Metamorfursis

All characters involved in sexual situations in this story are 18 years of age or older.

Must Love Dogs -- that's what the ad had said, and I do love dogs. But I had no idea that those three words would unlock the door to the strangest sexual adventure of my life.

At the time, the sentence that had really caught my eye was the next one: "Only women need apply." I was no equal rights lawyer, but I was pretty sure employers couldn't discriminate based on sex. And I really needed a job, and dog walking was a perfect one for me.

I was looking for something to fill the months until firefighter tryouts in the fall and, confident I was going to pass, wanted a job that wasn't long-term and also gave me lots of fresh air and exercise.

I'd worked as a dog walker the summer before, and had the time of my life doing it. Girls from the local college looking for part-time work staffed the doggy daycare I worked at, and I fucked at least half of them before the summer was over.

But when I showed up at this place, it wasn't anything like the dog daycare I'd worked for the year before. First of all, there was the name -- Doggy Style. I'm sure it was a reference to dog grooming, but all it made me think of was my favorite position for fucking. And secondly, there were no dogs.

Most doggy daycares I'd seen were always in big buildings with yards for the dogs to run free in, or warehouses that had been converted to have a play area inside. And there was always barking, lots of barking.

But this place was more like a lawyer's office, with the only sound being the soft, piped-in music that filled the waiting room. However, it did have one thing in common with the last place: young, cute college girls idly waiting around for a dog to walk.

The woman behind the counter was only a few years older than me, probably about twenty-five. She had her head down looking at her monitor, and as I leaned over the counter I could see right down her low-cut black blouse. She glanced up and caught me staring at her tits, but didn't blink an eye. "Hi, I'm Olivia, can I help you?" she said.

"Yeah," I said, and went to pull out my resume. "Hey, I just got to ask, how come there's no dogs here?"

Olivia smiled politely and said, "We're a dog walking agency, not a dog daycare. Our clients call us when they need their dogs walked, and we immediately dispatch a Doggy Style girl to their home. Now, how can I help you?"

I flashed her a smile and dropped my resume on the counter. "I'm here to apply for the job."

She didn't even look at the resume; she just arched an eyebrow and looked me up and down as if she'd never seen a man before.

"You should have just e-mailed your resume."

"I know, but I wanted to come and apply in person, and find out why you aren't hiring men."

"Oh, so you

do

know how to read...Brandon," she said, glancing at my resume before pushing it back toward me.

"Come on, just give me a chance," I said. "I've worked as a dog walker before. I'm strong enough to handle the big dogs no problem, and I can walk, like, six dogs at the same time."

"I'm sorry," Olivia said, "but when our clients call they expect a Doggy Style girl to come knocking at their door. Let's just say you're...unqualified."

As she gave me a patronizing smile, I couldn't help noticing her piercing green eyes and model good looks; her features were flawless, and she had lustrous, shoulder-length straight black hair. With that face and that body, I knew I'd have to get this job, if only so I could put her right at the top of my "to fuck" list.

I'd played lacrosse since I was twelve, over a decade, and was in great shape from it. I'd always had the looks that attracted the girls, and once they saw and felt my muscles they were usually hooked. I glanced to my right as a curvy, blonde dog walker flashed me a smile, and mentally added her to the list too.

Deciding it was time to pull out my physical resume, seeing as how she wouldn't even look at the paper one, I leaned over the counter and flexed my bicep. "Touch it, see how strong I am."

Olivia laughed. "You've got to be kidding me."

I was just about to change tact, and start begging for the job, when her cell phone rang.

I stepped back from the counter and waited while she spun her chair halfway around and whispered urgently into her phone. As I waited, the blonde received a text and stood up to leave.

Walking right up to me, she reached out and squeezed my bicep. "Mmm...very nice," she said. "I hope you get the job so we can 'work' together."

Before I could stammer a reply, she went to leave. As she walked away, she looked back over her shoulder; when she caught me staring at her perfect ass, she blew me a kiss.

It was nice to know one woman still appreciated me, I thought, as I adjusted my cock in my jeans. I looked back to the counter and saw Olivia, patiently waiting for me to finish staring at the blonde's bum.

"Sorry, I -- "

"Those muscles you've got," she interrupted, "you know how to use them?"

Seeing the dopey look on my face, as I had no idea what she was talking about, she said, "Do you know how to fight?"

"Uh...yeah," I said, "I played lacrosse for ten years. Why?"

"We're not the kind of dog walking service you're used to. But if you want a job, I've got one for you."

* * *

Ten minutes later I was standing on a front porch over in the valley. This was one of the nicer parts of town, where everyone had a perfect lawn and an expensive car. My beat up Integra was definitely out of place in the driveway.

Olivia had told me not to bother knocking so, quietly opening the front door, I went inside.

One of the dog walkers was having trouble with a client, and she'd sent me to get her to safety. I wondered why she hadn't called the cops, but when she told me her reasons I understood why.

I walked softly into the living room, where family photos lined the mantle above the fireplace. I was checking them to see if I knew anyone, when I heard the rhythmic squeaking of a bed from upstairs.

Taking the stairs two at a time, I moved quickly down the hallway until I reached the door the noise was coming from. Placing my ear against it, I could hear the client freaking out.

"Take it you little fucking whore...take it all...and as soon as I come, I'm gonna rip your fucking head off!"

After finding the front door open, I was surprised that this door was locked. But I easily smashed it open with my shoulder, splintering the doorjamb. I wasn't worried about the damage.

All I could think about was the damage I was going to do to this guy, who I thought was raping some teenage dog walker on the other side of the door.

I can't even begin to describe what I thought when I saw what he was raping -- a panda bear.

He was naked and on his knees on the bed with the large stuffed animal bent over in front of him, pounding his cock into a slit between the toy's legs while choking the shit out of it, literally trying to rip its head off.

He started, and spun around as the door crashed against the wall. "Who the fuck are you?!" he yelled.

He was covered in sweat and his eyes were glazed; he looked wildly at me as he tried to hide the stuffed animal by throwing it over the far side of the bed.

On the nightstand nearby, I could see lines of cocaine laid out on a small mirror with an assortment of pills beside it. There was nobody else in the room.

"Where's the girl?" I said, taking a step forward.

He jumped off the bed and took two steps toward me. He looked to be in his late thirties or maybe early forties, but he had a cut physique and by his tattoos and haircut he looked military.

"Get out of my fucking house!" he screamed. "Or I'll fucking kill you!"

"Where's the girl?" I said, adjusting my stance as I clenched my fists.

He took another step forward, and when he shifted his weight I knew he was about to take a swing.

I'm sure if he hadn't been so coked out I never would have got the first shot in so easily, but as soon as it landed I knew I'd broken his nose. While he was stunned, the second shot got him just to the left of his chin and he was out before his head hit the side of the bed.

"Julia?" I called.

A few seconds later, I heard a soft voice call from behind a door on the far side of the room. "Who's out there?"

"My name's Brandon, I'm the guy Olivia sent."

I heard the lock turn, and the door cracked open an inch as she peeked out to make sure it was safe. As she stepped out from the en suite washroom, she looked me up and down as if she wasn't sure I was real, and then glanced over and saw her client on the floor. "Holy shit! What did you do to him?"

But I couldn't answer; all I could do was stare back at her. And it wasn't just because she had one of the most beautiful faces I'd ever seen. It was because of what she was wearing. She was in a panda suit that made her look like the stuffed toy's mother, and was carrying the costume's head under her arm.

Seeing the stunned look on my face, she waddled over to the far side of the room where her clothes -- including her bra and panties -- were lying on the floor near the defiled teddy bear.

As she picked them up, she looked at her client, slumped against the end of the bed. "Is he going to be okay?"

"Yeah...I think so. I just punched him."

"Why did you have to punch him?"

"Uh, because he was about to punch me?"

She shook her head at me. "Just punch first and think later -- that's always the answer, isn't it?"

Before I could argue, she started to remove her costume. She had just slid it past her bare shoulders when she saw me staring.

"Can you wait outside while I change?" she said.

I knew it was going to be a while before stuffed-toy boy woke up. "Sure, yell if there's any trouble."

But once outside the door, I couldn't resist sneaking a peek through the doorway.

Her body was so sweet. She was athletic but on the small side, which was how I liked them, and barely over five feet tall and no more than a buck twenty.

As she wiggled out of the costume her perky tits bounced -- they were small but perfect. And when she stepped out of the costume and bent over to pull her panties back on, she flashed an ass that no man could say no to.

She pulled her panties up her toned legs and as she snugged them into place against her neatly trimmed pussy, she glanced up and caught me looking. I smiled apologetically, but she just shook her head again as she pulled her bra on and hooked it closed.

Walking around the room, she picked up her costume and the stuffed panda bear and put them in a duffel bag. She handed it to me to carry, and then went to the nightstand and opened the drawer; pulling out a wallet, she took a handful of hundreds from it.

Dropping it on the floor beside the client, she headed past me and I followed her ass as it bounced down the stairs toward the front door.

As we drove off in my rusted Integra, I apologized for not having a nicer car.

"A car's a car," Julia said, pulling her long, tawny brown hair back into a ponytail. "I'm not about appearances."

And as I looked at her, I could tell she wasn't. She was in a tee shirt and jeans and didn't have any makeup on. She was the kind of girl who was so naturally beautiful she didn't need it.

I knew I'd also have to add her to my list before the summer was up.

Trying to flex my arm as I held the steering wheel, I gave her what I thought was my most endearing smile.

"I could tell you were scared back there...you okay now?"

She turned to look at me and, as I gave her a reassuring wink, rolled her eyes.

"I wasn't scared," she said. "I was just worried when I saw all the drugs he was doing. I wanted Olivia to get me out of there, not send someone over to punch his lights out."

I knew the client was lucky that it had been me who'd shown up and not Olivia. She'd been so angry after getting the call from Julia that I'm sure she would have ripped off his head if she'd had the chance.

"We were both just really worried for you, and if you want to stop and get a drink or something to help calm down...my apartment's right near here."

"You're kidding, right?"

"I'm just offering because I figured, you know, after everything that just happened you might want a place to chill..."

"And maybe I can thank you for rescuing me once we get there? You know, get naked and let you fuck me while I'm bent over your couch and telling you how you're my hero?"

I tried to keep an eye on the road as I glanced over at her, not sure if she was joking or not.

"Because if you want to it's no problem," Julia said. "But you might want to hit a bank machine first to get the four hundred bucks it'll cost."

I did a double take. "You expect me to pay you?"

"Olivia did tell you what we do here before she sent you, right?"

"Uh, yeah...she said you guys were using the dog walking business as a cover for some kind of escort service?"

"It's not a cover, it really is a dog walking business. We just give girls who are interested a chance to make some extra money from clients who are looking for...special services."

"So some guy calls you looking for someone to walk his dog, and you ask him if he wants a blowjob too?"

"Believe me, when you're a young, cute girl -- you don't have to ask. When Olivia and I started this business, all we wanted to do was make extra money for school by walking dogs. But thanks to porn, most guys assume any time some cute college girl shows up at their door they're about to get a handjob. So one time, Olivia decided to see if they'd put their money where their mouth was."

"And did they?"

"You saw our office didn't you?"

I nodded -- it was a nice office. And looking at Julia, I could easily see why guys would pay four hundred a poke.

"But your customers...are they normal guys? Or like the freak I just rescued you from?"

"He's not a freak, he's just got different tastes. No matter what the fetish, it all comes down to sex."

"But fucking a teddy bear...and wanting to hide your beautiful body beneath that suit? That's definitely crazy."

"Umm...thanks," she said, brushing a loose lock of hair behind her ear. "He's what they call a plushie, or plushophile. He's normally harmless, but today he had all that blow and those pills. I've never seen him like that before. I don't know if he's got a problem with his wife or -- "

"Yeah," I interrupted. "I think he's got a problem. He likes to stick his dick in his kid's stuffed toys."

"They're not his kid's stuffies, they're his."

"So his wife knows he likes to..."

"No, I hold onto them and bring them over for 'dates'."

Now I'd heard it all, I just shook my head and drove.

* * *

Thanks to my fortunate timing, I ended up working for Olivia and Julia full-time that summer. My main duty was dog walking, usually the big boys like Great Danes and Pyrenees.

But I also did double duty as a driver, not only taking them to and from jobs, but also making sure that none of the girls had any problems with their clients. They felt a lot safer knowing I was a text away, and I kept hoping one of them might thank me with their lips around my cock. But none of them would take the bait.

And the girl whose mouth I really wanted around my cock wasn't interested in the least. Julia told me that guys like me only knew how to do two things -- fuck and fight -- and she didn't want either.

I tried to convince her I didn't like fighting, but in lacrosse you learn to defend yourself. I never started fights but -- like the panda-pumper found out -- I usually finished them.

And I wasn't a dumb guy. I would have been at college on a scholarship if I hadn't torn my knee in my final year of lacrosse. With my playing days over, I decided to become a firefighter, and I knew you didn't make the cut there unless you had both brains and brawn. I'd been taking courses for the past year to get ready for the firefighter exam, and I had no intention of failing.

As far as the fucking goes, nobody's perfect. When I played the game we always had female fans that we called stick bunnies hanging around the arena, and I realized early on that I could take my pick of the litter. And now that I was driving all these cute college girls around, the temptation was too strong to resist.

Unfortunately, their willpower seemed to be a lot stronger than mine. Every one that I tried to get back to my apartment politely declined. And any time I hinted at a friendly handjob or blowjob in the back seat of the car, they laughed and told me they weren't allowed to give away freebies.

I figured if I had to pay for it, I might as well save my money for Julia. I was sitting home on a day off trying to figure out how long it would take me to save four hundred bucks when a text appeared on my phone from her, telling me to come to the office.

When I walked into Doggy Style and nodded at Olivia, sitting behind the counter, I was amazed that anyone could think a place that nice was a dog walking service. I'd asked them before how they expected to fool anyone when the IRS came calling and they'd both just laughed.

Apparently I didn't realize how lucrative dog walking could be. Low overhead, minimum wage and no benefits apparently equaled big profits. And they were booked solid. In fact, many of the girls were genuine dog walkers, not escorts, and had no idea of the second business Olivia and Julia were running behind the scenes.

I found that out the hard way when I had to quickly backtrack after asking one confused girl if her parents had any idea of what she did for a living.

I walked into Julia's office and quietly shut the door behind me as she sat at her desk with her glasses on, reading her monitor.

When she saw me she quickly took her glasses off and fixed her hair, before closing her laptop.

"You should leave them on," I said. "Even though I didn't think it was possible, they make you look even sexier."

"Good to know. If you ever come up with that four hundred bucks to fuck me I'll make sure to charge you extra to wear the glasses."

"Don't I get some sort of employee discount?"

"Oh, that reminds me. I don't sleep with people I work with."

I smiled, trying to come up with a witty comeback, but couldn't; I was speechless, realizing I'd been saving my money for nothing.

Seeing the dumb look on my face, she smiled and continued. "So I know how you fight...how well do you fuck?"

If it was possible to be more speechless, I was.

"Not me," she said, trying to pull me back down to earth. "We have a client looking for a special service, and as soon as they called I thought of you."

"Umm...a female client, right?"

"Naturally, she -- oh, I'm sorry, did you prefer men?"

"No, I just -- "

"I was just wondering, because you're surrounded every day by all these cute college girls, and you haven't screwed any of them yet, have you?"

Not for lack of trying, I thought, but said, "I'm like you, I don't sleep with people I work with."

"Mmhmm...of course you don't," Julia said.

I knew that she'd probably expected me to get flustered when she asked if I was gay -- the usual male response. But honestly, the topic had never bothered me. Even though I was straight, my best friend from the lacrosse team wasn't, and I'd always got along great with him and his friends.

"I was just asking if the client was female because I didn't realize we had any that were interested in that kind of...service."

"We only have one," she said, "and she normally requests one of our girls. But she has a fantasy she'd like fulfilled, and I figured you could use an extra two hundred."

"Two hundred? Why do I only get two hundred when everyone else gets four hundred? This is discrimination!"

"Do you want the job or not?"

I hesitated before answering. "I guess so, but do I get to see what she looks like first?"