A Simple Shoot.txt
A Simple Shoot
Oi! This is an adult and poorly written story. If you have problems with diapers, watersports, (mild) scat, intentionally inflicted brain damage, or awful formatting and writing, this story might not be for you!
~ Locke
"Alright, Jenn, relax..." the young, 19 year old brown and white border collie nervously murmured to herself, soft-padded fingers fussing with the hem of her blouse. "No big deal. Just a photo shoot, right?" she continued, glancing up at the plate glass double doors that separated her from the lobby of her prospective work place. Despite the assurances she kept giving herself, the dog's bare digitigrade feet stayed firmly planted on the concrete below her. Frustrated with her own indecisiveness, Jennifer's ear quirked back and, with a quick adjustment to her snug jeans' waistline, she forced herself to walk up the steps. "No big deal. Just go in, have some pictures taken, go back home." the distracted dog whispered, her own momentum the only thing keeping her from hesitating again at the door.
Jenn let out a nervous but relieved sigh as the cool, circulated air of the office building blew past her, carrying with it the crisp and distinct smell of fresh paint only faintly masked by some kind of flowery air freshener. She peered around the lobby silently, surprised to find only herself and a female otter, sitting behind the desk. "Well, at least I won't have to wait..." Jenn thought to herself as she slowly, reluctantly stepped up to the desk, wearing her best smile in the hopes of making a good impression.
"Hi, my name is..." Jenn began cheerfully, but she was cut off by the smiling otter behind the desk, who looked up from her computer to finish for the collie.
"Jennifer Thomas?" the otter asked, to which the collie could only nervously shake her head, her confident momentum already broken. "Good Morning, Jennifer. Right on time, Mr. Evans is waiting in studio 3, down this hall to my right." that otter cheerfully instructed, pointing down a hallway on the side of the lobby, before returning to her business without waiting for a word.
"Oh, I, um.. Thank you?" Jennifer clumsily stammered, swallowing hard as she followed the otter's webbed finger to the indicated hallway, giving one last look to the whiskered secretary before walking down the hallway.
"Some adult I am," she silently berated herself as she walked down the hall, muzzle pointed to the firm, short-pile carpetting under her paws while she eyed each door, looking for studio three. Finding her destination a short way down the hall, she gave herself one last primping to make sure her hair is just right before she pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The scent of air freshener strengthened significantly, making the timid collie's nose twitch as she entered and let the door shut behind her, dull domestic canine claws clacking on the sealed hardwood beneath her. It was a rather modest room for a photo studio she noted as her eyes wandered, taking in the dull grey paint on the walls and the roll of various backdrops positioned near the ceiling against the rear wall, the stool in the middle of the room atop some type of pad - and finally, her gaze landed upon a distracted looking german shepherd, busily adjusting his camera. Clearing her throat, the young woman spoke up to get his attention.
"M... Mister Evans?" Jennifer shyly woofed, straightening herself up upon remembering she's supposed to be a confident young adult!
The thirty-something shepherd looked up from his camera, ears perked and faintly scruffy tail giving a couple perky wags from side to side. "Oh! Hi, you must be, uh.." he trailed off, brow furrowing lightly as he snaps his fingers a couple times as if it'd jog his memory. "Oh, Jennifer! Jennifer Thomas, right? You're here to audition for the modelling position?" he asked, brushing his bangs from his forehead with a padded paw.
With a little nod, the collie woofed, "Yes sir, that's me! I saw your ad in the paper and my parents were nudging me into getting a job, so..." she trailed off with a little shrug.
"Good old classifieds," the shepherd barked with a goofy grin, looking back to his camera and adjusting it. "Well, excellent. You're right on time. Would you take a seat on that stool for me, Jennifer?" he asked with a cheerful bark, pulling a pair of polarized sunglasses from atop the camera and slipping them over his eyes.
Hesitating, Jennifer watching the other dog prepare the camera a moment before she gave her head a little shake and moved to the stool in the center of the room. "Well, that didn't take very long!" she thought to herself, turning and taking a careful seat on the stool, making sure to face the camera and sit up nice and straight. Only then did she notice how strange the camera really was. Most of it seemed rather ordinary, but the flash seemed downright enormous compared to the ones she'd seen before. "Must be what professional studios use..." she mused to herself, as the wolf adjusted the camera and lined it up on her.
"Just relax, Jennifer, you've definitely got the look, so don't worry about that," the shepherd assures her, suggesting, "Just try to look natural!" The border collie gulped, shifting a little in her seat to slip into what she hopes is a more relaxed position, another nervous smile crossing her muzzle as she poses awkwardly atop the stool.
Scarcely waiting for Jennifer to get into position, the strangely eager camera-dog started counting, "Three, two.." and before he even got to one, Jennifer heard the flash, a dull -pop- noise in her head accompanying it and a faint, funny tingling deep in her forehead as a handful of neurons are overloaded and burned out in an instant. She squinted her eyes and tried to blink the brightness away.
"Jeeze, that flash is killer.." she quietly complained, shaking her head to clear her vision. "Oh, don't mind the flash. After a little while you won't even notice it." woofed the shepherd from behind the camera, looking past it with a toothy grin before he prepared for a second shot. "Go ahead and put your paws in your lap.. Good, now, turn to the side a little bit make sure to look right at the camera." he guided the young woman, his tail wagging in a strangely excited manner as he took the second photograph.
Again, the collie heard a faint popping sound in the front of her head, her paws reaching down to grip the stool beneath her as that disorienting tingling faded from her, feeling almost like it was her brain itself... As her vision cleared, she looked up to the camera, suddenly feeling a lot less apprehensive and awkward about this whole thing. "Well, this isn't so bad..." she thought aloud as she crossed her legs and perched her bare paws on one of the beams of the stool, trying to look casual and relaxed.
From behind his camera, Mr. Evans couldn't help but grin as he watched the collie already start to relax and settle, her expression becoming looser and more comfortable. The initial timidness seemed all but gone.
"Atta girl," he woofed cheerfully, "You're a natural." As he reached down to adjust the growing tent in his jeans, he was silently thankful that the tripod obscured that particular portion of his being! Unable to keep himself from getting excited in anticipation of the events to come.
"Don't stop now, I'm on a roll!" barked Jennifer, with uncharacteristic ease and cheerfulness.
"That's the spirit!" responded the shepherd, and soon enough he was snapping more pictures.
Each one brought with it another strange popping sound, and another funny tingling, but each time the posing collie seemed to care less and less. Her worries seemed to fade away with each photo taken, and it felt wonderful! She couldn't help but wear a goofy grin as her increasingly simplified mind buzzed pleasantly.
"This is really kinda fun," Jennifer noted happily, spreading her legs and leaning forward on the stool, both her paws gripping the edge of it between her thighs in a childish, carefree manner.
"Isn't it just?" asked Mr. Evans, leaning from behind the camera. "So you're a high school graduate, huh Jenn? Learn anything fun there?" he asked casually, ears perked forward to listen intently to the dog's response.
Lightly canting her head, the young collie seated upon the stool gave her brow a thoughtful little furrow, looking deep in thought for a moment before dismissively shrugging her shoulders up and explaining, "I don't really rememberrrr, but is that really important? Come on, let's take more pictures!", her tail eagerly wagging behind her as she remains posed on the stool.
"Perfect," said Mr. Evans, unable to keep himself from gripping at the base of that tent in his pants with his left paw while his right lines up another shot, zooming the camera in on the collie's childish, simple grin before snapping another photo. Through the lens, he watched her blink hard and shake her head, leaning back on the stool a little before she began to rock back and forth on it slowly.
"Careful, Jenn. Don't tip the stool." warned the dog from behind the camera, clearly sounding amused.
"Oh, woooops. Sorry Mister Evans." was Jennifer's response, the border collie clearly not living up to her breed's famed intellect as she looked down at the stool as if to make sure it's no longer moving. Her attention wandered as soon as it had settled, however, and she was soon looking past the stool to the floor, and the peculiar, puffy pad positioned under the legs of the seat. Whiskers twitching and forehead wrinkling, she leaned down to get a closer look at it, her pert, denim-clad bottom slipping off the stool as she instead leans over it on her breasts, arms crossed over the seat and feet planted on the floor.
Ears perk with recognition as she recognizes the object, and she looks up to the dog to ask, "What's the wee-wee pad for?", head tilting to the opposite direction in earnest curiosity.
Oops, she noticed. Quickly snapping another photo of the adorable pose, he can't help but snicker as he looks from behind the camera, his toes curling against the hard wood of the floor from the continual squeezing of the soft knot forming at the base of his tent.
"Ah, that's um.. To protect the floor, so the stool doesn't scuff the lacquer." Mr. Evans explained. A weak explanation, certainly, but after a moment of careful deliberation, the curious collie just barked, "Oh." It seemed like a completely reasonable explanation to the young woman in her hindered state.
Indeed, rather than being suspicious, the collie completely shifted her attention to an uncomfortable sensation in her midsection, a paw unashamedly reaching down to squeeze her crotch in a paw while the other remained propped against the stool. Not long after, she was shifting her weight from foot to foot, parts of her mind responsible for things as simple as bladder control not at all exempt from the damage the continual exposure to the flash is causing her. This illicited a curious look from Mr. Evans, whose eyes widened behind his polarized, protective sunglasses as he noticed this particular behavior.
With a brief, excited pant, he swallowed hard and asked the squirming, fidgetting dog before him, "Jennifer... Jenny, do you.. have to go to the bathroom?"
"Uhhh.. Uh-huh." was the simple response from the girl, just past her nineteenth birthday but squirming and gripping herself like a four year old who needed to use the toilet!
Unable to help himself, the increasingly aroused dog behind the camera drew in a brief little breath and shuddered as he gave his knotted canine length a squeeze through his boxers and slacks.
"That's okay, Jenny... You can hold it, right?" he asked, moving back behind the camera to watch the woman nod like any young child would when asked such a question. "Good. Jenny, um, can you move the stool aside and stand on the wee-wee pad? Just like that..." Mr Evans directed her, hastily zooming the camera out to get a good shot of the collie. Standing and squirming with a paw between her legs and a clear look of concentration on her face as she did her best not to pee her pants.
"This is going to sell real well..." murmured Mr. Evans under his breath as he snapped yet another picture.
Jennifer's muzzle opened as she shut her eyes tightly and brought her free paw up to rub at her face, a soft giggle escaping her lips at the funny tingling in her head and the cottony, cloudy feeling that follows it, the poor girl's ability to focus being robbed from her picture by picture as more and more of her neurons are damaged or burnt out entirely by the each bright flash.
So short was her attention span, that she at first didn't even notice the twinge between her legs as her bladder stopped receiving the signals to hold on and began freely passing urine. At first a trickle, it soon became a steady flood, hot canine piss splashing into her panties and soaking through them entirely. "Here we go.." murmured the camera-dog, as the denim around his new favorite subject's paw began to darken, glistening as her ignorately passed urine soaks it. Only when her paw is soaked and pee is dripping off her knuckles did Jennifer notice, eyes widening a little as she squeezed her legs together. "Oh nooo..." whined the addled young woman as that dark patch spread across her lap and started moving down her thighs. She may have forgotten to hold it, but she was still aware enough to know that it's wrong to wet your pants, especially at a job interview!
Jennifer wasn't given a lot of time to consider this turn of events as that dark stain spread, giving Mr. Evans several excellent photo opportunites he wasn't about to pass up! With one paw on his hidden length and the other on the shutter, he began taking more photographs, scarcely giving Jennifer the time to recover from the first before another was taken. More of the poor girl's neurons were simply shorted out for good with every flash, every picture taken, until she lacked the sense to even shut her eyes after the repeated bright flashes, her concerned look about the knee-length piss stain on her once fresh denim shorts becoming a blank and carefree stare at the camera, her tail slowly and dumbly wagging behind her as the results of her flash-induced retardation soaked into the absorbant piss-pad under her feet.
By the time Jennifer's accident was over, Mr. Evans had taken plenty of pictures, each showing the decline of the poor girl's once impressive intellect as it simply burned out and faded away, her expression becoming slack and vacant, her glassy eyes looking to the dog taking her photographs. Her splayed knees shifted as she moved her feet outwards to maintain her balance.
"That's a good girl," panted Mr. Evans as he stepped from behind the camera, grabbing an oversized pair of pullups training pants from a tray under the tripod's fabric skirt, openly gripping his erection, far too engrossed with this girl's steady decline to stop. Indeed, even his boxers had become damp and sticky with his periodic jets of pre. No matter to him, however; He had to get the girl ready for the next set of shots! "Better hurry.." thought the male as Jenn's tail flicked awkwardly and she completely obliviously passed gas into her pissy panties.
As he walked towards her, Jenny's gaze shifted up to his face, her eyes wide and slightly confused as her head swam with muddled thoughts and fogged memories. Muzzle stupidly hung open, a small amount of drool began to collect on her lip and trickle down along her chin, completely escaping the stupified border collie's attention as she furrowed her brow. The best sentence she can muster is a slurred, "Puh.. Peepee'd my panfs." to the approaching german shepherd, informing him of the obvious.
Grinning widely, Mr. Evans nodded his head, speaking calmly and quietly as he pet the debilitated canine between the ears and knelt down to start unbuttoning her pants, with nary a protest from the girl.
"Yes you did, Jenny! Here, let me help. I even have a change of pants for you..." His paws carefully avoided the wet denim, the woman the soaking pants belonged to simply watching with mild interest as she echoed, "T'ange uh panff...", scarcely grasping the meaning as she compliantly waited for the dog to do what he liked. The soaking pants slipped down the girl's hips easily with a little coaxing from the male, revealing the once white pair of snug panties that hugged Jennifer's vulva, soaking wet and translucent yellow. Soon, they too are grasped by the waist and shimmied down, added to the pile of clothes around her ankles, leaving her standing there nude from the waist down.
"That's a good girl. Stand just like that while I help you into your new pants. Come on, one leg at a time." Mr. Evans cooed sweetly to the girl as he remained crouched, helping the girl step out of her piss-soaked pants and panties and into the legs of those stretchy, soft, thick training pants he got for her. Uneasily, Jenn placed her paws on the older dog's shoulders to balance herself, her knees wobbly and uneasy as she struggled to think. Her vacant expression and chin was a good indication of her success, her head still swimming and unable to piece together a proper thought. That was all quickly forgotten as warm, soft padding is drawn up around her hips and nestled around her bottom, her tail being threaded through the elasticy hole in back as the training pants are settled into place.
Carefully standing up, Jenn's paws still on his shoulders, Mr. Evans grinned widely and couldn't resist giving this newly retarded canine a little kiss on the nose as he looked into her glassy eyes. "You're such a cute girl, Jenn." he murmured with a grin, his head tilting a little as he leans back from her to get a better look at the girl. "Here.. Keep this in your mouth," he said as he gently lifted the girl's paw up to her muzzle and used both his paws to help ball it into a loose fist. Her thumb was then pressed past her wet, drooly lips, where the Jenn automatically cradled it with her tongue and started working her maw around it. The bitter, salty flavor it carried was enough to make her wrinkle her nose and whiskers, but not nearly enough to make her remove it as she instead focused on the interesting texture of her fur and the primitive, comforting feeling of having something to suck on. Besides, she was a good girl, and good girls followed directions, right?
"Excellent, very good," the lustful male woofed softly, "But not quite perfect." as his paw slipped down to help that straining length free of his slacks, its crimson, throbbing tip pressed out the fly and against the fur just under the elastic of Jenn's fresh pullup.
"It just won't do for me to take pictures of you in -dry- pullups, but you already went and pissed all over your pants," Mr. Evans began to explain to the drooling woman in front of him, grinning in amusement as Jenn tilted her head faintly and, as she recognized certain words, enthusiastically barked, "Piffed my panfth!" around the thumb that occupied her mouth. "Uh-huh. So I'm just going to wet it for you. Then we can finish your audition!" Mr. Evans concluded, rocking his hips to slip the tip of that length right up into the pullup, resting against Jenn's warm vulva.
It only took him a moment of concentration to start, and once he began, he sighed relievedly out his nose as the confused, addled collie in front of him squirmed against the sudden warmth washing over her most sensitive parts. "Warm.." she murmured quietly as she leaned against the male, clearly unable to recognize what he was doing. The padding between her legs warmed and steadily began to bloat as it absorbed the male's piss, the white padding discoloring and turning yellow while the stars decorating it disappeared.
Slowly, the stream ebbed and Mr. Evans carefully slipped his length from the warm, sagging pullup, letting himself poke freely from the fly of his slacks. A paw ducked into his pocket and carefully clutched the small, translucent oval of a suppository he'd kept for just such an occasion, a grin crossing his lips as he pressed himself right up against his drooly new star's side an slid his paw down the seat of her warm, heavy pullup, cupping the base of her tail while he curled his finger down to slide that slick little bullet past her slackened muscle and push it deep up into her rectum.
Jenn screwed her muzzle up, making an awkward expression as she felt the odd sensations of a warm finger and a tingly, slick suppository being stuffed up her rear to ensure her final photos are her best yet. With a confused little wuff, Jenn looked to the older german shepherd as she's carefully coaxed down to her knees, and then to her paws, the wet clothes and piss-pad moved out of the shot by Mr. Evan's foot. The final touch is a set of toy blocks he set out in front of the thumbsucking, pants-pissing canine, making sure her rear end is angled towards the camera.
"There you go, Jenny. Just a few more shots and your audition is allll over." cooed Mr. Evans in a soft, pleasant tone as he returned to the camera, Jennifer watching him until her attention was stolen by the colorful blocks and her tail began to wag slowly behind her heavy, yellowed bottom. To keep her paw in her mouth, she rocked back carefully onto her knees and began inspecting the blocks, prodding them curiously and rolling them around to look at all the different shapes and colors.
Again tending to his erection, the german shepherd quietly observed the brain-damaged woman on the floor in front of him, dutifully and happily sucking on her thumb just like she'd been told. It wasn't long before the suppository had its intended effect and the young woman was unconsciously squirming from the tingling, along with the shifting sensation in her gut, her limited intellect far more interested in the colorful objects that lay in front of her than something as silly as controlling her bowels! Noting the squirming, Mr. Evans grinned to himself and released his erection to adjust the camera and perfect the shot. With a snap and flash, he took a shot of the girl's presented, wet-padded rump and perked up tail, her thumb in her muzzle while her other played with blocks like a good little girl. The flash, though having had no effect on her as she looked away, was certainly enough to get her attention, and she looked over to the source of the sound and light.
Mr. Evans would not waste this opportunity. As Jenn looked right into the camera over her shoulder, block in her paw, the shepherd snapped another photograph, beginning to destroy what's left of his subject's frontal lobe cells with each new photograph in this final sequence. Jenn's eyes unfocused completely, their lids lowering a little as her previously dim expression turned towards mindless, all her attention devoted to the warm tingling of her neurons shorting out and becoming useless, and then, to the strange, pleasurably sensation of her bottom parting and beginning to release a soft, shapeless mess into her soaking pullup.
One eye shut and the other glued to the viewfinder of the camera, Mr. Evans flicked the switch on the back of the 'special' flash to disable it so he could complete the photo set without turning his newest subject into a vegetable. With the camera focused intently on the girl, he gripped his length and slowly starting pumping at it as he watched Jenn begin to mess her training pants for the camera. Slowly and steadily as the retarded canine drooled down her wrist. The wet, yellowed seat of the pullup that clung to her hips began to swell outwards, the soft, sticky mess securely contained within building up against her rump until it ran out of room in the snug training pants and spread downwards, faintly discoloring the padded seat of her pullups as she shut her eyes, completely engrossed in the pleasant sensations of filling her pants like a helpless toddler. Nothing else mattered to her debilitated mind; Not her past life nor the camera furiously clicking away and taking picture after picture of her childish act.
Just as Jenn finished and simply returned to pawwing at her blocks, so did Mr. Evans, the shepherd biting his lip and groaning as he splattered the camera's tripod skirt with several powerful jets of canine cum, dropping back into the chair behind him. He took several moments to collect himself, rubbing his eyes before he glanced fondly to the braindead dog playing on the floor in front of him, reaching over to the intercom on the wall next to his chair to firmly, shakily press a button.
"S.. Stevens," he began, swallowing in between his ragged, panting breaths, "She got the job. Send in a nurse to clean her up and take her to her room. I'll... need a few minutes before you send in the next one." he finished with a grin, sighing out his nose contently.
This photo set was going to make a killing.