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Poor Jaime - Part Four

The door to the apartment came open and Jaime, startled, let out a ‘yelp’ that sounded far too dog-like to her floppy blonde-furred ears. She slammed the door to the bathroom closed, locked it and pressed her back to it. She put her hand over her mouth to keep another bark from coming out, as her tail was painfully pinned between her butt and the door.

“Honey? You okay?”

The scent of Josh seemed to seep through the door. It was something more powerful than his cologne or deodorant. She couldn’t help but sniff it, to drink it in. It was so . . . lovely.

‘He can’t see me like this,’ she thought to herself. She turned to face the closed door.

“No,” she answered weakly. “I’m sorry, I have an upset stomach.”

“Oh. Well, I got called into work. I’ll put your sandwich on the table.”

“Thanks . . .” she replied and could already smell delectable bacon and the fantastically warm chicken. As she did, she felt the tiny muscles in her cheeks and lips spasm. The smells of the bathroom were becoming stronger, just like everything else. She shut her eyes, not daring to look in the mirror.

“Do you need anything?”

“BARK!” She slammed her hand over her mouth.

“What was that?” he asked, curiously, now right outside the bathroom door. Again, the smell of him hit her nose like a tidal wave.

“Nothing,” she grunted, focusing all of her strength on not barking. “I’m fine. I’ll be okay. Have a good day at work. I love you.”

“Okay. Love you too!”

“Bye . . .” she sighed and resigned herself to looking the mirror. Her face was spasming and her jaw, cheeks, and teeth were all aching. Jaime turned and faced the mirror.

The bottom of her face was puffed out and swollen, her upper lip having merged now with her nose, with was wet and dark. She pressed her finger against it and felt that it was moist. She ran her fingers across the new change, the latest transformation to take place.

“lease stop there,” she said to no one. “lease stop. I can’t take any more of this.”

But it didn’t stop. Her stomach churned a little bit and she felt itching from her belly. And then . . .

---------

To be continued . . .

Drawing by
Colors and Story by me

Description
Poor Jaime - Part Four

The door to the apartment came open and Jaime, startled, let out a ‘yelp’ that sounded far too dog-like to her floppy blonde-furred ears. She slammed the door to the bathroom closed, locked it and pressed her back to it. She put her hand over her mouth to keep another bark from coming out, as her tail was painfully pinned between her butt and the door.

“Honey? You okay?”

The scent of Josh seemed to seep through the door. It was something more powerful than his cologne or deodorant. She couldn’t help but sniff it, to drink it in. It was so . . . lovely.

‘He can’t see me like this,’ she thought to herself. She turned to face the closed door.

“No,” she answered weakly. “I’m sorry, I have an upset stomach.”

“Oh. Well, I got called into work. I’ll put your sandwich on the table.”

“Thanks . . .” she replied and could already smell delectable bacon and the fantastically warm chicken. As she did, she felt the tiny muscles in her cheeks and lips spasm. The smells of the bathroom were becoming stronger, just like everything else. She shut her eyes, not daring to look in the mirror.

“Do you need anything?”

“BARK!” She slammed her hand over her mouth.

“What was that?” he asked, curiously, now right outside the bathroom door. Again, the smell of him hit her nose like a tidal wave.

“Nothing,” she grunted, focusing all of her strength on not barking. “I’m fine. I’ll be okay. Have a good day at work. I love you.”

“Okay. Love you too!”

“Bye . . .” she sighed and resigned herself to looking the mirror. Her face was spasming and her jaw, cheeks, and teeth were all aching. Jaime turned and faced the mirror.

The bottom of her face was puffed out and swollen, her upper lip having merged now with her nose, with was wet and dark. She pressed her finger against it and felt that it was moist. She ran her fingers across the new change, the latest transformation to take place.

“lease stop there,” she said to no one. “lease stop. I can’t take any more of this.”

But it didn’t stop. Her stomach churned a little bit and she felt itching from her belly. And then . . .

---------

To be continued . . .

Drawing by
Colors and Story by me