads now. I press them up against my face. My fur is so soft and my paws are so rough and firm. It’s a beautiful and amazing inversion of what I experienced every single day of my life. It’s alien. It’s validating. I can’t stop rubbing my goddamn beans against my cheeks. My muzzle.

My tail is going into overdrive. It’s slapping against the walls of our tiny bathroom. Against Clover. It’s even knocking into the toilet roll holder and unravelling it.

I take another look at me. Not at my face, or any particular part of me as I had for years and years. I see every part of myself. My long golden fur covering every inch of my body. My muzzle with an uncontrollable slack-jawed smile. My ears that are raised and alert. My tail wagging so so so very much. My body that’s more feminine and beautiful than I was ever able to see before.

And behind me. There is the woman I married, the one who every day tried to help me see this. Even when it was impossible she could always see me. This version of me, and not the horrible visage I was forced to see every day of my life. The woman who is tugging at my collar with a smile.

“You collar looks a lot better on you now, doesn’t it doggo?”

My tears escape violently, and I cried an ugly beautiful release. Because I had never been this happy before. Not when I started hormones, not when I finally saw her walking down the alter in her wedding dress, and not even when she proposed to me with the collar that’s around my neck.


I know that I’ll never leave her side. Because a good pup never could abandon the best owner in the world.