Summary

I once had a lover who would occasionally transform into a dog — and not even a purebred. Instead, some patchwork mutt of scrappy fur — but not without charm, not without beauty. It happened when I rubbed his prostate a certain way, and then I'd be trapped, I wouldn't be able to pull out. So I'd have to finish fucking him and after a few minutes I'd be released from his butt. Then I'd be really tired, I'd want to take a nap, but he'd want to play so I'd give him a biscuit and take him out for a walk. We'd go to the park and roll down green hills. I'd rub his belly and everyone who passed would rub his belly. They'd say, "Oh what a nice looking dog you have, what a charming mutt."