Work Text:
You toss down an employment contract nearly fifty pages dense. It’s so heavy that it thuds against the table like a brick. You haven’t read a quarter of it yet, but you know that it doesn’t detail anything like the offer you were hoping for. After being called back to the office just days after an interview, you had hoped for something a little more auspicious than this. “I’m sorry, ma’am.” You apologize to the mildly disheveled looking supervisor sitting opposite of you. The nameplate on her desk reads: ‘Carmina’.
“I think there’s been some sort of mistake? Or a mix up. I interviewed for an engineering position. You had me take an aptitude test here.” The contract is offering something else entirely: a security job of vague specification. A subtle but distinct frustration bleeds into your every word. Carmina sighs, blatantly exasperated after just seconds of conversation. Apparently she’d expected you to eagerly sign on the dotted line and not waste anymore of her time. “If you wanted to be an engineer with us, you should have done better on that test.” She replies. The dismissive answer stings, but her bluntness stuns you, silencing any interruption you might have issued. Carmina continues, her tone taking on a sweeter lilt. “Luckily, you scored high enough in ‘Asset Protection’ to earn an equally prestigious role here! Congratulations.”
“That doesn’t make sense. I’ve never been a security guard or anything like that.” You bite back. Practically bristling with annoyance, you push your chair away from the desk with full intent to stand and leave. Carmina halts you with a lifted palm that bids you to wait. “You should give the salary and benefits a look before you walk away.” She informs you. With practiced ease, Carmina flips through the contract to point out the exact page in question. You lean in to read, initially just to humor her before putting the company behind you. But the figure printed there isn’t just substantial; it’s more compensation than you’d have dared to ask for as an engineer. Suffice to say, it’s far beyond what you ever thought a security guard would make. Carmina reads the disbelief written on your face in an instant.
After clearing her throat, she speaks once more. “We’re not worried about your lack of experience. The aptitude test is a measure of your potential for a specific role, and we’re confident in the results it produces. You’ll be trained extensively to ensure you’re ready before your first real shift.” Without waiting for a response, Carmina rolls a pen noisily your way, the writing implement already uncapped. You glance between the contract and the smug woman across from you, filled with bewilderment and a modicum of hesitance. This seems too good to be true. “Come on.” Carmina urges you. She places both elbows on her desk and draws in closer, her knowing smile as infuriating as it is self-satisfied. “Are you really going to leave all that money on the table?” You can’t. You know you can’t. It would simply be irresponsible. Reluctantly, you take the pen in hand and sign your name as neatly as possible where your signature is requested.
As though you’d flipped a switch, Carmina’s mood turns on a dime. “Welcome to the team!” She chimes, taking up the completed paperwork and tossing it into a file cabinet. “I speak for the entire management team when I say we’re very excited for you to join us.” The drastic change in her attitude practically gives you whiplash, but you have to admit you’re grateful that she’s lost some of her condescending edge. “Thanks.” You murmur. You’re still reeling in the relief that comes from a seemingly impossible stroke of good luck.
“Let’s celebrate.” Carmina says, her tone still warm but brooking no defiance. Before you can ask what she has in mind, she slouches down in her chair and disappears from view. The sound of a mini-fridge stowed beneath Carmina’s desk opening reveals her intentions. A moment later, she sits back upright with a bottle in each hand, filled with a light purple, non-carbonated beverage. As far as you can tell it’s a sport’s drink of some kind, though the total lack of a label prevents you from determining the exact contents.
Carmina sets one of the bottles down in front of you with purpose and gestures for you to help yourself. You’re thankful to have something to occupy your mouth that isn’t conversing with a soulless corporate shill so you twist off the cap to take a long swallow. It’s better than you’d have guessed, with a subtle but sweet flavor that goes down smooth. Drinking something seems to inspire a thirst in you, not that you need much incentive to finish the bottle. The sooner you’re done, the sooner you can bid Carmina goodbye. You get about halfway through your drink in one long, sustained gulp, before a sudden tightness in your throat causes you to choke. To keep from choking, you pull the bottle from your lips and return it to the table while giving a few short coughs. “S-sorry.” You sputter.
“Oh, don’t be sorry.” Carmina replies. She hasn’t so much as touched her own refreshment, a fact that you only notice now. “This is standard recruitment procedure. Most of our asset protection hires end up making a mess with the formula, so really you’re a clean one in comparison.” Shock takes a backseat to the spontaneous, intense sensations that wrack your body. In a bid to escape, you kick out of your chair, stumbling backwards towards the office’s entrance. You only make it halfway across the room before cramps in your legs bring you to your knees. Trailing up from your calves and into your body, rhythmic muscle contractions paralyze you. Screwing your eyes shut does nothing to cope with the pain or to obfuscate what’s becoming of you. Your very body is burgeoning, growing at a rate that’s utterly agonizing.
Your business casual clothes are becoming increasingly restrictive. The collar of your shirt squeezes your thickening neck, and the pressure of your waistband feels as though it could cut you in half. “Help.” You just scarcely manage to speak with an uncooperative tongue. Like every other part of you, your jaw is dislodged somehow; twisted into a primal form that’s best suited for growls and barks. Trying to grip anything in order to vent your pain, you dig your audibly popping digits into the floor beneath you.
Hooked claws shred the carpet to tatters. Meanwhile, your shoes aren’t fairing much better. The tight confines are so uncomfortable around your massive, brutish claws that you have no choice but to clumsily kick them off in a display that earns an irreverent laugh from Carmina. “I’d tell you to be careful with the floors, but that’s a lot to ask of a beast like you.” She muses. Even in the throes of your metamorphosis, your sensitive ears perceive her approach. Threads in your outfit finally burst, splitting open your top at the seams. A thick, rigid tail pushes your pants six inches down your thighs. “Don’t worry. You’ll be trained, just like I said.” Carmina assures you. Her palm rubs comfortingly up and down your lengthening spine, the affectionate but passing sort of attention that you might pay to someone else’s pet. “We’ll get you started with your muzzle, and once you’ve learned to heel you can do all sorts of useful things for your masters.”
Any attempt to spit out a rejection ends with a garbled, deep growl rumbling out of your expanding maw. All the worse, the swaying tail that’s grown from the base of your spine instinctively swishes from side to side at Carmina’s affections. Shame washes over you as you silently hope she doesn’t stop offering you pets. Amidst the likely permanent change your body is undergoing, and the humiliation Carmina is putting you through, you choose to instead focus on how much a traitorous part of you is enjoying the process. Overtaken by a longing for simple satisfactions; you find yourself rolling onto your side to submissively present your belly. With your new body, you could easily overpower Carmina, but that possibility never materializes as a thought in your gradually emptying head. With your new four legged gait and reinforced bestial behavior, no one would ever think you were a human to begin once you fully shed your clothes.
“See? That aptitude test knew exactly the sort of job you would excel at. A big, obedient beast like you could never be an engineer. Not even in its wildest dreams.” She speaks solely to enjoy herself. “Hold still, pup. We’ve just got to get you settled into your new uniform.” A smooth, leather collar cinches around your neck, just below your skull. Your durable neckwear is snug and comfortable, save for when Carmina gives a tug of your leash. “Come along.” The human commands, giving two harsh snaps to accentuate her instruction. “Our trainers will be thrilled to have a look at a hound as fearsome as you.”