FSE

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Chapter 3: New Owners

With that I learned the rules of the place while through the next week and a half as my body finished changing. Going through the female version of puberty in a way to catch up to my physical age if I recall my high-school health class and biology.

Those barely noticeable lumps on my chest that no sane person would call breasts? They grew into large fleshy orbs complete with the sensitive nipples. If I had to guess they are C-cups but with my smaller size over all they look similar D's. They also get in the way of moving my arms in front of me constantly reminding me of their presence even if I don't want to know about them.

Along with them my rear and hips round out and I fully develop stereotypical hourglass figure of an adult female. Something I did not ever expect to see when I look down at myself.

Even this fur on my body changed growing thick and soft, though I would wish it would just fall off every night before I fell asleep.

I hated having it and I hated what they did to me. Every night I go to sleep and as I lay there in a dreamless state my body changes. Then each morning I dread to look at myself as I know more of what I 'was' has slipped away during the night.

My data sheet was replaced the day after my exercise in futility by the bitch and placed almost out of my reach. It stood mostly unchanged from the one I had torn to shreds, the owner field was no longer empty though. Seeing it was like another physical blow to my psyche.

From that day onward until now the fact that I am now an 'owned' piece of property weighs on my thoughts. It feels wrong, you can't own people. Owning people was what our backwards and dumber ancestors did! Looking at my hands reminds me that no self respecting 'person' would call Bio-Morphs 'people'.

My 'owner' is called Mauri's. By the simple fact it is just a single word instead of a name makes it reasonable to assume that I am owned by a company rather than a private individual. Great, so instead of being some sick fuck's play toy I will get worked within an inch of what is left of my life and then discarded.

These thoughts twist and writhe through my mind as I spend the days either pacing my small pen, or laying on that rock hard mattress.

My musings are interrupted today not to long after another unappealing lunch of kibble. The Bitch and Fat Man enter and their footsteps cause the entire room to go silent. Something is off about them and it causes my ears to not only track the sound but twitch every few seconds.

I find it both weird and helpful the sounds of their footsteps is all I need to tell who they are and where they are headed. In this case they are heading right for my pen. I back up a few steps from the chain link door when I finally see them and the reason their footfalls sounded different.

The Bitch, as I still love calling her, is wearing some thicker and bulkier clothing. Matching them are some thick shoulder length gloves made of raw hide leather, which she checks to make sure the fit on her arms is snug. The kind someone wears when they expect to have to handle a wild animal. "That's a good girl! Today is a happy day for you and all of us. Oh yes it is!" Her words drip with fake joyfulness and a forced friendly tone. My ears lay flat back and I can feel my lips curling before I can stop them in response. You are 'not' going to grab me with those gloves! Only for her to completely ignore those signals as she seems to not be paying attention for them. "Time to ship you to your new owner. Someone who is going to be taking good care of you from now on." The more she speaks in that tone the more it makes me nervous and scared as I take a few more steps back from my pen door. What also doesn't help is that Fat Man is right behind her with a Bio-Morph sized muzzle made out of leather and metal bits.

Not the kind of muzzle though that just puts a plastic or metal guard over a Bio-Morphs muzzle, no it is the full on leather straps that force your jaw shut by sheer force. The most degrading kind.

She opens my kennel door slowly while keeping the nice friendly tone of her voice and smile going. As if simply doing so will make me cooperative to her and Fat Man. These damn ears and this tail continue to betray my mood by the former flattening even more against my skull and the latter bottle brushing while whipping about. Despite this I tense my legs and prepare to bolt out of this pen by running in between them. The gloves the bitch here is wearing look like they can hamper one's dexterity and the fat man looks to obese to be able to react fast enough to grab me.

I was still weak from whatever they did to change me and the coma drugs when they tossed me in here. Over the past week and a half though I regained my strength while my body filled out in ways I did not want it too.

I bet I am strong enough to break out of their grip now if they tried to grab me at least. I know I can't hurt The Bitch considering what she is wearing on her arms no matter how much I want too.

About the only good thing they are doing is blocking my view of the voyeur red wolf Bio-Morph in the pen opposite of me. I don't want to know his reaction to what I am about to do.

The bitch opens the chain link door and steps slightly to the side of me within arms reach. Mainly so she can grab me by the scruff of my neck without reaching over my head and risk me biting her. Because I will honest to god try to bite her if she even lays a singer finger on me! Simply from her moving to the side to try to grab me though gives me the opening I am looking for. I take off in a full on run that forces me to fall on all fours before I know it. Though that instinct ends up helping me as I am able to slip in between the fat man's chubby legs before he can reach down to grab me over his gut.

I would find it rather comical seeing the fat man unable to reach bellow his waist if I was not trying to run as fast I can to the exit.

Once past the two of them I end up sliding on the smooth concrete floor outside of my kennel and into the chain link door to Mr Voyeur's pen. Using that same door I am able to regain my footing faster than the bitch and fat man. The former is trying to push the latter out-of-the-way so she can go after me, his girth though makes him rather slow to turn around in as small a space as the doorway to that damned pen.

Ignoring the red wolf Bio-Morph's disapproving look and all the noise the other Bio-Morphs are making I madly dash for the exit on all fours. With the goal in sight I just shut out everything else, the noise, the feeling of the jiggling on my chest, the whipping of my tail. My entire focus is just that frosted glass sliding door and the slim promise of freedom past it.

If I can just get to the door and the hallway beyond I have a hope of getting out of here. Where ever this place is, I hope it is near someplace populated where I can get help.

My escape is palatable upon reaching the door only for it to turn sour as I realize its not opening for me. What the hell! I had heard it open for that bitch and the fat man whenever they entered or exited. Is it keyed? Don't tell me that its keyed to a badge or something!

Standing quickly with the sound of those two approaching I try to push the sliding doors open as it says on them to do in an emergency. Well this certainly counts as one in my book! I must still be weaker than normal because the door isn't budging and inch from me pushing it.

I hear them laughing as they walk up behind me. The bitch and the fat man are laughing at me as I whine and hit my shoulder against the door in a frustrated panic.

The bitch grabs me by the nape of my neck with one gloved hand and then pins my arms behind my back. "We always lock the doors when we plan on opening the kennels to prevent escape. Best of the bunch though, only one to make it all the way to the door before we caught you. Shows that you are a nice and healthy little girl now. You also proved my point with my co-worker that he needs to go on a diet badly." Using both hands she pulls me away from the door. Then down the kennel hallway past my pen and around the corner to the main work area of the room.

As she drags me across the floor Fat Man slips the muzzle over my head and tightens it to just short of cutting off the blood flow in my muzzle. "You can bite my fat ass. It is a genetic condition so I can't help it." The bitch shifts the grip on the nape of my neck after the muzzle is secured, but doesn't let go. The pressure of it is still enough to rob me of my strength as she tightens her grip on my arms. I can also practically hear her roll her eyes at Fat Man's comment. If the bitch is right about anything she has said or done today it has to be 'that', stop eating those long johns Fat Man!

My struggling in her grasp makes it so both of them have to lift me up so they can place me face down onto the cold exam table. Thankfully for what little human dignity I have left this one doesn't have those leg restraints. "Time for your ID chip and vaccinations little one. Don't want you to get sick and have to be rushed back here or to one of our sister facilities for treatment by your new owners. Strap her in chubby, and try not to eat the merchandise." She comments and commands the fat man who grumbles in response while quickly affixing leather straps to restrain me face down on the metal table.

The feeling of the tight restraints is almost distracting enough to ignore the sensation of the cold metal on these damned breasts I now have.

Only my tail is unrestrained and concentrate to make full use of it by hitting fat man's face with it. I only end up annoying him as he can just idly bat my tail out of his face.

Surprisingly the neck restraint is not tight enough to prevent me from turning my head. This allows me to watch The Bitch pick up a fluid filled syringe with a large gage needle along with one of those needless injectors and several differently colored flasks. "Don't be scared little one, this will be over before you know it. Be nice little one and I may even give your ID number to the owners of that red wolf Bio-morph you have been so enamored with. I am sure they wouldn't mind studding him out for you have your first litter of kits. Oh they would look 'so' cute." The only answer I have to her words needs no verbal explanation, a deep growl with my ears pined flat back. This is the only time I am glad I can express my feelings without opening my mouth due to the muzzle.

My growling instantly stops upon feeling the needle being pushed inserted into the muscle of my back. Just by the stinging sensation I know it is in a location that I won't be able to reach. What was in the syringe? "Oh she didn't like that suggestion at all. Maybe the conversion made her gay?" Based on that nightmare I had the first night here I can pretty much say that is not true, not that the Fat Man would ask me. The Bitch hands him the spent needle as he speaks and directs him with a simple point of a finger to dispose of it into an orange sharp bin.

She then prepares the needless injector for use by inserting an amber liquid filled vial. I have always wondered what it felt like to have one of those used on me. Mainly because I hate needles and yet mother and I were too poor to go to any clinic using the device. Needles were always cheaper to use for those places.

"Just wait till her owner lets her go into her first heat. She will be humping anything to get relief while clawing at her door to get at him or any other male for that matter. Starting with the rabies vaccine." Please tell me that is NOT what I have to look forward too, this body is freaky enough without it making me desperate for sex with what I was. She presses the injector not so gently against the left side of my neck before I hear the click of her pulling the trigger. A tingling cool sensation spreads from there before it disappears leaving a slight itch behind. I can see why people prefer this over using a needle now. The Bitch walks in front of me as she pulls the empty vial out and slots into it a clear liquid filled one and presses it against my right forearm. When she enters my view I don't even try to suppress a growl at her nor the whipping of my tail. "The canine immunodeficiency disorder vaccine is next. Necessary even if we have not seen a case in years." Another click, and another hiss followed by the same sensations except that this time it makes my whole right arm numb for a few minutes. Okay, I guess I can see why needles are still around other than being cheap. Never had a normal injection do this.

She again walks around in front of me only this time she gently pats my head and I just add an icy glare to my growling at her. The bitch completely ignores then and slots in a vile with blue liquid before forcefully pressing the head of the injector into my left bicep. My growling turns into a yelp at this causing the damn bitch to smirk. "This one is a complex one covering multiple diseases. A combination; flu, measles, mumps, chicken pox vaccine. Yes your makeup is still human enough to catch those and because you were converted it made you vulnerable to them again. Something about the virus consuming your old anti-bodies or something, hell if I understand the reason. Still, we can't have you catching them and passing them on to patrons little one." A hiss from the device is all the warning I get before my left arm joins the right one in temporary tingling and numbness. The bitch is running out of limbs and places to inject stuff into so I momentarily hope this is the last one only for that to be dashed as she ejects the spent vile and slots in a larger one.

For a moment she holds off on injecting me with it. Instead, she just stands there and lightly petting my fur along my back and it completely creeps me out. In that it both feels good and the fact its 'her' doing it. "This last injection is a heat suppressant because your new owners don't want to breed you yet little one. It was early spring when you were put into that conversion tank, as of yesterday we had the fall equinox pass. So without this you would be going into your first heat in a week or two. It is a shame because your kits would be SO cute!" The injector is then jabbed into one of my ass cheeks and I hear the trigger being pulled. Instead of making my rear and tail numb it causes the bottom to drop out of my stomach before queasiness overtakes me. It takes most of my will power just to keep myself from retching up that kibble because something tells me it is not going to taste pleasant on the way back up.

I have to fight to keep from throwing up while the bitch hands off the shoulder length gloves to Fat Man. Its near comedic gold watching him struggle to pull them up his cellulite filled arms. That is if I was not quelling the rebellion in my belly I would be laughing. Once he has them on though The Bitch opens my restraints and he grabs my arms and pins them behind my back with one hand before roughly grabbing the scruff of my neck. The damned reaction to being grabbed there nearly makes me loose the battle with keeping my meal down. Otherwise, I may have tried to break free.

Fat Man lifts me off the table by the arms he pinned behind my back before taking a leisurely stroll back through the kennel and to the frosted glass door.

The expressions on the other Bio-Morphs in the other kennel's range from pity to relief, and I don't know why some had the latter other than they were annoyed at me for some reason. The only one with a different expression was that red wolf across the way from me. If I didn't know better I would say he was concerned for me and angry at Fat Man. Nothing he can do though as the securely locked chain link door on his pen separates him from us.

Smirking at me Fat Man unlocks the door by entering in a code on a nearby keypad as if he was amused at my escape attempt. He does so slowly and in full view of my sight as if he is mocking me, the door opens with a rush of air once the last digit is entered. "I think you're going to like your new owner." He licks his lips as if savoring a meal. "I had a meal there on my way down here after being hired. It is a nice Amerasian restaurant with good food and great service. The 'help' are dressed in kimono's as I assume you will be and the customers are allowed to play with them." Fat man stops walking and lifts me up to take a look before fondling one of my breasts as I squirm in his hold. He then lowers me closer to the ground before resuming our trip. "You know, if I ever drop by the place I might just pay you a visit. To bad I can't go any further than fingering you though." He takes me through a series of different looking corridors from the one I went through after waking up. These have other frosted glass doors every fifty to eighty feet apart that I suspect are other kennels full of pens. Just how big of an operation are they running here? How many of the Bio-Morphs in there were people like I was? I don't have time to ponder this as Fat Man shifts his hold of me to press the elevator call button. Again this makes me wonder of the sheer size of this operation if the building has an elevator.

After a short elevator ride up a couple floors according to the indicator, he takes me through a more utilitarian looking hallway as compared to the medical look of the ones downstairs. So maybe this place isn't a hospital or medical complex and I can be just about anywhere.

High pitched whine of electric forklifts forces me to pin my ears against my head, where electric motors always so loud? If my own arms weren't pinned by this guy's greasy hands I would be covering my ears as we get closer to a door made of thick opaque plastic ribbons. The sound of what I suspect larger diesel motors from the scent burning my nose is the reason as Fat Man doesn't even stop to push the ribbons aside and enter the room beyond.

Upon entering my fur poofs and I cough at the sudden and unwelcome increase in humidity as well as temperature. Already I can scent the fact this obese individual dragging me along the rough concrete floor has started to sweat from the effort to do this. I half hope he keels over from a heart attack in the next few minutes, maybe I can run through one of the empty loading bays before someone grabs me?

Only for my train of thought to derail from what I see when I glance in the direction he is taking me.

I'm stunned into silence at the sheer scale of the place and all the activity in it. Laid out in front of me is a gigantic double sided semi-trailer loading dock. So large in fact that I can't see the other end of it through the humidity and haze from the exhaust of the diesel electric trucks.

Width wise it seems to be a good one hundred feet wide with rows of trailer sized doors running along the walls all the way to the back of this place. Some doors are closed, others open with no trailer, and some have trailers backed up to them and open showing the inside of a residential unit for a Bio-Morph. My attention though is drawn to the biggest feature in this humongous indoor expanse, sets of chain link fenced pens and the masses of Bio-Morphs huddled and crowed inside like cattle. From the sight and smell they are all as frightened as I am from just seeing it.

Each pen runs forty feet long by twenty feet wide with ten foot tall walls, each looks to have roughly eight feet of space separating one from the next. Which allows workers who all appear to be in drab uniforms to walk in between them and not get snagged by arms thrust through the chain link holes.

Momentarily I wonder how I am going to be put inside one of these pens other than being dropped in from the sets gangways suspended above them and running the length of the place. A set of stairs is nearby allowing fat man here to climb up onto one, well if he doesn't die of a heart attack first.

Only then do I notice the lock out gates set on either side of each pen facing the garage doors, the kind used to allow safe transfers of dangerous zoo animals.

Fat man drags me closer allowing me to see that each one of the pens holds a Bio-morph of a singular species and gender. The one in front of me holds the male cougar breed, each one a good foot taller than I am with bodies of pure muscle. "Oh I see, you don't like canines, instead you prefer feline dick." I only notice I am staring at their physic longer than I 'should' be upon hearing his obscene quip. I'm a guy dammit! I shouldn't be staring at other men's bodies. With my gaze under control and this weird body no longer making me do things I don't want to do, do I notice their faces.

Some are scared, others oddly seem calm and indifferent, some even try to hide behind others, yet none of them are spared from what I see happen next.

As this fat bastard looks for someone to take me off his hands I get the pleasure of watching some employees here filling customer orders.

A young man no older than I was climbs up the stairway and onto the gangway over the cougar Bio-Morph pen. He removes a small device from his belt and waves it over the huddled group of frightened Bio-Morphs. It beeps loudly when it is over a particular individual and he waves it around to make sure its reading the right one.

The Bio-Morph in question panics upon noticing this and tries to push himself deeper into the huddled mass of the others, but most of them just melt away from him out of fear.

With the man on the gangway pointing him out another worker rushes up the stairs and onto the gangway with a long pole in his hands. I recognize what the pole is, it is a tonged choker pole used to drag animal's by the neck. What's going to happen next is suddenly obvious to me but I can't look away nor stop imagining myself in his position.

As the second man takes up position the first man walks down the gangway and to the lock out gate on the left. Upon signaling his coworker above him he pulls a chain attached to a pulley and the inner gate of the lock out gate.

The worker on the gangway reaches down with the pole and roughly grabs onto the neck of the poor cougar Bio-Morph. With the leverage provided by the length of it he drags the poor thing over and through the open inner door of the lock out gate. He even jabs him roughly with the gripper points to make sure he stays put as the gate is lowered. All the while he is growling loudly at them.

Once closed he lets go of the chain and walks over to the other side of the lockout gate. The employee uses the same kind of device that the other one used to double check they have the right individual Bio-Morph.

The beep is all he needs so he hooks it back onto his belt before retrieving a choke pole from a nearby rack. The tough nylon loop is quickly secured around the neck of the cougar Bio-Morph via a slot running the length of the lockout gate.

With the task on the gangway finished the second employee walks down the stairs and heads for the chain to lift the lock out gate's outer door. Only when he is sure the choke pole is secure around the neck of the struggling Bio-Morph does he lift the outer door. The cougar Bio-Morph is then dragged across the concrete floor, the second employee helps the first once he is outside of the lockout gate. Both of them use the leverage to drag him into an open residential unit.

Once inside they close the doors, release him, and pull out the choke lasso pole in one fluid well rehearsed movement to prevent escape. It doesn't stop the poor creature from trying though. He just ends up slamming against the doors as the workers close and lock them, followed by the semi driving out of the loading dock.

With this task complete one of the two employees walk over to Fat Man, finally noticing him. The other walks further down this obscenely sized shipping area to another holding pen and continues his work. "I'm sorry sir, but if that vixen is aggressive we can't put her in the main vixen holding pen. She will damage product." Pointing to the muzzle strapped onto my head. Not to mention that if I was going to be aggressive it would only be to fat man here. You are just doing your job and if you actually knew I could think like a human you would be disgusted at it I bet.

Fat man shakes his head. "She's only been aggressive to me and the vet on duty. The muzzle was so she wouldn't bite us while we vaccinated and chipped her. Is her housing container ready for the Mauri order? If not, then I can remove it and she can get to know all the other vixens in the holding pen. I am sure they will like her." This fulfillment employee removes the device off his belt and points it at me. Up close and personal I can now can see it is a long range RFID reader and a small tablet built into a single rugged rubber housing of caution yellow.

Then tapping a few places on the tablet screen he quickly waves it over my head. The resulting beep is loud enough for me to reflexively fold my ears down. I also did not notice that I have gotten used to the noise in here enough to both hear it and let my ears return to their upright position. "You're in luck sir. The residential container was finished this morning and it has just pulled up to the loading dock waiting for her. Follow me please, it is down this way." He pauses though "You know sir, if you're tired I can take her from here?" Oh god, his sweat is trickling down his arm and onto my fur! Fat Man just waves off the fulfillment worker's concern with his free hand. "Just take me to her container, might as well see her off to her new home after all the 'trouble' she caused today. Crafty little bitch this one is." I don't know what's worse, the fact he is dripping on me like some melting stay puff marshmallow man. Or with how fur works that I will still smell him ON me till I can somehow remove it.

We are led further down the shipping area and past various Bio-Morph filled pens; House-Cat, Wolves, Generic Canines, Mice, Tigers, Vulpine Todds, and finally the Vixens. Each pen labeled appropriately for their respective species missing only the exotics that are more pet than slave.

Only the todds and the vixens pay any attention to me as we walk by the pens. The fulfillment employee removes a choke poke from a waiting rack set by the cages upon reaching the Vixen pen. I know what's coming and I try not to protest it for fear of what these two will do with me if I freak out when the loop is placed around my neck. The surprise yip that escapes my throat when the nylon choker is tightened, not enough to literally choke me, only enough to make breathing difficult if I don't move how the person holding the pole wants me too.

Fat man moves faster than I expect him to be able to do considering the condition he is in and removes the now redundant muzzle, for his efforts I snap my jaws at him.

More out of a show of spite technically since I rather not get the 'taste' of his sweat in my mouth. The overpowering stench of it is my limit of tolerance for this not so jolly walking sack of lard. A small part of me though wonders if I stank this bad when I was sweating as much as he is, granted that was on a hot summer day.

The fulfillment employee roughly jerks me back with the choke rod causing me to yelp. "I see what you mean by her not liking you. Still, are you sure she isn't too aggressive to be sold to a public restaurant?" While asking Fat Man also takes hold of the choke rod and helps the employee push me into my open and waiting residential container. Even with the extra options my new 'owner' selected it still looks like an old transoceanic shipping container from the outside even with the paint on it. Regardless this will be my home for the foreseeable future.

My home. As much as I hated living in that re-purposed hotel with my mother, it was the only home I knew. I don't even remember where we lived before having to move into there. The things I would give to be back there again as compared to the reality I am in right now.

Just without the occasional nightmare's I have been having where she chases me out of the room like some sort of animal. "Yes I am sure she is safe enough to be sold to such a place." Warm as it is in the loading dock area, as soon as I am pushed into the container I feel it jump yet again forcing the unusual feeling of having to pant to stay cool. That's right, Bio-Morphs like the feral animals they are mostly made up of don't sweat like humans to keep cool. For some reason though a part of me likes this compared to what I was. Can't say I don't disagree considering if I smelled just as bad as Fat Man does now when I was hot and sweating as bad as he is when I was human.

While the fulfillment employee uses his body weight and the choke pole in place, Fat man quickly shuts the container's doors to the choke pole.

Suddenly the nylon choker loosens and is pulled over my head and off of me in the time it takes to register the lack of pressure. How many have they done this too to have such mechanical precision in their routine?

The time it takes me to turn around while taking only a single step to the doors they already have the pole pulled out of the container. A split second later the sliver of light is extinguished as they shut the doors and with a clunk, locking them tight. Leaving me standing rubbing the fur on my neck in such complete darkness that my better night vision can't see a thing.

Admittedly I am happy to finally be away from that tub of lard along with everyone else in this hellhole. That happiness is short lived as I start to fear that I may never be able to free myself from the rest of this hell. There are effective tools for keeping Bio-Morphs contained and where they 'belong', its not like the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries that I read about in school where a slave could run away pretty easily.

My train of thought is derailed as the rumble of the semi's diesel electric engine signals its departure. I also have no warning to brace myself as it moves forward causing me to almost fall flat on my muzzle. As the vehicle starts moving lights flicker on along with the sounds of fans and some ancient computer starting.

The lights stop flickering after truck fully powers up and I can see in full detail my new home. Hanging from the wall to my left is that single cot like bed they put in these things. At least the padding on it appears to be better than the ones I saw inside the containers sitting in front of my former home. I just never wanted to have such an up close and personal view of one.

Sitting on the floor to my right is some cheaply made storage space lacking any kind of cover on the front of it. Just above it is the control terminal for the lights and H.V.A.C. on a stand that is bolted through the insulation onto the metal wall.

The poor thing is sluggishly walking through its boot up routine one item at a time. To be fair I should be grateful it that my new 'owners' chose it and the climate control system as well as the fact they seem to work. They could have had them just put in some blankets and made me make due with those.

It means I might be able to keep myself both warm in the winter and cool in the summer as long as it keeps working and doesn't break any time soon. Because I doubt it is your typical top of the line system or that they would spare the cash to fix it.

Walking deeper into my new 'home' I wobble a little as the semi takes a rather sharp turn and tilts upward a little. Despite this I make it past the privacy wall and into the back area of my residential container.

Just past the flimsy plastic wall sits a combination sink and toilet made out of brushed aluminum bolted to the wall. The sink sits at a right angle to the toilet but said toilet doesn't have a lid. Having such facilities in this place puts it leaps and bounds above the pen I was in at the kennel, no more squatting to relieve myself like an animal anymore!

The faucet is set high enough allowing me to stick my head underneath it to take a drink of water if I need to. No more water dish like some dumb animal for me either!

In the rear of the residential container a flat metal wall has been welded in place blocking off the rest of it from this side. On the other side of it has to be the guts of the residential container, the heating and cooling system, cellular equipment monitoring its status and what ever else is needed. A two by two foot square door with a lever like handle half way up breaks the uniformity of the metal wall. Opening the small door reveals a working fridge, I guess this is where I get to keep my food. The back wall of the fridge looks like the inside of another door. No need to guess the reason for it being there. It is for filling the fridge without having to deal with the resident Bio-Morph, mainly me in this case. The simple presence of the optional fridge makes me hope that I will get to eat something other than that stupid kibble!

That damned stuff tasted wonderful at first but as the days stretched on it got tiring fast and started to lose its flavor.

On my way back to the barely adequate cot I glance up at the ceiling. Which confirms the fact they opted for climate control as I see a single metal grate screwed onto to a sakura flower patterned plastic ceiling. Odd they screwed that into place while everything else is bolted, then again the opening is way too small for me to crawl through so they probably felt no need to do so. Having it screwed shut means someone can take it off to clean the vents as well.

Looking closer though at the walls I find them and my cot's padding have the same pattern embossed on them. I would've preferred them to be blank instead of this girlie decor. Seeing it feels like they are rubbing salt into the mental wound of what they took from me, it might even be an intentional insult.

I may be female in body now but I will NOT start liking girlie things if I can help it! Next thing you know they will want me to dress up in frilly dresses and put on some makeup. Can Bio-Morphs even wear makeup?

A chime from the console draws my attention as it has finished booting up, and as I suspected it controls the lights and the temperature in here.

That can't be right can it? Its hot in here but the internal temperature reads seventy-eight degrees, well I can at least fix this. I clumsily use one of these bulbous finger pads on my hands to touch the blue down arrow bellow the internal temperature reading.

Before lifting my finger when it reaches seventy I hear the click and whirling sound of the climate control system's fan turning on from the other side of the metal wall. With that done I reluctantly decide to just lay down on my cot as it is becoming difficult to stay standing while this truck speeds up and gets buffeted by the wind.

Already the outside air is filling the place with the scents of a populated highway. Did exhaust stink this bad before or is it this new sense of smell I have? It doesn't matter because I can't do a thing about it. Instead, I let my tail flop onto my lap allowing me to stroke it and pet it. Both action's send pleasant sensations up my spine.

That feeling coupled with the white noise like sound from the tires on the road lulls me into a light nap before I realize it.

Squealing brakes rouse me from my nap. The semi trick has stopped it seems but with no windows I can't tell where I am. This fact doesn't worry me as much as it should. Glancing over to the terminal I notice that the temperature seems to have dropped outside to bellow sixty, this in turn has caused the heater in here to turn on. Good, this means I won't freeze to death during winter. Well if I am being taken somewhere that 'has' winter. I could end up in say Florida where winter is barely as cold as it is outside right now.

Then the engine of the semi shuts off letting silence fall over me and allowing me to hear the opening and slamming shut of the truck's driver side door.

With nothing else to do, and too awake to fall back asleep I sit up and slowly stretch all my limbs. Including my tail, which I have to admit I am starting to like having it.

With all the fur on it its so fluffy and warm to hold, it even sends pleasant feelings up through my spine when I pet it or comb it with my hands. I wonder if this is just me, or do all domesticated animals feel this? Maybe all Bio-Morphs too?

I occupy myself with petting it until I hear a small slat on one of the doors of this housing unit sliding open. Looking over I can see the scruffy beard and flannel shirt of the driver as he pushes in a tray with honest to god real food on it. Well as real as fast food can be.

If my this new sense of smell is not failing me its from one of the larger burger chains, the one with a golden symbol as their logo or what not. Not that it matters because to me, if its not that kibble crap it is manna from heaven.

When the slat closes I leap off the cot and knell in front of the tray. One paper wrapped burger, a paper cup full of what looks like fries and a small paper drink cup with a straw. The meal possibly only cost him a buck or two but to me, this simple gift has made him one of my most respected people I have met since waking up like this.

I inhale the burger, barely even savoring though still enjoying it! The fact that it was possibly made with the lowest quality meat for human consumption doesn't change the fact it was utterly divine compared to that kibble.

Doesn't matter what flavor the soda is, I drink it with similar enthusiasm. The fries soon follow the drink down my throat.

Savory as the meal was, it was so jam packed with energy that soon I am pacing the small residential container due to not being able to sit still. I feel like I could bounce off the walls if I wanted to. Speaking of bouncing all around the place.

How do women put up with these things on their chests?! With each step I take they jiggle and move about and when I lean down they move forward. Not to mention they get in the way of my arms if I am doing something in front of me. To top it all off, if I turn too fast one slaps against the other, while not painful it is uncomfortable because the whole thing seems sensitive to touch.

I hate this! I hate being stuck inside this fucking residential container. I HATE how I was forced into this body with all the strange sensations that come with it.

Yet what frustrates me the most is the fact that I can't speak and everyone treats me like an animal even when it is still obvious I am not one.

'Like an animal'. Stopping dead in my tracks I slump to the floor and barely miss landing on my tail. My mind dredging up memories of every time I acted and talked to a Bio-Morph like they are an animal. Every time I thought of them as such. Every single fucking time that I did it ever sense learning about them!

Yet I can still think like I used to before being forced into this body. I also still have my memories of being human not so long ago. So it stands to reason I am not an unthinking animal like I considered 'them' to be before this.

Then there is that red wolf bio-morph, the one stuck in the pen across from the one I was in. With how he acted and encouraged me to eat, then showed me how to walk again. Was he converted like I was? Or was he born naturally?

No dumb animal would help another of their kind like the way he did. They would either try to scare them off their territory or they would try to mate with them. Considering I am in a female body it would have been the latter if he was just an animal.

Looking down at my paw like hands, my bushy tail, and my weird looking feet and legs I can't help wondering if I was wrong about what 'they' were and what it says about what 'I' am now. One thing I do know now is that they must be able to think and feel, or I would not be able to do so right now.

Physically I can't call myself Jack Strader anymore. Everyone who knew me saw a male human nearing middle age, not a big breasted Platinum-silver Bio-Morph vixen. So just by looks no one would believe me, well if I could still speak.

I will be damned to hell before I willingly give up my name! Despite what they changed on me physically I am still 'me' on the inside even if no one I knew would recognize me anymore. Hell, I hardly recognize myself.

I think as long as I hold onto my name and my memories I will be able to survive this ordeal until I can find a way to escape. What about the others back in the kennel or the ones back home. Are they in the same situation I am in? Trying to hold onto who they were as their new reality pushes onto them.

Oh god, did I degrade some person stuck in the same situation I am in right now? Treating them that way only because they could not talk and looked similar to an upright standing animal?

What about that red wolf Bio-Morph? What was his opinion of me considering how badly I acted to him? Every time he tried to help me all he got in return was me growling at him.

If it weren't for him doing everything to force me to pay attention to him I might have tried to starve myself. He also showed me by using himself as a demonstration how to walk upright with these legs. Sparing me the nightmare of having Fat Man or The Bitch try to teach me how to walk.

The guy even tried to respect my modesty when I was sitting down I front of that damn bowl of kibble. To be frank if I was in his place I would try to stare considering how little entertainment there was while I was in that damn pen.

Mark my words, If I can somehow see him again I will properly thank him in every possible way for his help in spite of my attitude.

What a mood killer letting out a whine I let my ears and tail droop. Crawling over to the cot I climb onto it to lay down on my back, its comfortable but somehow feels off for some reason. Consciously I will my tail to lay in my lap so I can pet it and comb the fur between these nails on my hands.

None of this has answered the question I want answered and that is what are they and in turn what does that make me?

The fact sheets they handed out in High-school when we had a special class about them said that forty percent or less of the D.N.A. in them depending on the model is from humans. The rest of their genome is of Canis Lupus and the animal they resemble, but mostly the latter.

So in six or so months they robbed me of well over half of my humanity and replaced it with that of Canis Lupus and a vulpine vixen. The latter of which is the most disturbing part to me.

What should I call myself then? Vixen Jack? No, that sounds like some kind of super hero or super villain name.

Yet it is a descriptive name for what I am right now. I'm still Jack Strader but I am also a vixen too due to the parts that make me one. They are annoying, they feel weird, and are messing with my head when I don't want them too. I can't even get away from them in my dreams.

At least petting and combing my tail has kept me from freaking out about what they did to me. It should weird me out that I am starting to like this appendage and yet it feels so nice to do this. So if for some reason they can't completely change me back I would not mind keeping it.

Should not of had that soda with the food the driver gave me I feel too wound up to relax and sleep away my boredom. Might as well use it to my advantage so I stretch and then sit up. There has to be something in here I can use.

A more detailed examination the terminal shows that it is housed in a thermo sealed clamshell plastic housing with only a few slats on one side for ventilation. I have worked on similar systems for petty cash back home, none of them were sealed shut though. If I can find something thin and sharp maybe I can pry it open. I can try opening it with my claws via the gap between the case and the touch screen, but that would damage the screen and make it obvious I tampered with it. The computer has no obvious power cord hanging next to it so I assume its routed through the stand its on and the wall behind it.

Reluctantly I turn my attention to pacing the container, as I do so I can't help noticing flaws in all the other furnishings in here. A wall covering not completely bolted down allowing a little insulation to spill out of a corner.

The fact the shelving unit under the terminal seems to be made from the cheapest pressed particle board with plastic lamination on top. So cheap in fact that the bolts used to attach it seems to have broken the board underneath it. I can remove the pieces and then lay down the plastic sheet and it would still look solid. This is something I am going to have to keep in mind since it will give me space to possibly store stuff my new 'owners' don't want me to have.

Most objects in the front of the container are welded into place like the chains and hinges for the cot, glued into place like the padding on the cot. Said glue seems a little thin on the side closest to the wall. Another fact I file away in my mind.

Or they are bolted to the wall's, floor, or ceiling with the only exception being the flat head screws that keep the vent cover on the ceiling.

Turning my attention to the rear of the residential container reveals more shoddy work but less stuff I can take advantage of immediately or in the near future. The plastic privacy divider is made so thin it barely obscures the shape of the person on the other side. Not to mention that I can tell by touch it is made from the worst kind of plastic. This stuff becomes brittle with age and only slight exposure to sunlight. Maybe when it breaks I can hide some smaller and sharper pieces and use them as weaponry.

The faucet and sink are in fact both bolted and welded to the wall and contain no other parts other than the faucet handles and the flush button. Not that I would want to tamper with the only thing in here that makes me feel more human than animal.

Which leaves me with the metal wall and the inlay fridge. The wall also has that stupid sakura pattern embossed on its surface. It also has been both welded and bolted in place, though it does nothing to help with how thin it is and that I can push on the metal wall causing it to bow from my actions.

The fridge is also bolted and welded to the wall, and here I was hoping maybe I can push it out of the way after loosing it. Wait, when I opened it earlier I saw it had a door on the other side.

Sitting down in front of it I open my side of the fridge and quickly work out that the shelves inside can be removed with some wiggling. Once they are out of the way I can crawl in and take a look at the door on the other side.

It is an exact copy of the door on my side, which means if I can find something thin but strong I can push it through the insulation strip around the edge and possibly trigger the latch to open!

I don't know what use it will be to gain access to the maintenance side of the residential container. Simply knowing I may be able to lifts my mood and my hopes to levels I desperately need right now. For a short while until reality reminds me that I lack the tools I need. So I put the shelves back into the fridge and head back over to the cot with my head filled with possibilities but no way to act on them.

Everything I found in here depends on me finding something small, flat, and strong. Something sharp too with similar characteristics would help as well but without either I can't do anything.

Sitting on the edge of the cot I turn to myself to try to keep the crushing boredom at bay in between the noises that filter in from outside my residential container.

A mirror is something I did not find, yet for some reason I want to have right now. As much as this body disgusts me, I can't seem to get a good look at most of it other than the muzzle that is ever present in my field of view. Or my arms, or any part you can easily see from your own view. The rest I can't see. Did I keep my eye coloration? What does my face look like now? What about my back? How do I look as a whole? I twist and turn to try to get a look at parts of my body. As I do so I eventually find that I can curl up on the cot and it feels a lot more comfortable compared to laying on my back.

So comfortable in fact that I let out a small yawn, followed by a larger one. This is so weird, so full of energy one moment and then suddenly tired the next. I don't even try to fight it, I let myself drift off into sleep as I close my eyes.

Again loud noises wake me from my slumber. Gladly this time as I was having yet another nightmare, only this time it was mother and Patrick going after me while I am being forced to work at some ethnic buffet. The noises that wake me sound like someone is bolting somthing to the storage container I am in.

It starts at one corner, then I hear someone walking across the top to another corner and repeating the process until they do all four corners of it.

I must have arrived at my new owner's because it sounds like they are preparing to lift my residential container off the semi trailer.

The complete loss of electricity causing everything to shut off confirms it. This is followed a second later by the feeling of the container being lifted and the pull of gravity on me as it is sways in the breeze while being moved. I have to cling onto the padding to prevent being thrown onto the floor and as I do so I feel a bit of the glue give on the side closest to the wall.

They must have an experienced crane operator as this only lasts a couple of minutes at most before a loud clang reverberating through the container signals that it has been placed with the others. Seconds later the sounds of the crane wire being unbolted along with the sound of the container being bolted to others assaults my ears causing me to have to put my hands over them.

When they suddenly stop I get to my feet and dash over to the doors. I don't care if I am at my new owners, right now I want OUT of this thing for a moment or two.

Only to find that the door is still locked from the outside as electricity returns along with the lights and the sounds of the terminal booting up again. Grumbling I head back over to the cot and sit down to wait till they decide to unlock it.

My ears swivel towards the sound of someone, no make that multiple people walking up metal stairs nearby. Okay, so I am on the second or higher level of a stack of these residential containers. Possibly at the end of one judging by the sound of them walking across the typical metal gangway that comes with such a setup. Hearing this makes me realize I may have a use for these weird ears. They will allow me to hear anyone coming long before they arrive so I can stop anything I am doing that they don't want me too.

Surprisingly my tail poofs its fur upon hearing them fiddle with the lock on the door. It must be instinct or something because the sound did not scare me nor was it unexpected. On the contrary, I 'want' them to unlock my door so I can get the fuck out of this small space. I take a single step back upon hearing them lift the latch.

Daylight floods into the container as who ever it is outside opens the door. Like all containers it opens outwards to prevent a Bio-Morph from ambushing anyone who enters.

Not that it matters for me since the sunlight temporarily blinds me causing me to back pedal as I rub my eyes to try to get them to adjust.

"Oh her coat is gorgeous! The pictures on the order site didn't do her fur coloration justice, she'll be a good replacement for our former Kitsune themed Bio-Morph Waitress. We will just have to keep an eye out for the customers that order her for private sessions." Then my eyes adjust to the bright sunlight and I see three people standing in the doorway to my residential container. The person who just spoke stands on the right and is an elderly Japanese man in a crisply clean business suit. The slate blue color of it looks closer to black when contrasted against the bright sunlight flooding in behind him. White and gray hairs in a loose but clean hairstyle frame his age ridden face. Despite this his eyes show a person that has not withered mentally compared to their body.

I don't like his face though. The way he is smiling is that of a person looking pleased at his newly bought expensive sports car. Not someone looking at a living and thinking person. His gaze sends shivers down my spine and causes fur to stand more on end than the cool fall air filling the container is causing. To be fair, I was no better in thinking Bio-Morphs were animals or objects until all this shit happened to me. I do hope though that he is not as cruel as his gaze gives off, otherwise this is going to be even more of a hell than I thought.

To his left stands a younger man of a more western looking decent dressed in a similar business suit. Yet his face has traces of some Japanese features, this person must be a relative or something. I am betting son or grandson.

His suit is a light tan color and compared to the elderly person next to him it looks slightly newer. Raven black hair with some streaks of brown lay combed flat and runs from the front of his head to the back where it is tied off in a small pony tail.

His simple and uncaring gaze sends a different shiver down my spine, one of fear. It is a cold and calculating gaze that I stare at as he examines me with his eyes slowly from head to toe and back again. This person has not said a word or even shown any kind of body language indicating anything other than disinterest. I already don't like him and I hope to who ever is listening for him not to be in charge of the Bio-Morphs here or this is going to be hell.

Then there is the person standing on his left and next to the left wall of the residential container. I only call him that because now I know better, otherwise I wouldn't.

His tall stature, which is a head and a half taller than I am makes him looks like the text book example of what I would call a male vulpine Bio-Morph.

This one stands there with an air of confidence and authority that I have never seen exhibited by a Bio-morph in my life. Part of me is telling me to not stand so tall near him and to follow him as I look him over.

Deep rust red colored glossy fur covers his head and ears, except for the tips. They are coal black. A snow white patch of fur starts at his chin and runs down his belly, or at least I assume so considering I can't see how far down it goes due to clothes he is wearing. Clothes, most Bio-Morphs don't wear clothes unless it is needed for what they are being made to do. So why is he wearing some?

Surprisingly it looks like a full kimono. A piece of costly clothing that I would think they would not spend on a slave. The front is covered with stylized waterfalls look woven into the fabric, but it could be printed too. I can't tell from here due to the sunlight coming in from behind them. Standing in stark contrast to his fur and his clothing is a metallic gray bracelet about a half inch wide and thick hanging loosely from his right wrist. It is a tracking bracelet, due to the lack of a collar on him it has to be. So he must be one of their other Bio-Morph slaves.

He turns his attention from me to both of the humans and his ears droop just a few centimeters as he looks at the younger man. Neither of them seem to notice this and I barely caught it myself.

The younger of the two man turns and leaves the other two without a word. The older man only slightly turns his head to watch him leave and the Bio-Morph doesn't even react at all. His face has a small frown of disappointment but that goes away as quickly as it appears before he turns and lays a hand gently on the shoulder of the male vulpine Bio-morph. "I leave this new vixen in your care. Get her dressed in one of the female styled kimono's, then take her to the other waitresses and have them train her. I expect her to be waiting tables by herself tomorrow. From there I expect her to be ready for private sessions by the start of next week. If she causes any serious trouble or is unable to fulfill any of the tasks needed of her I still have till the end of the month to return her for an exchange." After speaking he moves his hand up to gently caress the fur on the back of his head and then ear before lightly patting him on the head. This male vulpine Bio-Morph seems to enjoy this by the look on his muzzle. It fades though as soon as the old man stops and turns to follow the younger man out of my residential container leaving me him alone.

This male vulpine Bio-Morph turns his attention to me not a second after the old man leaves. With it heralds the return of the itch and the feeling in the back of my mind to shrink and look away like I am some scared kid!

His steps toward me are slow and determined, his gaze indifferent but with the hard steel of authority. This aggressive advance on my position forces me to back away from him, yet I have little space to do so in here.

That is until I feel the cold metal of the back wall against my fur. My tail curls up between my legs and covers my crotch while my ears lay flat back against my head as I stare right back at him.

He doesn't seem to care though. He just stares down at me and his eyes and facial expression just screaming authority over me. I have to run, but where too? He is blocking the only path out of here. Not to mention the urge to whine and turn my head is driving me mad! I have to spend almost equal effort to ignore this as I do trying to find an escape route. Before I know it his hand shoots out and latches onto to my upper right arm like a vice and it feels almost as painful as one. Without a noise he starts to drag me out of my residential container.

So I grab onto his arm with both of my hands to try to make him let me go. Only to realize it was a mistake because the second I make contact with his forearm he instantly stops dead in his tracks and whips his head back at me.

His ears are now flat back on his head with his lips pealed back with a snarl. A growl grows in his throat while his tail in comparison only shows a tiny bit of expression by barely even twitching back and forth. I don't even get a chance to even think about returning the growl, the next thing I know he uses the back of his free hand to hit me across my muzzle. Then a yelp escapes my mouth as I am hoisted into the air against the wall of the container before dread fills me.

I watch as he lowers his head, opens his mouth, and moves to place his jaws around my throat.