Staying in Character Part 1

By Paul Calhoun

A trade with Dieter Schaumer.

An actress playing a queen being slowly turned into a legendary wolf has to wear her costume home for budgetary reasons. Her boyfriend isn't very happy and after he refuses to have sex with her she has an idea to show him what it's like.

“… and so, Queen Anaria, I finally catch you without guards or magic to defend you.” The sorcerer Gyri said, standing over the prostrate body of the queen of Althwe. He extended a slippered foot from the black hem of his green and gold silken robe of office of the archmage of Kinsanna, a kingdom recently conquered by Althwe after a series of aggressive raids by Kinsanna on the small, idyllic mountain kingdom. “Come, come!” The archmage said. “Surely you have a few words to say to the new king of your country before I dispose of you.”

“You’ll never hold on long enough to enjoy your new dynasty.” Anaria said, looking up with tearfully defiant green eyes at the archmage rather than the teenage boy sitting on her throne. She tossed her long black hair in contempt for both of them even as she raised a hand to keep her torn blue and gold bodice from revealing more of her heaving bosom than she could.

Gyri made no attempt to pretend that the boy king Nyriel was anything but a puppet, nor that the shapely body of the queen was of any interest to him. He paced back and forth, always facing towards the front of the throne room. “Perhaps you’re right.”

“The Guardian will-“

“I’m not afraid of some mythical lupine monster you put on your crest to scare the peasants!” The archmage cried. “It’s the peasants that worry me. No, no, you’re right. Your army wouldn’t follow Nyriel any more than I’d follow a duck.” He knelt and smiled, holding Anaria’s chin. She shivered at the touch and tried to look away. “Your wolf may be your salvation yet, dear Anaria. What a pity it will also take such loveliness from this world.”

“You – no one will believe the beast of legends killed me.” She wavered, fear beginning to win over rage.

“No, but they’ll believe that you sacrificed yourself to call it.” The archmage said, quietly but with enough projection to be heard through the hall, empty as it was of any but himself, the queen and the new king. He drew slender, wicked looking rosewood wand from his robe and hummed a spell to himself as he paced around the queen, who looked beseechingly out and down the throne room. He raised and lowered his arms, sometimes altering the pitch or volume of the incantation that came so quickly that it seemed to be a single ululation.

“What have you done to me?” She whispered when he concluded his chant.

“Made you into the noblest thing this silly superstitious nation could hope to ever see in their lifetimes.” The archmage said, stowing the wand in his robe. “In time. The spell will take hold in a few moments and begin transforming you into the Guardian, the Gonwolf of Althwe. It won’t happen all at once. If it happens in stages, you see, then people will see and know that it is indeed you and that you are becoming the Gonwolf for their benefit , sacrificing your humanity to make sure that the new dynasty reigns justly and with honor.”

“What-“ she convulsed, losing her grip on her bodice and baring one breast as she clutched her belly. “What keeps me from telling everyone the truth?” She grated when she recovered.

“Oh, my dear, but the Gonwolf has never been known to be capable of speech. You will be able to talk at first, I grant, but truly do you think I’d let you walk among the people in those days? No, I will say it is too traumatic and that you don’t wish to be seen until you are later into the transformation. When they can be reassured by how much to resemble both yourself and the creature. There will be a few of those who you trusted who will be allowed to see you early on. So they can assure others that it is indeed you. Should you make any attempt to tell them the truth you die and they die and I have lost little more than I would have had I killed you right now.” He stepped back as she had another convulsion. “I believe that covers everything.”

“Great job everyone!” The director called as the mood lights turned off and the studio lights came on.

Jacob Kinney helped Christine Anne Kingsley to her feet. “Time for the big change, eh?” He said in a soft British accent.

In post, the animators would show her feet getting larger and then pan up, lingering on a bulge in her lower back and her tail slowly poking out from under her bodice. They’d continue, showing the growth of fur on her arms, claws extending from hands turning into thicker fingered paws. To her hair getting thicker and ears poking out. She’d turn her face to the camera and open her yellow eyes while fur grew out of her cheeks and her nose widened, becoming black and shiny. She’d open her mouth just as her teeth turned to sharpened canines. Then they’d switch perspectives to the mark she’d be on after changing costumes. For now, she’d had to act like it was happening and they’d use stills of her after putting the costume on to do the animation.

“I can hardly wait,” Christine said drily, reaching for the crown of her head.

“No, no!” Lisa Brown swooped on them and rapped Christine on the knuckles. “Bad girl! You know you’ll get the wig mussed if you take it off like that. Here,” she fluttered around the starlet, adjusting her costume and taking the wig to hand off to one of her assistants. “Everyone’s in a tizzy about getting you all fuzzed up, ducks, so we’d better hurry.”

“Don’t hurry too much on my account.” Jacob said as Lisa bustled off with Christine in her wake. “I’ve got plenty of scene chewing to do on my own and I wouldn’t mind getting ahead.”

“Hmph.” Lisa snuffled as they went to the costume department. “That boy always inflates his parts so terribly.” She extended a long, bony arm ahead as she opened the door. “Afer you, ducks.” She took the opportunity to tug on Christine’s dress. “You actors mess things up so much doing those big histrionics.”

“I don’t know why you’re fussing.” Christine said in a southern brogue that would have appalled her agent if she’d used it in public, brushing her hand through her short dirty blonde bob. Her growing popularity meant she had to moderate everything about herself, including what used to be a very thick accent and almost stereotypically long curly blonde hair. “You’re only taking it off me now. Besides, what’s a wrinkle or a rip on somethin’ so tattered?” She teased, pointing to the artful rips in bodice and skirt.

“Now don’t bait me, ducks!” Lisa said, wagging a long finger. “You know how hard it is to keep an R rating when you’re showing as much as you are and that’s without your ‘help’ in making the dress even more ragged.” She snorted. “And you know what a fit those continuity fellows pitch when you get one thread out of place in the wrong scene.” She crossed her arms. “So. Get your butt out of my dress and let’s start on the big transformation.” She moved over to her tool cart and began gleefully removing tools, bottles, jars and other accoutrements.

Lisa loved her job and Christine had long since grown accustomed to being starkers in the presence of the people who treated her body more like a canvas or a statue than something private attached to a person. She and Lisa conversed easily but as Christine very carefully slipped out of the torn gown and royal slippers, she was further convinced that Lisa’s perception of her was in two very distinct segments. There was the body she added clothing, prosthetics and makeup to and the person she spoke to who was Christine and was little more than a voice that occasionally did things that messed up her work on the body.

They’d been through several pictures together and were great friends, but even when they were off set at a restaurant somewhere, she could see Lisa checking on whether she’d gained or lost weight, where, and where her newest bits of makeup and seamcraft would be best displayed. It was a very thorough and totally clinical objectification that worked wonders on screen. Her agent was quite emphatic about movies keeping her recognizable even through makeup and prosthetics, and she trusted Lisa to make that happen. So far her faith had proved well placed, though the producer in this film had finally hammered through a clause that in a few scenes she’d be behind a more thorough mask, but only for maybe fifteen to twenty minutes of the movie total. Her agent had grumbled but she’d secretly been pleased. She was looking forward to those shoots where she got to really branch out as a feral monstrous wolf critter. She shook her imaginary mane and growled, earning a reproving glance from Lisa. “All right, ducks, time to hold still and let me do a bit of foundation work.”

The naked starlet sat back in the chair as Lisa played the airbrushes, puffs and other applicators over her body. This was the most relaxing part. When she wasn’t having to sit up straight and still, barley breathing, or squeeze into something two sizes too small. Or worse put something on her face that tasted of rubber. Lisa had heard that complaint often enough that she had assured her dress-up doll that she’d considered Christine’s comfort for once and had made the stuff near her mouth and nose totally tasteless and odorless. Christine was reserving judgment until it was on. She focused her breathing exercises to keep from fidgeting, knowing that Lisa was as nervous as she was though for different reasons. What was being applied was the foundation not for makeup that would be seen on set but for a costume that would cover her entire body. What made them both edgy was that since she was the only actor who had to wear an elaborate costume or prosthetic, the studio had decided to pay her and Lisa extra and keep on schedule by having her stay in the costume when she went home at night rather than remove it at the end of the day.

“All right, ducks, let’s get you bundled up.” Lisa said, guiding Christine into standing without disturbing the layers of cooling adhesive which would hold the costume on and give Christine a little extra comfort in it. She started with a long tube of dark brown fur with a stirrup at the end that Christine put her right foot in. Lisa had to call in one of her helpers to get it and its mate up Christine’s leg and when the helper blushed slightly at Christine’s state of undress, the actress decided she liked Lisa’s clinical attitude better. The artist had emphatically refused to let Christine help. “No, ducks, we don’t want you sweating yet or smearing your foundation any more than we have to.” She assured Christine with a light pat on the cheek. “Bend your knees now and let’s see how I did.” Christine obliged and walked a little circle around the room, marveling at how Lisa had designed it so that it even hugged her knees and gave her full range of motion. She pet the fur that looked like it was growing out of her legs. “I guess I’d better not gain any weight.”

“No! Or lose any!” Lisa said. “Everything is sized perfectly right now.” She slapped Christine’s rear. “No growing or shrinking, ducks. Not if we want to stay on schedule.”

She and her helper – who Christine found out was named Linsey when Lisa shouted at her for holding the arms wrong – put a pair of fingerless furred gloves on Christine with arms that reached up to her shoulders. After showing that she could bend her elbows to Lisa’s satisfaction, the artist actually looked apologetic as she held a short, hollow rubber tube that bulged at one end. “This one’s going to feel really strange, honey.” She said, spreading something slippery over it. Christine fought down tension. Lisa rarely called her ‘honey’ unless it was bad. Trusting Lisa, she bent and did her best to remain relaxed as Lisa slid it up her rectum and then put a differently shaped one into her vagina. “The good part is that everything that goes on top of it is interchangeable.” Lisa said, letting Christine recover. “So we won’t have to do that again all week.”

“I’m going to have these in me all week?” Christine squeaked.

“Yup.” Lisa said. A tiny bit of pride entered her voice. “I designed them myself so you could do just about anything with them that you’d do without them there. They keep the fur on top from getting all matted and yucky from going to the bathroom and that. You can clean yourself like normal with maybe a bit of extra work on the fur nearby if you’re messy. Your hygiene isn’t anything I ever had to worry about before.” She stuck out her tongue. “I hope you’re not too bad because I’d like to use this outfit again.”

“Uh … I’ll try.” Christine said.

“Great, ducks!” Lisa said brightly. “Let’s keep going then. The worst is over now.” She held up a furry body that held its curvy shape despite being empty of a wearer. The sleevelets and pantlets would cover the edges of the gloves and tights with what Christine had no doubt would be a seamless transition. She stepped into the open back and not for the first time had to be hung from a slender cord attached to a pulley to get the body to finally go all the way up. “I think I will need to lose some weight after all.” She said, brushing the belly.

“Nonsense.” Lisa said as she sewed the back closed with tiny stitches that would be almost imperceptible to touch and invisible even to the HD cameras in the studio. “It’s a grand fit. Look,” she said, having Linsey roll up a mirror so her subject could see the results so far, “it’s like you’re a real werewolf.”

“Gonwolf.” Christine corrected.

“Not till the end of the week, ducks.” Lisa replied.

Christine really was impressed. The costume fit so closely that she still felt naked and so well that she could move with no feeling of stretching or pull from the fabric. The first day’s bodysuit had short, velvety brown fur that highlighted all the best parts of her body. It held her breasts individually in darts that had been made with her exact measurements with a tuft in the cleavage and the same went for her butt, which was helped by the costume’s having a ring inside between the curves of the cheeks and between her legs that went a little way into the inserts Lisa had put in before. The detail between her legs was well hidden by the longer fur that went from between her boobs down her chest, widening over her belly and then narrowing again to go along her crotch so that when those parts were bare in front of the camera they wouldn’t be seen.

Lisa held up a short tail with a short, ridged metal rod which she slid into a hole just above Christine’s ass that had been hidden by fur. Christine yelped at that and almost jumped despite all her training with Lisa to stay still no matter what her costumer did. It felt very strange. Like something cold and tingly was going inside but only in a small area. Lisa squeezed her arm. “Didn’t expect it to be like that.” She explained. “It’s in now, so give it a try.”

Christine twisted so she could see her tail in the mirror and frowned as she tried to flex the prehensile rod without making her whole rear end move. “Oh!” She complained.

“Does it hurt, ducks?” Lisa asked worriedly.

“No. It’s fine.” Christine threw up her hands. “Now I have a whole new limb to emote with and I don’t have nearly enough time to learn how to do it properly!”

“Oh, actress stuff.” Lisa took out a pair of clawed feet. “Sit down and let me slip these on you.”

Christine yelped again when she sat on the tail. “Holy moly, Lisa! I can actually feel it when you touch it.” She said when the costumer stroked the tail to make sure she hadn’t damaged it.

“It’ll help your reactions on set, won’t it, Chrissy?” Lisa said cheerfully.

“Yeah, it will.” Christine said with awe at the skill of her artist friend. She sat cautiously and found a way to sit back without crushing her tail. Lisa slid her feet into the canine boots that were barely bigger than her regular feet and had them sewed on in a few minutes.

“Walk around a little.” Lisa fussed as Christine paced, adjusting the fit until the padded feet moved as naturally and comfortably as she could make them. Christine was glad for anything that minimized how long it would take her to acclimatize to having bigger feet. Motion was key on camera and the closer the wolf feet followed her normal stride the better. Close fitting black-clawed gloves followed and gain came the tests of dexterity, though since the gloves were exactly like her own hands but for a set of paw pads and claws she wasn’t as worried. Lisa frowned when she asked if the paw pads could be made smaller to make gesturing easier, but a quick consultation with the director and writer had them agreeing to make larger pads part of the next day’s transformation. So she got smaller pads for that day and could get used to them before going up a size.

Finally came something she was quite used to: sitting back for an hour or so as Lisa glued the facial prosthetics in place. The lupine mask came in pieces with little bits of fuzzy elastic that connected them so that Christine’s own facial structure was still recognizable and she could freely change her expression and speak without impediment. That day. The next would change that. For the time being she kept her expression totally neutral as the glue set and Lisa hid her ears with a longer, more mane-like wig of black hair in the same color she’d been wearing as Queen Anaria. A pair of dark brown wolf ears poked out of the top and it was secured to her scalp with an arrangement of glue that made sure that it flowed naturally but never revealed her human ears. She opened her mouth on command to have her teeth covered with canine dentures and to secure the lips to hers. To her amazement the whole set was as lacking in rubbery taste and smell as Lisa had promised and she was almost bubbly despite now being covered totally in fur and with a wolf mask glued to her face. She was even optimistic about the new contacts. She hated wearing them, but it was cheaper than making her eyes yellow and gold in post production and these were supposedly super comfy. She hoped so since she was going to have to sleep in them. They stung for a moment and then the feeling mostly disappeared so she was satisfied with that.

“How is it, ducks?” Lisa asked nervously. This was the moment where she was most vulnerable. She could deal with directors giving her grief, but she hated it when Christine had even the smallest problem.

Christine turned, bent, almost pressed her broad black nose to the mirror. She wagged her tail, tucked it between her legs, posed with her claws displayed and then with her hands one her hips and her back twisted in the way she was always shown in posters so that the horny men could see her bum and boobs in the same picture. It was the mask that impressed her the most. It kept her heart-shaped, high cheeked face intact while still being completely covered in fur and with a wider black canine nose which, like her lips, had been changed but still retained some aspect that made sure the audience could tell it was her. She smiled and licked the sharp teeth that were hers but pointy. She looked at Lisa, grinned with that wolfish face and spread her arms. Her costumer beamed back and hugged her. “You’re just a big ol’ teddy bear.” She said. “Best to run along, ducks. I’m sure everyone is just dying to see how you turned out.”

Christine threw on a robe and strutted confidently back into the studio, giving little swipes with her paw and ‘rawr’s to passing grips, assistants, and stagehands. Jacob was in the middle of a scene in which he was telling the Marshal of Althwe’s army that he would serve or die and Christine waited to enter so that she came in just as he ended a line about what spells the archmage would use if he was defied and how many would die if Marshall Alverin refused to submit. When the scene ended, Dereck came up and punched Christine lightly on the arm. “You weasel. I do not need help with my shocked look, thank you very much.”

“Weasel?” She growled, practicing the rougher, deeper voice she’d be using for when they called her back up for another scene. She bared her teeth. “Call me that again! I dare you.”

“Now now, children, behave.” Jacob said as he stepped off the platform they’d built the throne room on. “Lisa did a bang-up job this time. You look marvelous, dear.”

“I do, don’t I?” Christine said, raising her arms, shedding the robe and turning to show off her body.

“Egomaniac.” Jacob replied, tweaking her wide black nose. She snapped playfully at his hand and he laughed. “You’re a feisty puppy, aren’t you? Will’s a lucky man.”

“I don’t know…” Christine said. “He usually doesn’t like me taking my work home with me.”

“Honey, if I were twenty years younger I’d be ecstatic if Lily came home looking like you. But maybe I just enjoy a bit of rough animal style. Oops,” he winked, “it looks like Harold’s trying to get our attention. I think we’re up.”

Christine rolled her shoulders. “Up we go then.”

“Lisa outdid herself,” Jacob said as he took his place standing above her as she lay on her side with one arm out in a pose of exhausted pain. The lights changed and they got their cue.

“Come now! It wasn’t as bad as all that.” The archmage said jovially as he reached down to pull the queen up to sit with her back on the wall. A camera off to one side was filming this so that they could focus in on her face. “Surely-“

“Cut!”

“What now?” Jacob asked peevishly.

“Lisa forgot to give Christine her dress back.”

“Oh for-“ Jacob looked heavenward. “This is what we get for hiring such lovely leading ladies. We get so wrapped up ogling them that we lose track of important things like clothes.” He grinned at Christine as a hand ran to get the dress. “I suppose I should have guessed that I wasn’t supposed to be getting nearly the eyeful that I am.”

“You’re fine, but we don’t want to scandalize the folks in row eight.” Christine joked back.

Lisa ran in with the dress and a brush, mumbling an apology to the director and an annoyed snuffle at how Christine’s fur wasn’t arranged right if she was supposed to have just been changed. When everyone else had been chased off and Christine was back in her royal blue and gold gown, she lay back in her ‘hurt’ curl and Jacob took his place standing triumphant again. They got as far as her sitting up when the director insisted on a close-up of her face and she regarded the camera with large, lambent liquid eyes until the director was satisfied. She knew not to summon tears that would flow and potentially soak into the fur of her mask or loosen the glue.

The director called for the next scene and she struggled to her feet, defiantly refusing to take Jacob’s hand. She fell fully back into character, raising her chin and asking in a voice that resonated with a deep growl, “Am I to be chained like a common dog for your amusement, wizard?”

“Your highness!” The Gyri said, clutching his heart dramatically as Anaria’s eyes widened momentarily at not being addressed as ‘majesty’ and then a glare at his using her new title. “You wound me. Your chambers and comforts will remain unchanged, save that you will have but one maid. I’m sure Tamsin will be happy to stay on, but the rest of your staff will have to be kept way. For their own protection, of course.” He added as she snarled at him. “Your transformation may make you dangerous for a time before your master your inner beast. I’m also certain you would not speak of my involvement in your change to your dearest friend, nor would you lash out at her.” He held her chin and she snarled again. He laughed. “We shall also have to find garb more fitting of the legendary Gonwolf. Your legs must be allowed to move freely if you are to pursue the unjust and your arms must be unfettered to best rend their flesh.” He tore the dress off of her along the premade rip seams.

Anaria covered herself with her paws, her tail between her legs. Then her head snapped up to bare all her teeth as she focused back on her captor. Her growl grew in menace as the archmage surveyed his handiwork. “Lovely even in this beastly form.” He said. “Allow me to escort you to your chambers and call Tamsin to educate her in her new duties. You must have all the comforts that can be given during your transition.”

The lights offstage rose again and Christine slapped Jacob’s hand away as he playfully lunged at her. “Down boy!”

Jacob panted at her and grinned. “I’m going to need a cold shower soon.”

“Go and cool off, then. My next scene isn’t with you, thank goodness.”

Lisa was on them the moment Christine stepped off the stage. She peered into Christine’s eyes until the actress finally broke. “What?”

“The lights are too hot for the glue.” Lisa said. “You’re starting to peel.” She took a pot out of her pocket. “Hold still.” She stuck some of the mask back on to Christine’s face and then turned on the director. “You’d better get the thermostat down ten degrees or you won’t be on schedule much longer. Either that or lower the lights.”

Harold sighed. “That’s not going to be a popular decision with those of us not under the lights.”

“Tough. You wanted her to wear that long term, you’re going to have to deal with it.”

Harold had a whispered conference with some of the hands and nodded to Christine. “Your next few scenes are in your chambers anyway. We lower the temperature a couple degrees without much fuss and the lighting there won’t be as strong. Happy?” He said to Lisa.

“That’ll work for today, but we’ll have to figure out another arrangement soon.” Lisa reminded him.

“Twenty-four hours is a long time in shooting,” the Harold replied. “I’m positive that a lot of headless chickens have already been released. Okay, Chrissy, set two. Dinah! Where – oh, hello, honey. Yes, up with Chrissy for the scene. Remember your character. You’ve been serving her majesty since you were a little girl and grew devoted to her. Remember! Seeing her like this will be a big shock but one you’ve been warned about. Balance that. You know in your head, but not your heart but you also don’t want to upset the woman who is your whole life. Go! Oh, and Chrissy your character is preoccupied with her curse, worried about saying the wrong thing to Tamsin, needing sympathy but trying to keep her convinced you chose to do this. Mix all that together and go for it!”

Queen Anaria stood, her head bowed and shoulders tense. Her entire body was perfectly still, fighting competing urges to throw herself on the bed, beat on the door, and pace. She turned as the door opened and Tamsin knocked. “Your ma – your highness?” She asked meekly. “Eep!” She squeaked when Anaria turned around completely, her tail swishing briefly at the sight of her favorite maid.

“Hello, Tamsin,” she said with a brave smile. Her maid shrank back from the mouthful of sharp teeth and Anaria put her paws on her hips. “It’s still me, Tamsin!” She said, the growl in her voice growing stronger with her frustration.

“I’m sorry, your highness.” Tamsin said. She slipped in and closed the door.

Anaria stared for a moment at the young woman cowering in the corner and then sat down. “Please, Tamsin. This is hard enough without you being frightened. It’s me.” She looked up at her maid beseechingly and Tamsin smiled shyly, stepping forward.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I didn’t expect-“ She bit her lip.

“You weren’t expecting your lady to have changed so rapidly?” Anaria asked. Tamsin nodded. “I don’t know how fast the changes are, but you’ll always be safe with me.” She tossed her head. “My hair is a mess.”

“Let me.” Tamsin sat beside her and began brushing Anaria’s hair. Offstage, the actors could see Lisa staring intently at Dinah, making sure she didn’t hurt the costume. Tamsin moved the brush down and Anaria jumped. “Is that all right, highness?” Tamsin asked, stopping.

“Yes – yes.” Anaria put her paw on Tamsin’s hand. “I guess I’ll need a lot more brushing from now on.” She arched her back as Tamsin moved the brush down – pushing her fur covered boobs towards the camera – and then stood to let the young woman finish brushing. Luckily for the take, Dinah’s back was to the camera when she got her first close look at the costume from below and Christine was able to keep the expression of building relaxation and affection for her servant despite wanting to burst into giggles or push the brush into less sensitive spots. She jumped when Tamsin went over her tail, but turned it into part of the performance, acting as unaccustomed to the tail in character as she was in reality and twisting around to wag it experimentally. “I should find something to wear.” She said as Tamsin finished flicking the brush across her feet.

“His honor Gyri told me that you were to wear something less restrictive than a court gown.” Tamsin said, sounding doubtful that her lady would be properly garbed in anything less.

“I must agree,” Anaria said, the growl growing in the back of her throat, “that I do not wish my … new fundamental anatomy … to be covered. It is quite sensitive right now.”

“All right, wardrobe montage!” The director called. Christine sagged, but bore up as she was made to model a succession of gowns, split skirts, peasant dresses and other ‘period flavor’ outfits all while pretending to be enjoying it and looking at herself critically. If they weren’t on a schedule, she might have actually enjoyed trying out all those dresses on her new wolf body. By the end she was in what Tamsin on screen called a ‘scandalous’ green corset that left her shoulders and arms bare as well as ending above her tail, and a pale green split skirt that went just below the knee. Then she and Dinah got to have some time to sit and chat about their lives and the studio as they shot a silent piece showing how comfortable the two characters had gotten which would have uplifting music added for production. “I’m really jealous.” Dinah said as Christine sat in an ornate chair and Dinah pretended to be doing some domestic tasks around the bedroom set. “You’re the lead anyway, but with that on…” She stopped and touched Christine’s arm. “Everyone will be paying attention to you. You look so sexy and like you’ve really been turned into a wolf thing.”

“Your time will come, hon!” Christine said, squeezing Dinah’s arm back. “Besides, I have to live in this, remember? Sensational or not, it’s going to be a pain getting to my place and back without being seen. And my boyfriend’s probably not going to be very happy.”

“No?” Dinah pretended to dust a wardrobe.

“No.” Christine replied. “He likes playing dress-up, but he also likes taking it all off when he’s done.”

“Yeah, I guess mine would be all fun and foreplay at first, but he might get tired of spooning a giant stuffed animal and want his girlfriend back eventually.”

“Thank goodness it’s not that bad yet. Later this week…” Christine bit her lip and had to be reminded by the director to stay cheerful and Lisa not to scratch her mask with her false canines.

“Great!” Harold called a few minutes later. “Christine, you can go home for the day. Jacob, Dinah, we need to do the previous scene. Christine has two more tomorrow before her next stage in transformation, so let’s get her done early so we can have a big block of others done while she’s in the chair.”

Christine padded back to her dressing room where Lisa had laid out an outfit for her to go out in. The studio didn’t want anyone getting a good look at her costume and spoiling things, so she was stuck wearing an extra layer on top of the fur. Lisa had done her best with a long, loose white linen skirt and a green and white striped sweater with extra long sleeves that she could pull her paws into when she was out in public. A pair of soft booties to protect her feet was followed by the kind of huge sunglasses that everyone but Christine seemed to think all young women should wear, a shawl and a bandana. All in all, she thought, no one would know it was her much less her in a wolf suit. When Lisa came in to check on her, she said, “The skirt and top are a bit genki girl.”

Lisa laughed. “I was a teenage werewolf geek. Watch what you say or someone will think that’s a good idea and you’ll be right back in that costume doing a B movie parody. Is Will picking you up?”

Christine nodded. “The studio’s letting us borrow a driver and a car for going back and forth, though, so he’s there entirely to make sure nobody bothers me.”

“He’s a good man.”

Christine nodded again and adjusted the sunglasses. “I love him even though I know he’s going to be down on me spending a week straight in costume like this.” She pulled her paws into her sleeves and went out. William was waiting for her in the lobby, staring vacantly out the door and down the road at the ever present collection of photo journalists who hung around the entrances of movie lots hoping for a good shot. Knowing Will was going to be unenthusiastic anyway, Christine decided she may as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb and removed the shawl, sunglasses and bandana, stretching her arms over her head to free her paws from the sleeves of her sweater. She pulled the elastic waistband down so her tail poked out and wagged it to show how she felt about what she was about to do.

Christine crouched down, finding that her tail naturally arched so it kept low when she did so. Creeping forward, she got right behind Will before she saw the guard at the desk looking at her. She put a claw to her furry, split lips and the guard recognized her facial features well enough to grin and turn slightly away, though she kept one eye on Christine to see how her boyfriend handled what was coming. Christine jumped up and wrapped her arms around Will, pressing her cold black nose against his neck and leaping into the air so her weight fell on him. “Hi, honey!”

“Blargh!” Will said. “Christine!” He laughed. “Stop sneaking up on me, and what was that cold – gack!” He’d finally turned and seen his lupine girlfriend.

Christine put her paw on her hip and pretended to look exasperated. “Is that any way to react to seeing your beautiful girl after a day away?”

“Chrissy…” Will glared at her. “What’s all that?”

“What this?” She held out a fold of her skirt and turned in a model’s pirouette. “Just a little something I threw together to surprise you with. Surprise!” She wagged her tail and pretended to pant at him.

“You know what I mean.”

Christine held his face in her paws and pressed her masked lips against his, keeping the pressure up with her tongue until he reluctantly opened his mouth and kissed her back. He relaxed a little in her embrace. “See? It’s not so bad,” she crooned. “We’re on a tight schedule, so I’m going to have to stay in costume all the time so I can do my scenes whenever they need me. Don’t you remember me telling you?”

“I thought you meant coming home and going to work in some princess dress. Not … this!”

Christine tweaked his nose. “Now how would that be a big savings in time? You know I do a lot of work in these sorts of prosthetics and that. It’s ironically less expensive these days than animating me.” She picked up her headgear and covered herself up again, gladly accepting Will’s help when he softened and tugged her sleeves over her paws.

He held her like he always did on the way to the car, a close embrace that gave her security and screened her from stray photographers. He even opened the car door for her and helped her in before sliding in next to her a little more slowly than usual. She immediately reached back to untie the bandana and Will put his hand on her paw. “We’ll be there soon. Shouldn’t you leave that on?”

Christine looked at him as she continued removing her disguise. “I’m hot, Will. Look at this.” She rolled up her sleeves. “It’s all over and with the mask on my face I don’t cool off easily. Besides,” she cuddled up to him and rubbed his chest. “You know you like it.”

He put his arm around her and massaged her back. “You do look cute…” He said at length. “Do you really have to keep the mask on?”

“That’s what takes the longest,” she pressed the nose into his belly and was rewarded by a cry of dismay at the cold. She relaxed as he pet her and lay her head on his chest. “It’s only for a week, honey.” She wheedled, her accent getting stronger. “Let me be your lil’ puppy dog.”

“I’m sorry, Chrissy, I’m just not into that.” Will said. “I’ll try to be more supportive, but I can’t pretend I like it.”

Christine nuzzled him. “That’s all I can ask. Pretend I’m not wearing it.” She pushed his hand under the sweater. “I’m totally me under this.”

Will obligingly let his hand wander up her belly and to her chest. She squirmed at his touch and growled. “That feels so good.” She unzipped his pants and ran her claw down the length of his shaft. “How does this feel?”

“Those pads, ”he gasped, “feel pretty good.”

“Good.” She slid up to kiss him. He slowed down and she scratched him lightly on the cheek. “Now, honey, remember when you grew a beard? I wasn’t thrilled but I got used to it.”

Will smiled at that. “You would bring that up.”

“Am I wrong?”

“No.”

“Then…” She pushed him down but they’d barely regained their amorous rhythm when the car stopped. Christine sat up and ran her paw down her hair as she looked for the bandana. “I should have told Lisa to take the wig off.” She said.

“That would have helped.” Will said. “With the heat and … other things.”

“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have these adorable little ears!” Christine said. “And wouldn’t I look like a silly doggy without her ears.” She shook her sleeves down and shrugged. “How do you feel about a bit of erotic brushing?”

Christine had hung the skirt and sweater up within moments of their arriving at the three-room house she’d bought in the suburbs. When she descended the stairs wearing nothing over the costume, Will whistled and Christina threw a sock she found on one of the steps at him. “That’s so bad!”

“So is walking around the house buck naked.” Will countered.

“I am one hundred percent not naked.” Christine said. She turned away, craned her head around to look over her shoulder at Will, bent over and wagged her tail. “I just look very suggestive.”

Will took a handful of brown furred buttock and squeezed, eliciting a squeak of outraged delight from Christine, who straightened up and threw her arms around him. “So I’m sexy?” She said in a soft voice.

“I’m not sure there’s anything that can stop that,” Will said, smiling as his human nose rubbed her canine one.

“Maybe I ought to put something on.” Christine said.

“Only if you want to, I know you’re hot.” Will leered. “In so many ways.”

Christine cupped his chin in her paw. “Perv.” She drew away and started up the stairs.

“Too bad they didn’t give you holes for your nipples.” Will called up. “You’d look a lot more natural and sexy that way.”

“Yeah, well…” Christine exited their bedroom tugging on a pair of ripped jeans and holding a belly shirt in her paw. “R rated movie, hon. Take it up with Lisa if you want me to make any changes when she gives this to me at the end of the shoot.” She looked up in surprise from the button she’d given up on fastening. “Wait, so you want me to put it on again?”

“Honey, I’d be ecstatic except for you being stuck. I like being able to get rid of the costume and feel your skin when things get hot. And that mask. I like kissing the real you.”

“Aw, thanks. Now go make dinner.”

“Alpha-“

“Finish that and I will totally bite you somewhere uncomfortable.” Christine warned him.

“By the way, I actually kind of like the teeth.” Will said from the kitchen.

“Really?” Christine asked as she settled in the love seat.

“Yeah. It makes kissing you feel dangerous.” He emerged with a pair of plates and a tray table.

“I’ll show you dangerous!” She said, growling and pretending to try to take one of the plates away from him in her mouth.

“I think you’d look adorable with just the teeth in. I also think the eyes are nice. Those two by themselves could be fun.” He said, poking one of her sharpened canines.

She rested her head on his shoulder as he sat next to her and he stroked her leg, playing with the fur sticking out of the holes in the jeans.

“So, Chrissy…” He nuzzled her hair, staying clear of the ears poking out.

“Yeah, hon?”

“How are you going to eat?”

Christine looked at her paws and opened her mouth. “I’m actually getting pretty good with these pads on.” She picked up a fork and easily got the food in without it touching the fur around her mouth. “See?” She said smugly, worrying at the next bit with her sharp dentures.

Will stroked the fur on her cheek. “Showoff. I was ready to be a good boyfriend and feed you.”

Christine snuggled into him, twisting to put her head on his chest and free her tail from the cushions. “You can be a good boyfriend other ways tonight.” She yawned as she took another bite, wagging half heartedly at the thought of them getting intimate. Unlike Will, the idea of going to bed with him while dressed as a werewolf made her warm inside.

Will rubbed her side. “Are you up for much? You said that was hot and it must be hard work at the studio.”

“Mmm…” Christine murmured, closing her eyes to enjoy his massage. “I think I’d like to sleep on the window side of the bed tonight.”

“Chrissy, it’s October. I was going to turn the heat on tonight.”

“Please…” Chrissy sighed. “I’ll be your extra blanket.”

“All right.” Will squeezed. “It’s probably for the best anyway. I’m not sure I could … well, I mean with you in that mask and I never had a thing for hair and …”

Christine kissed him lightly. “S’okay.” She yawned again and didn’t open her eyes again. A few minutes later Will gently guided her down onto his lap and shifted her so he could pick her up as he stood. He carried her upstairs to the bedroom and opened the window, setting her down on the bed near it. She immediately stretched out, hugged herself and started rolling around. At least, he thought as he burrowed down, she wouldn’t hog the covers.

He woke up with her sprawled out on top of him, providing a very effective extra layer against the cold of the room. With the black wig pooled around her head, the jeans and cutoff tee still on, and her face down in the covers, she looked almost normal. He had to admit that even with the mask she was really just a doggy, fuzzy version of herself and he resolved to make it up to her for the night before when she woke up. He sped the process by stroking her back until she stirred and then yelped when he tried to fondle her tail. “You can feel that?” He asked as she reached towards her face to scratch an itch, realized it was the glue holding her mask on, and forced herself to ignore the scratchiness of her mask as some of her skin shed while other parts were still glued on.

“Uh-huh.” She burrowed under the covers and pressed her nose against his belly and it was his turn to yell as the plastic cooled by a night in a room with the window open made contact. “Like that.” She said.

“Weird.” He said as she emerged.

“It helps with reactions.” She explained, blinking away the sleep and the soreness of keeping the contacts in all night. “How do you think I could do this?” She wagged the tail and then arched it over her back. “It’s in … deep.”

“Oh… but you can still –“

“Yeah, hon. Try not to think too hard about it.”

“No arguments here.” He sat up and ran his hand through her wig. “I think I’ll try that brushing now.”

“Yes!” She jumped up and came back with a thick brush, throwing the shirt aside in her excitement. “Gogogo!”

“Down, girl!” He started at the top and worked down her body, enjoying the very Christine arch of her back as it passed over her narrowing waist and flaring hips and the even higher arch when she rolled over and he made sure the little tuft between her boobs was tidy. “I’d better do this part by hand,” he said, pulling her jeans down and carefully working the knots out between her legs as she vocalized her pleasure. A pair of clawed paws pressed against the back of his head and he pressed his face between her thighs. Her smell hadn’t changed at all, but his first lick got a mouthful of fur and he sat up. “Sorry, Chrissy. I can’t get into it like this.”

Christine pouted, sitting up as well and hanging her head like a sad dog. “No?” She said in a small voice.

“Sorry.” He repeated. “I’ll get something to dry you off with.”

“What if you just close your eyes and let me-“ she began as he dabbed at her with a towel.

“Chrissy, no.” He said. “I wanted to be intimate, but I can’t get over this. Maybe if we’d talked about it before and I’d had some say. Like if it were a costume we’d bought for each other. But not a professional one. I’m sort of afraid of messing it up.” He finished lamely.

“Really?” She asked.

“No, I suppose not.” He sighed. “You look adorable, but I can’t get in stride when every place I touch is fuzzy. It doesn’t feel right. You move like you, sound like you, act like you. But you don’t feel like you or always look like you. It’s offputting.”

“All right, all right.” She said. “I’m not exactly going to force you, am I?” She got up. “I guess the fact I woke up in the clothes I feel asleep in should have been a sign. She kissed him on the forehead. “Your loss.” She teased, swinging her hips at him as she went into the bathroom.

“Yeah…” He said to himself after she closed the door. “I sort of think it might be.”

Harold met Christine on her way in. “Change of plans. We’re doing the big speech scene this morning and all the others are being moved to change number two along with part of the wardrobe montage. We want to show more passage of time before the general’s visit and how Tamsin is surprised but not very bothered by change number two. We’ll move the general’s visit to change two and Tamsin’s confession to change three.”

Christine resisted pinching her nose – which wouldn’t have worked anyway – and nodded shortly. “Right, right. So I get checked over and decked out by Lisa, speech scene and right back to Lisa for the second change.”

“Good girl.” Harold patted her on the back and hurried off towards the film studio as Christine turned to go to Lisa’s. “Oh, and we worked out a way to do a bit of lighting enhancement in post and everyone agreed that we could lower the thermostat.” He called over his shoulder.

“Looking good, ducks.” Lisa said as Christine walked in. “Shouldn’t need more than a little touching up and brush work.” Christine sat and in what felt like an incredibly short time Lisa had reapplied some of the adhesive and straightened out her fur, clucking over a loose claw on her foot and a wobbly paw pad. “Your face’ll have to wait,” she said when Christine mentioned the itch. “I’ll clean you off when you come back for the second mask, kay ducks? And don’t scratch!”

“Easy for you to say.” Christine grumbled, crossing her arms.

“Which one of us gets to be on magazine covers?” Lisa helped Christine into a leather chest harness and a belt with a leather panel front and back that covered exactly as much as was necessary to keep their rating. The panels and the center of the harness had green plastic circles with painted runes that would look like gold embossed gem stones on camera. Christine struggled for awhile with the bracers that had the same gem-like adornments until Lisa helped loosen and tighten the buckles. She tied pair of low heeled calf-strap sandals and sent Christine on her way.

“Stand back! Warrior princess coming through!” Jacob shouted as she came in.

Christine bared her teeth at him as he helped her up onto the stage. “This isn’t even your scene. Take a hike.”

“I have to stand behind you and look sinister.” Jacob reminded her. “Isn’t that right, Harry?”

The director nodded. “We thought it would add atmosphere. Besides, you have to do the scene right before this one next, so we may as well keep him here so he doesn’t run off.”

Christine stepped up onto the balcony set and turned a warning golden eye at Jacob. “Hands off the merchandise, buddy.”

Jacob raised his spread palms. “No touching happening here. Much as I’d love some time with that exquisite tail.” He added, waggling his eyebrows.

Christine wagged it in his face. “For my boyfriend and scenes where it’s integral to the plot.”

“Tease.”

“Lech.”

“Well, now you’ve established antagonism, let’s move on with the scene.” Harold said. “Five seconds!”

Christine took a deep breath of crisp air and remembered her character. She’d rehearsed this speech out of costume several times to get the feel of the rhythm. When she felt like she had it down, Queen Anaria opened her eyes and surveyed the imaginary group of loyal soldiers, retainers, and handpicked nobles that had gathered under the balcony of her suite to hear her speak. She summoned a smile for them and even raised her tail from between her legs where the stress of having to lie to all of them had put it. “My loyal subjects.” She said with a soft voice but loudly enough for them to hear, trying to keep the rumbling undertones steady. “I know that many of you have feared for me. I thank you, but as you can see I am unharmed.” She tapped her claws on the rail and smiled crookedly. “Relatively. I made this choice. I made it for the good of the kingdom and though many of you may have misgivings about your new ruler,” she shot a glance over her shoulder, pretending to forget that the boy prince was on her right and instead looked at Gyri, “know that I will remain to keep our traditions as the symbol of our people. As you can see, I am receiving the greatest honor an Althewean can hope for. I will become the legend, I will be your Gonwolf.” Her body shook and she hunched her shoulders, her tail hanging limp as she thought about what was to come and what she wished she could say. “It is a great sacrifice, but I am equal to the task I have been given the opportunity to embrace.” She closed her eyes and grasped the balcony rail as they turned on a fan to add a breeze to ruffle the longer fur on her body and face, though it would have looked more impressive in change two. She wished she could hold that pose and enjoy the air being blown over her, but pressed on with the speech. “Althwe is greater for the sacrifices of every man, woman and child who has supported us in our wars and in our prosperity. This is my gift to all of you, to be your protector in the best way I can be. Our enemies will see me and know our strength, our resolve. My subjects, weep not for the loss of your queen but celebrate the arrival of a beast of legend come forth to walk among you again. When the change is complete, you will have the great Gonwolf with you, protecting you and striking down our enemies.” She stood up straight and looked out past the keep wall. “Walk proudly, my subjects, for you shall have your queen beside you. I -” since the mask was going to come off soon anyway, she let a tear fall, “I thank you for all you have done. As long as you remain a good people, Althwe will be great and I will be the symbol of that nobility of spirit.” She turned and left, Nyriel stepping forward to say whatever he’d planned on to assure the assembly that their former queen would be safe and that he would try to emulate her sacrifice or something like that. All words put in his mouth by Gyri, who followed her in.

“Very good, your highness.” He said. “Even I was convinced of your sincerity. Of course I would never hazard your person in battle, fearsome though you may become.”

“No. I suppose you have already disposed of me politically, wizard. It makes no sense to lose your inspirational figurehead.” Anaria replied coldly, the rumbling undertone growing in strength as she snarled at him. “Now unless you wish to parade me in front of my subjects any further, I will be returning to my suite to change into something less ridiculous.” She swept past him and –

“Cut! Back to marks.” Harold called.

“What?” Christine asked, aggrieved at losing her momentum.

“You turned too fast the wrong way and flashed the camera.” Harold said.

“Oh come on!”

“It only has to last one frame and someone catches it.” Harold said apologetically. “You know how it is these days now that we’re doing about a billion fps.”

Christine tossed her head. “It’s not like there’s anything to see.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Chrissy.” Jacob grinned. “There’s a lot to see.”

“Most of it on display already.” Christine shot back. She stomped back to her mark and sighed as Lisa fussed with her wig and made sure her ears weren’t flopping. Then she brightened and her tail swept back and forth. “So the big speech scene went off?”

“Beautifully, honey.” Harold said. “Not a hitch.”

“I’m going to hold you to that next week.” She told him.

“Let’s not go crazy.” He smiled back at her. “All right, try to get back in character.”

Christine rolled her shoulders and used the leer Jacob gave her as a jumping off place for her outrage. She repeated the scene and made sure that her exit put more of her emoting in her tail and her face, working the mask hard to make the expressions she needed, and pushing her tail down at the very end just in case. Harold was satisfied and Christine jumped down and almost ran to the bedroom set. “I’m glad to see someone’s having fun,” Jacob said.

“I’m feeling a lot better.” Christine told him.

“You’re lucky my costume’s heavy or I’d be complaining about the cold.”

Christine put her paws on her hips as Jacob didn’t make a move to get up onto the set. “Oh no. I’m not letting you ‘help’ me up from down here.”

“Have a heart, Chrissy.” Jacob said. “I’ve never copped a feel of a wolf butt before.”

“Up!” Christine ordered and scrambled up herself without taking the offered hand. She was getting to her feet when the writer ran in. “Wait! Stay right there.” Christine remained her on her paws and knees as the screenwriter had a whispered conference with Harold and one of the producers. After a lot of arguing, Harold walked up to Christine. “All right, Kincaid had an idea and after a bit of wrangling I think it’s a good one. We’re going to have your character ‘trying out’ walking around on all fours and acting like a wolf for a few seconds before Jacob makes his entrance. We’d have Dinah up here to be supportive about it, but we’re short on time.”

“That reminds me. I’m no continuity expert,” Christine said, settling into a cross legged sit, “but how can we do the clothes montage with change two if I’m doing the speech in change one?”

Harold frowned and then shouted, “Kincaid!” The screenwriter ran over. “Tell him what you told me.”

Christine asked the question and Kincaid rolled his eyes. “I said move the montage to change two and bridge with change one’s speech.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Harold asked.

“Never mind.” Kincaid sighed. “You’d better put the speech back in change two.”

“Oh no! Christine performed brilliantly on that speech and we’re not making her do it again in another costume.”

“It would be a good backup.”

“No!”

“Tick tock, kids,” called a passing producer.

“New strat,” Kincaid said. “We put change two’s solicitude scene back in.”

“It’s going to be close.” Harold replied.

“When isn’t it?”

“Fine, fine. We’re going to lose half this in editing anyway. Back on your knees, Chrissy. Jacob, get ready to knock when I give the signal. Right, motivation curiosity and fatalism, go!”

“Wait!” Lisa jumped up on stage and took Christine’s armor off with a ‘you idiot’ look at Harold, handing the pile of leather to Jacob with a glance that warned him not to mess with it. “One less fit for the editors.”

“Can we get on with this?” Christine asked. “My hands are padded, but my knees aren’t.”

“Oh but to be behind you right now.” Jacob said.

“One more word and I’m docking you for harassment, Kinney,” one of the producers said.

“You know I’m not serious.”

“Don’t push your luck. Oh, and put a dress on Christine. We can’t risk-”

“Yeah, yeah.” Lisa produced one of the skirt/top ensembles from the clothing montage and helped Christine into it.

“I’m not bending over again until I know we’re ready.”

“We’re ready! We’re ready! God damn, but we’re ready!” Harold said. “Go for it with whatever’s left of your concentration.”

Christine took a deep breath, silently thanking Lisa for putting enough give in the body suit of her costume that the her furry skin expanded and contracted naturally. She decided that with all the distractions that had broken her train she was going to take the whole thing slow and get into character and maybe give the editors some extra scene to play with. Queen Anaria stood, able to consider her new body privately in a way she’d never do in public. She touched her tail, wincing at how it twitched and how she could feel it now. She looked in the mirror, baring her teeth to examine and flexing her paws. She swished her skirt and looked down, thinking. Slowly, reluctantly, she sank to her knees and put her paws on the ground, looking like she was thinking about something weighty. Like how this would be her permanent perspective soon. She shuffled around, looking at her lupine face in the mirror. She growled at herself, whined, howled softly. It was as much herself as her character acting as she dwelt on her next couple of costume changes. The knock took Christine by surprise as much as her character and she jumped to her feet guiltily, checking to make sure there wasn’t dust on her skirt before she opened the door.

“Ah, your highness!” Gyri said, effusive in his victory over the queen. “Are you ready to speak to your loyal retainers?”

“If I must lie in order to save their lives, that is what I will do.” Queen Anaria said archly. “You need not take so much pleasure in your victory.”

“Your highness!” Gyri replied. “I am merely expressing how much I appreciate your wisdom.” He stepped back and frowned, his eyes roaming over her body. A little too much, Christine thought, as she glared at him. “Well?” Both she and the queen asked.

“That dress. It won’t do.”

“Am I to appear naked?” Queen Anaria asked. “I will countenance much, but I will not be paraded to show every inch of my cursed form.”

“Of course not,” Gyri assured her. “I would never affront your dignity so. Even when you are fully changed, you will be garbed as befits the Gonwolf. As you ought to be now.” He presented the pile of armor Lisa had handed him before the scene began. “This armor was made in the image of what your artists show the Gonwolf wearing. Made for someone transitioning between human and beast, of course.”

Anaria looked disgusted as she held up the skimpy armor, made to look like the war harness of the wolf. “I will not wear this abomination.”

“Then you will not speak.” Gyri said.

Anaria growled and pulled her upper lip back. “Leave me! Send in my maid to help me dress.”

“As you wish, highness.” Gyri sketched an all too short bow and left.

“Hold position! Dinah? Where’s Dinah? Oh, you’re so quiet, dear. Up you go then.” Dinah leapt up onto the set seemingly without effort and took her place behind the door. “All right, scene continues. And remember to be careful about what is showing to which camera, Chrissy!”

“Your highness?” Tamsin knocked softly as she opened the door. “I was right outside. Is there a problem?”

Anaria looked for a moment at her maid and then shook her head quickly. “No, my dear. A simple argument over propriety. I must reluctantly agree with the sorcerer that I should dress the part when in public, even though I have yet to go into the advanced stages of my afflic – my new condition.”

Tamsin looked like she wanted to say something, but then nodded and smiled at her queen. She picked up the chest harness. “It is pretty even if there is so little of it. You will look as regal in this as anything else. Like Queen Demetria who led her army into battle.”

“Demetria.” Anaria said. Her eyes softened. “I am honored to be compared to such a courageous woman. Thank you.” She let her paw rest on Tamsin’s hand for a little longer than was proper before turning her back to her maid. “Let us prepare.”

Tamsin picked at the ties on Anaria’s blouse, Dinah momentarily having difficulty with the knots Lisa had made. “Your bravery is the talk of the castle, highness.”

“They do me too much honor.” Anaria said, rolling her shoulders to help her maid remove the blouse. Christine’s training kept her from showing her relief at Harold not interfering there. She was positioned correctly this time, thank goodness.

“You’re giving up your humanity for them, ma’am. There is no greater honor they can give than to praise that every day.”

Anaria let another tear fall, making sure Tamsin couldn’t see as she undid the skirt and helped her queen out of it. This was a tricky shot and three cameras had been set up. They wanted to show the entirety of Christine’s bare brown furry back, her tail and a generous amount of PG-13 (thank goodness this didn’t count technically as nudity) curve. The problem of course being that since this was a ‘live-in’ costume, there was the matter of the sometimes hidden sometimes not labial lips covered by shaggy fur and the fact that her nipples stood out under the fabric. So they had several angles to pick from in post. “Annie.” She said quietly.

“Ma’am?” Tamsin buckled the chest harness around Anaria. Christine didn’t have to manufacture a wince as Dinah accidentally pulled one of the straps so it was too tight over her fur covered bosom.

“Call me Annie … Tammy. I won’t be able to speak soon and I would like at least one person to know they can be familiar with me before I cannot give permission anymore.”

“Your – Annie… Thank you.” Tamsin buckled the belted loin piece as Anaria slipped on the bracers and knelt to tie up her sandals.

“You’re my only ser … friend as I make this transition, Tammy.” Anaria said. “You will be named my companion when I am fully Gonwolf. I will make sure that the title comes with at least a barony.”

“You … you are too generous, ma – Annie.” Tamsin stepped back and let Anaria look at herself in the mirror.

It was Christine’s first time getting to really see how the costume looked on her wolf body and as the lupine queen twisted to look and tweaked the leather armor, Christine checked herself out. It was a good look for her, she thought. The colors and cut complimented her well and turned the cute wolf girl into an exotic warrior woman. Twitching her black nose and letting her tail swing a couple of times, queen Anaria sniffed, “It’s absolutely appalling, but it will have to do.”

“I think you look very noble, Annie.” Tamsin ventured.

Christine agreed but her character had to act more aloof. “I am nearly naked, Tammy. But I suppose I must accustom myself to this sort of attire. I will be wearing even less when I am fully changed.” Christine wished it was the sort of movie where she could feel herself up since that was really something Anaria would do, framing it as adjusting her harness and checking her belt – and she really did want to adjust the harness because it was too tight. This had to pass the MPAA, though, so as directed she said goodbye to Tamsin and walked off to join Gyri on the balcony in the scene she’d just done.

The moment she was off camera, she reached for the buckles but Lisa was quicker. “Better, ducks?” She asked after fixing the length of Christine’s girth.

“Much, thanks.” Christine said. “It doesn’t really matter, though, does it? Since we’re going to be doing the second change now.”

“They want to take a couple of publicity pics, ducks.” Lisa said.

Christine shook her head. “Of course.” She brushed back a lock of hair. “Are my ears good?”

“Everything’s perfectly in place. They’re waiting.”

Christine tried to have fun with the standard poses, letting her teeth show when half crouched with her claws out, trying to look as regal as possible in the side on shot with her looking out into the distance, and ending up accidentally doing a set of combatitive shots with Jacob after she took some swipes at him during the cast photo. Then Lisa whisked her to the makeup room. “Scheduling note,” Harold said, poking his head in before they could start anything. “We’re doing lunch in about an hour so we won’t need you in full costume until about an hour after that.”

Christine looked pleadingly at Lisa. “Please?”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “All right, ducks. I’ll do what I can.” She snipped the threads on Christine’s paws and feet and the actress sighed in contentment at having the skin bare again. The second change required a different set of both, so Lisa left them off as she went to work with a pad and solvent removing the mask. Christine closed her eyes blissfully as inches of cheek and forehead were caressed by the light breeze from the window. Lisa had left it open for her, opting to wear a sweater in her studio.

Rather than let her canvas wash herself, Lisa rubbed Christine’s face and hands with a damp cloth, removing the last of the glue and leaving the actress feeling refreshed. “Up we get, ducks,” she said after thoroughly cleansing Christine.

“What about the wig?” Christine stroked her wolf ears.

Lisa shook her head. “That stays until change three.”

Christine shrugged and stood. She’d gotten more from the soft hearted makeup artist than she’d expected. She raised her arms and Lisa called Linsey over to help stretch a fur covered elastic backed garment over her arms and torso and then step into a similarly stretchy set of fur pants. The augmentations were made to let the fur of the bodysuit come through and add length, making her shaggier all over. To offset the loss of some of her curves, the fur was thicker around her hips and bust. She shook herself out at Lisa’s request, fluffing the fur and making it sit evenly. Christine buried her face in her arm, feeling the softness that the camera wouldn’t be able to convey. “I’m a cute lil fluffy dog.” She sighed.

“Hold that warm feeling.” Lisa said, and briskly tore out her tail. Christine leapt almost a foot in the air and rubbed her backside. “Did you really have to do that now?”

Lisa held up the short tail. “If you want to keep your gloves and mask off during lunch I have to get everything I can done before then.” She selected a longer, furrier tail and Christine braced herself as the cold metal beads replaced the familiar warm ones that had just been taken out. She bent and gave her new appendage and experimental wag, curled it, and made it tuck between her legs. “I can put even more emotion into this one,” she said, making it stand out and vibrating the very end.

“You have all of lunch to practice,” Lisa said. “Now scoot, ducks. The sooner you eat, the longer I’ll have to get you ready.”

“Lovely.” Christine replied, but she gave Lisa a little wag to show she didn’t take it personally.

“And stay clean!” Lisa called after her, earning another swing of Christine’s tail.

Chrissy noticed a couple of people watching her pass and swung her tail a little more in time with her hips, showing off her longer fur. “It’s a good look for you, Chrissy!” Arnie called. Arnie was playing an officer who never directly interacted with Christine’s character. Chrissy grinned back and wagged her tail.

She sat down with her tray in the commissary and a moment later Dinah sat next to her. “All right, this is totally unfair.” She smiled. “With just that body suit on, you’re probably the cutest thing in the world.”

Christine saw Dinah’s hand moving toward her and smiled back at the actress. “Dy, I know what you’re thinking.” Dinah blushed and Christine turned, holding her arms out. “Come on.”

Dinah squealed and almost bowled Christine over. “I could hug you all day.” She said, resting her cheek on Christine’s shoulder.

“Save it for the budding affection scene.” Harold said as he passed.

“Why don’t I get one?” Jacob commented to Harold.

“Because Dinah’s a lot cuter than you are.” Christine stuck out her tongue, remembering for the first time that Lisa hadn’t taken the dentures or contacts out and she still have a wolfish air to her.

“Don’t tempt me, dear.” Jacob said, continuing on his way.

“Can you tell my agent that?” Dinah said.

“Hmm?” Christine grunted, tearing her attention away from Jacob.

“That I’m cute.”

“Oh, honey, I’m sure he knows that. He has eyes, doesn’t he?” Christine rubbed Dinah’s back. “What’s really wrong?”

Dinah looked up at Christine, still holding her. “I broke up this morning.” She murmured.

“Oh, honey!” Christine hugged her tightly. “You were doing so well in the shoot; I never realized.”

“I haven’t told anyone else yet.” Dinah replied, tears gathering in her eyes. “I was afraid they’d send me home and I’d lose the part.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Christine held her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Will you be OK for the day?”

“Yeah.” Dinah nodded.

“Good. Then after the shoot we – oh rats. I can’t go out for drinks dressed like this, can I?”

Dinah giggled. “I think the producers wouldn’t be happy with you.”

“That’s the right attitude.” Christine wagged her tail. “How about you come home with me and Will and we can have a night in.”

“Won’t Will mind? I don’t want to stop you-“

“Honey, we aren’t doing anything while I’m in this costume.” Christine said. “It seems like Will’s the only man in the world who isn’t turned on by it.”

Dinah’s tears dried up. “Men, huh?”

“Damn right.” Christine said. “I guess Will just isn’t a dog person.”

“He should see what it’s like.” Dinah said. “That’s why Gary broke up. He said I spent too much time in the studio.”

“Jerk. Can’t handle a career woman.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Better to find it out now.”

“That gives me an idea, though.” Christine broke out in a fit of giggles. “I’ll have to check with Lisa.” She finished her lunch and got up. “You all right?”

“Sure, I’m fine. Thanks, Chrissy.”

“Any time, Dy.” Dinah got up and hugged Christine one more time before they parted. Dinah to do a scene and Christine for makeup. Unlike Christine, Dinah was an extra in several places to make extra money. She was a nice girl. Christine made a mental resolution to see if she could help her.

Lisa was ready and with Linseys help on sewing she had her new paws with the thicker pads and longer claws on in a few minutes, followed by the longer, leaner feet. “Walk.” Lisa said and Christine acclimatized herself to the long lupine feet. When Lisa was satisfied that Christine wasn’t going to trip and could walk without the feet flopping, it was time to lay back and let her go to work. The mask was similar the previous prosthetics but with longer fur and thicker rubber bone structure, removing some of her ability to express with her face by adding stiff lines to her jaw that ran up her cheek and added depth around her eyes. Instead of molding over her nose there was a short muzzle, though her lips were still covered with the same black canine split lip. When the nose went on, Lisa ran a pair of tubes up the nostrils and actually nodded with satisfaction when Christine sneezed. “I felt that, ducks. It looks like you’re getting air.”

Christine rubbed it with a thickly padded paw. “It feels weird. What’s the sticky stuff on the inside?”

“Check the mirror.” Lisa said proudly. Christine got up and looked and Lisa said, “flare your nostrils.”

“Oh, this is so amazing,” Christine gushed when the nostrils widened. She looked down her muzzle cross eyed. “I still look attractive, I think,” she said judiciously.

“You’re still our puppy.” Lisa assured her. “I actually made that muzzle using pictures from wolf pups. I thought it would be a good transition to have you start out with puppy parts and move on to adult ones in the later changes.”

Christine flopped her paw. “It doesn’t work so well here. It’s cute, but…” she flexed her fingers and showed how the padding interfered. “I’m losing a lot of grip.”

“You knew you’d need help when you started.”

Christine twisted and admired how the longer fur flowed over the paws and feet, and up her neck along the mask into fluffy cheeks. As she was looking, Lisa picked up a pair of ears. “I almost forgot.” She slid the larger ears – which were partly hollow – over the existing ones on the wig. “Instant lupine enhancement.”

“I thought they were a little out of proportion.” Christine concentrated and succeeded in brushing Lisa’s hand with her tail. “I love it. Not as cute as before, but I like the feral look. Oh, speaking of looking good,” she glanced around. “I have an idea.” She couldn’t quite whisper in Lisa’s ear since it ended up with her muzzle pressed to Lisa’s head and Christine’s mouth still four inches away, but she was able to speak quietly and outline what she wanted.

“Ooh, naughty ducky.” Lisa smiled. “Be a good dog this week and I’ll see what I can rustle up.”

“Yes!” Christine hugged Lisa, who said, “Mind your costume!” And immediately produced a brush to fix Christine’s fur. “Speaking of which, if you start feeling really backed up I have a few things I could let you borrow. The costume’s made to be lived in, so they’d go right in.”

Christine rubbed a claw self consciously over the long fur between her legs. “I might have to.”

“Though cleaning you afterward would be a pain.” Lisa murmured to herself and earned a swat with Christine’s tail.

“I’d better get on set.” Christine pretended to wipe her forehead. “This extra fur’s already warming me up.” She pressed her nose to Lisa’s cheek in lieu of a kiss and skipped out.

“Solicitude scene,” Harold said as she came in. “Dinah’s already up for a change.”

“I remember.” Christine told him, letting Dinah pull her up. Dinah took her place on the other side of the bedroom door and Christine lay down in the bed.

“Why aren’t you lying flat?” Harold asked as she shifted to her side.

“Because I have a whacking great tail sticking out of my ass.” Christine told him. “You wanted things to look natural, so I’m going to have to lie down in a way that makes sense for my character’s anatomy.”

“All right. Just as long as you can toss and turn.”

“What about fetal?” Christine asked, sitting up and putting her paws between her knees so she could bend to look at Harold. “Instead of turning in pain, I curl up. It’s more animal.”

“That could work. Go for it and if we don’t like the look, we’ll fix it in next week’s wrap-up.”

Christine settled back down and when the signal came, she tucked her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around herself rocking in simulated pain. She grit her teeth and screwed up her eyes, her moans turning into deep growls – or they would in post. From here on out all of her lines were going to have a lot of editing done on the sound. There’d been talk of some sort of choker or something to add it in studio, but eventually Lisa convinced them it would ruin the lines of the mask and the sound department said it would actually be easier on them to put growls and deepen her tone themselves rather than rely on a gadget that might ruin things totally. The animation for this scene would also be quicker and less showy than the first since she was mostly under a thick quilt. A few shots of the quilt distending with her longer feet and tail, a shot of her muzzle growing and that would be it.

She put all of her effort into sinking into the simulated pain until she felt the hand on her shoulder and suddenly straightened her entire body and grabbed the hand with her paw, growling at the nightgown clad wisp of a girl at her bedside.

Tamsin squeaked at being so roughly handled. “Your highness. Annie! It’s all right. Shhh.” She held her transfigured queen’s face, stroking the muzzle that had just grown out of her. “It’s all right,” she crooned, pressing Anaria’s face to her shoulder. Christine almost laughed at the complete reversal from off camera and turned them to sobs as Tamsin stroked Anaria’s hair. The lights grew to ‘dawn’, revealing the extent of Anaria’s change to Tamsin – and the camera. “Oh dear, your highness.” Tamsin said, dismay making her fall back on protocol.

“Am I that hideous?” Anaria asked morosely.

“No. But we shall have to send down for a more robust brush.”

Anaria laughed and let Tamsin arrange her so that she could see the best of herself in the mirror, putting her in a loose green blouse and a blue skirt in a gypsy-styled color combination. Anaria swished her tail as she examined herself. “It’s not so bad as I thought it would be,” she said, smiling. She’d gotten used to her new teeth and didn’t even draw back at the prominent canines. She flared her nostrils and stood up straight. “It is a shame that the magic seems to have focused itself on my extremities,” she said at last. “These feet… and I can barely hold anything now.”

Tamsin took her paw. “I’ll help you, Annie.”

“Thank you, Tammy.” Anaria said. She sat on the bed and pulled Tamsin down with her. “I feel like I need something to take my mind off the changes. Tell me a story about Queen Demetria. I’ve read her history in the library, but I know that the stories told in the families of those who live here-“

“Servants, ma’am.” Tamsin said.

“I don’t think of you as a servant.” Anaria replied softly. Putting a claw to Tamsin’s lips, she continued. “Your families have stories about us. I know Demetria had some very good ones attached to her.”

“There’s the tragedy of her and her court Magus, Nikolo.” Tamsin said eventually. “Doomed to be kept apart for they loved each other but the kiss of true love breaks all enchantments, even to ending the lives of those who use them. It’s said that is why all who practice the arcane arts are so lonely and often go to evil. They can never know love but at a distance for fear that the first tender kiss will be deadly.”

“Cut. Editing goes to flashback and then to end of scene. Anaria asleep and Tamsin tucking her in.” Harold called. Christine put her head on Dinah’s shoulder and Dinah wrapped her arm around Christine’s waist.

It was still early, but Anaria had spent the night in pain and was tired. As Tamsin ended her story, she found her queen’s eyes were closed and her head was on Tamsin’s shoulder. Her nostrils flared at regular intervals with her breath and her tail twitched in uneasy dreams. Tamsin stroked her long black hair and fingered the soft brown fur of her body. “You are truly beautiful … Annie.” She said.

Tamsin gently laid Anaria down and undressed her, pulling the covers over her body as the queen turned in her sleep to free her restless tail. Tamsin smoothed back her hair and held her hand over an ear before letting it fall. She bent low, her lips almost brushing Anaria’s short muzzle. Then the lights went up and Christine opened her eyes. “Good?” She asked Harold as she sat up and Dinah shifted to make room.

“Beautiful, girls.” Harold replied. “Take a few minutes and then we’ll do the general’s visit.”

Christine kicked off the covers and went to sit with her legs dangling from the set. Dinah hung down over the side and scooped a jacket off a chair next to the set. “Is it that cold?” Christine asked as Dinah sat next to her.

Dinah nodded. “Uh-huh. This thin thing,” she picked at the nightgown, “isn’t enough.”

“I’m so hot.” Christine sighed, lying back and putting her paws behind her head.

Dinah jumped off and ran back a minute later with a tall cup. “Drink, my queen?” She asked, putting a straw in the cup.

“You’re a life saver, hon.” Christine replied, sitting and taking a deep drag from the straw. She opened her arms to Dinah, who didn’t need any more encouragement to enter her warm embrace.

“That had better be water.” Lisa admonished as she joined them. She began brushing Christine’s wig. “You need to stay properly hydrated.”

“It is, mother.” Christine told her.

“I talked to Harold and they’re trying to convince the union to lower the temperature another couple degrees when you do the third costume tomorrow. I really don’t know what we’re going to do about number four.”

Burrowed deeper into Christine’s fur and shivered. “It’s getting pretty hard to carry on already.”

“And she’s feeling exactly the opposite.” Lisa said.

“I can speak for myself.” Christine said.

“Sure you can, ducks.” Lisa moved around behind Christine and took the brush to her back fur. Christine wagged her tail at the massage and put her paws on the floor so she could arch her back against the brush.

“Don’t you have a boyfriend to do that?” Jacob asked, resting his arms on the set floor.

“My domestic arrangements are none of your business, Kinney.” Christine said. “Scram.”

“He was a lot easier to work with before I started wearing fur.” Christine said as Jacob laughed and retreated to a safe distance.

“Maybe he has a fetish.” Lisa said. She began buckling the rhinestone covered harness back onto Christine’s body.

Dinah blushed. “Lisa!”

“What? It’s a valid observation. Some guys like a bit of wildness, something exotic. Christine’s a sexy pup, not to toot my own horn too much.”

Christine gave Lisa a thwack with her tail. “Go ahead. You’re a miracle worker.” She stood and stretched, wagging her tail at the whistles. “I’d better get to the conference room set. I’m sure Harold’s on edge to get this one over with.” One her way across the studio floor, she passed Jacob. “Hey, Kinney.” She said.

“Yes?”

Christine smiled, showing all her sharp teeth and then swayed her tail. “If you and your lady need to spice things up, I’m sure Lisa gives good rates.”

Jacob bowed low. “You see straight to my innermost core, Chrissy.”

“It’s not hard when you wear your ardor on your sleeve.” She riposted. She continued on her way, making sure to take mincing steps and sway her tail extra slow for Jacob. It was nice for all the work she and Lisa did to be appreciated, she thought. Then she snorted, her nostrils going extra wide. Not even forty-eight hours and she was already letting her lack of sex with Will get the better of her. She’d have to take Lisa up on her offer for sure.

Still feeling frisky, she took a running leap up onto the set and could almost feel the wind of the necks of her co-stars snapping as the men all watched the jump make her barely constrained brown furred chest bounce. Sauntering to the head of the long table, she took her mark – bending over with her tail high in the air and her claws tapping the table – and waited for Harold to give the signal.

An establishing shot of the outside of the castle with Anaria’s voice echoing in the war room. Cuts to inside after approximately two seconds. “That, gentlemen, is the situation as I see it.” Anaria said, resting her paws on the table as she bends over a parchment. “I know there is a clamor to see that I am safe, but it would be foolish to risk me collapsing in the middle of an appearance and altering form in front of half the kingdom. I know that the court mage and I are often in disagreement, but there we are in absolute harmony. It would cause irreparable harm for me to be seen changing shape. Far more than if I wait until I am fully transitioned into the Gonwolf to first appear.” She took her seat and rolled up the note from Governor Arkadi, tossing it into the center of the table to let the others look.

“Your maje – your highness,” General Aradun said, glancing at the crowned teenage boy who was looking nervously around and not making eye contact with anyone else in the room. “Anaria,” he fell back on the familiarity they’d had since she was a little girl and he was a colonel tasked with overseeing the castle’s garrison. “If you disappear completely now and a creature – no matter its resemblance to the paintings or our assurances it’s you – walks out by our side, many will refuse to believe. They must see you now, before you become …”

“Inhuman?” Anaria asked, her tail swishing with amusement through the back of the chair.

“Unrecognizable from a distance.” Aradun said kindly. “Right now, people will believe if you make a public appearance. Not just to retainers, but to anyone who wishes to gather and see. It is far easier for them to accept if they can see you halfway through, hear your voice before it is silenced. It would also inspire our troops if you did an inspection in your current form. Remind them that we all sacrifice something.”

Anaria stood, her harness sparkling in the simulated morning sun, and went to the window. “I don’t feel comfortable doing that.” She said huskily, her growl making the words even more emotional.

“Why?” Aradun asked, joining her as the others cleared their throats and proceeded to military matters.

“I – I’d rather not talk about it.” Anaria replied, not quite meeting Aradun’s gaze.

“My queen –“

“I’m not your queen, Martin.” Anaria said, resting her paw on his hand. “Not any more.” She shook her head, her hair spilling more evenly over her shoulders. “The soldiers only. No one else.”

General Aradun stared at her for a moment, his eyes searching for something in hers. “Thank you, Anaria.” He bowed and went back to the table.

“Marks for King’s confrontation,” Harold called. Marty Stokes, the young man who was hoping this part would be his big break, went out the door into a small ‘hallway’ set. Christine stood on the other side until the signal and then went through.

Nyriel was waiting for Anaria as she left the war room. “Wasn’t that just touching?” He snarled. “Even looking like an oversized mongrel they love you.”

“Yes.” Anaria said, sounding completely calm. “I worked hard for them and didn’t abuse my power. Now I’m sacrificing my humanity to help the transition. Were you expecting them to fall on their knees and worship you the moment you walked in? You’re not even the real ruler and they know it even if they won’t say anything to you.” Anaria shrugged. “But this isn’t about me. It’s about Gyri. So go whine to him if you’re feeling emasculated.”

Nyriel glared at her. “You’re not even doing it by choice. They love you for a lie.”

“No, child, they loved me first. It’s not even a lie, really. If I didn’t do this, most of them would have been executed.” Her tone didn’t change as she grabbed his throat. “Remember, young prince, that you are only a somewhat more convenient excuse than another member of your family. Gyri can always find more lackwitted nobles to warm the throne while he did the real work.” She pressed Nyriel against the wall and bared her teeth. “I’m not really in a very patient frame of mind right now and it would please me to annoy the sorcerer by killing you.” She let him fall and wagged her tail. “I think you’re more spoiled than evil. Learn from this.” She turned her back on him and the lights came up. “Good?” She asked Harold.

“We could use a bit more toothiness in the threat. Also, I’m not positive about the wag at the end. Oh, and Marty lost it when you grabbed him. I saw him smile for a moment.” Harold told her.

“If I showed any more teeth they’d fall out.” Christine told him. “If you want teeth, go hire Russell Brand.”

“I had to smile! Some of her fur tickled my neck.” Marty added.

“Back to marks and do the scene over. We can salvage most of the angles, but I want to be sure.”

Christine squeezed Marty’s shoulder. “You’re doing pretty well, though.”

“Thanks, Ms. Kingsley.” He smiled shyly.

“Chrissy.” She insisted. She brushed him with her tail as she went back through the door and let him think he got away with petting it without her noticing. She’d gotten good at hiding the fact she felt every touch and breeze on it.
On her way out, Christine saw Dinah go by. “Thanks for the help.” She said, putting her hand on Christine’s shoulder. “I think you need some time with Will and I’ll be OK on my own. We can have those drinks to celebrate the end of shooting.” They hugged and Christine continued back to the costume room.

Christine was feeling very accomplished as she donned the previous day’s disguise. The bandana now stuck out a little and the shawl couldn’t quite hide the points of her ears, but with Will helping to cover her, she wasn’t worried. He was facing the stage door when she exited and she had to giggle at his obvious wariness of being stalked again. She threw her arms around him and pressed her muzzle to his ear. “You’ll have to work to kiss me today.” She said.

He smiled weakly and put his arm around her waist, snaking his hand under her sweater. “You’re even shaggier today.” He said as he took her out to the car.

She waited for him to slide in next to her and freed her tail to wag it. “Everything’s longer today.” She tapped his pants. “I hope.”

“You wish.” They sat in silence for a few minutes and then he squeezed her knee. “I guess I’ll have to wear a hat to bed.”

“You could always sleep right up close to me,” she replied, pressing his hand to her chest. “Feel that.”

“You are one hot critter.” He agreed.

“Still not interested, huh?”

Will shrugged and looked guilty. “No. I told you I like the teeth and the eyes, but the rest of it just isn’t my thing.”

“So you’d rather if I’d gotten a part as succubus, maybe?” She replied, smiling widely. Sharp teeth, weird eyes, but only little horns, a pair of wings and a tail.

“I wouldn’t say no if you took that home with you.” He said.

“You’re so shallow.” She kicked him in the shin.

“Hey!” He said, grinning back. “At least I’m honest.”

“Don’t be surprised if you get replaced by a battery operated boyfriend, then.”

“Looks like a night with Rosie Palms for me.”

Christine let him help her out of the car and shed her clothing the moment the door was closed. “I’m not even trying to put anything on over this.” She said.

“It doesn’t seem as necessary anyway.” Will agreed. “Leftovers?”

“Fine by me.” Christine sat down and dozed as he fixed dinner. She woke up when Will sat down and squeezed her thigh. “Hey, Chrissy.”

Christine wagged her tail slowly and snuggled up to Will. “Hey, hon.” She rubbed his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” Will put his arm around her. “I keep trying to be good about this, but I just can’t seem to keep my mouth shut.”

“No, it’s OK.” Christine said. “It’s not like you haven’t said it before. I can’t make you like my new look and it does get in the way.” She tried to pick up a fork to take some of the lasagna off the plate, but she kept losing her grip with the large paw pads getting in her way. Will gently took the fork from her and took a piece out to her. She tipped her muzzle up and grabbed the bite with her teeth. “Thanks, hon.”

Will rubbed her side. “No problem, Chrissy. I want to help, I want to support you. I just can’t get it up when you look and feel like this.”

“You never had a cuddly stuffed animal when you were a kid?” She asked, letting him continue to feed her.

“Well, yeah, but …” He laughed. “I didn’t cuddle it that way.” He kept hugging her and feeding her, feeling the exhaustion in her body. “I know you need to work some of the passion out after a day of acting. If you really need to use the vibrator, go for it. I’ll even hold it for you.”

Christine licked his cheek. “You’re sweet. I’ll just have to hold it all in until this weekend.” She growled at him and dug her claws into his chest. “But when I’m out of this costume, you are going to get a week of bonking all at once, so you’d better rest up and get plenty of vitamins.”

“Speaking of which, sort of not,” Will said. “How’s the movie been going?”

“Really well!” Christine said. “I’ve been nailing it almost every scene.” She wagged her tail. “At this rate I’ll be done early.”

Will massaged her shoulders and she leaned in to his touch. “That’s good.”

“It’s a really silly plot, though.” Christine murmured. “I think there’s supposed to be some sort of curse that kills people who I tell about it, but they made it sound more like the villain just executes them. Honestly I’m not very impressed with the writing. I’m thinking this is going to be one of those movies that’s just a vehicle for a lot of battle scenes and me looking pretty.”

“That’s really too bad.” Will said. “You get all dressed up and they fall down on the writing.”

“Yeah, really.” Christine agreed. “What a waste. Not just me and Lisa, but all those animators and Harold and the other actors.” She curled up and opened her mouth to get another bite from Will. “Maybe it’ll be popular anyway. It’s just kitchy enough."

After dinner she followed him up to bed under her own power and was half asleep by the time he’d bathed and changed to pajamas. When he got into bed, she sleepily grabbed his hand before he pulled the covers on and flopped down on top of him. “You won’t be cold tonight,” she promised, curling up around him. Despite the window being opened, he had to agree that having a hot wolf was better than a blanket and though he was still not really interested in her sexually, he appreciated how warm and soft she was and she sighed in contentment and wagged her tail as he held her close.