Weekend at Sofia's: Pawsitively enamored

The  walk didn’t get any easier; not the least because his guide was taking  every opportunity to tease him in public as she went. Dylan was already  struggling to get a read on his location but he certainly was having a  hard time reading the street signs with the doggy’s sultry step swaying  her curved rump right in his face. Not that he could see much more than  that at this damn height. Everyone rose up around him in obscuring  closeness. Maybe not with as thick an.. ahem, trunk as Sofia’s – but he  was acutely aware of having to dodge perilous pendulum tails after  almost being clobbered by a careless kangaroo on a cell phone! 

Maybe the most exhausting part of the whole thing was how  he really had to hustle to keep up with her, even though she made it  pretty apparent that she was slowing her pace. He had voiced a few  nervous “Hey wait,” and “Hold up a moments, please,” which she’d obliged  him, albeit with a bemused glance the whole while. However, he’d been  especially mortified, when panting a bit at the cross walk she had bent  down and taken his hand in hers. The immense palm of the hound had  simply swallowed his fist up; her thumb alone as thick as his fore and  ring fingers. 

“Now, hold on tight Dylie, we’ll cover the cross walk  together,” she’d rumbled in the sweetest, mocking mommy voice she could.  She had the broadest smug smirk curling at the corner of her chops. It  probably was a good thing he was holding on tight – because he could  feel the inches drip off him right then and there. The dwindling hare  hardly had time enough to grab the waistband of his belt as she led him  across the cross walk, with him acutely aware of just how much the cuffs  of his jeans were dragging along the asphalt with every step. 

And his stride did not improve one bit as she led him off  the main street. On the back roads there were less crowd, but he was  rapidly becoming more concerned with just how much less of him there was  as well.      

Sofia's flat was a typical sort; solid brickwork and  refurbished modern vibe set up for cohabitation; although the collie had  managed to acquire the place solo. It suited her lifestyle and her  predilection for bringing work home with her; a fact the bun was  grateful for. 

Looking around the foyer, he gulped nervously. Dylan was  used to the occasional bout of size-shifting, but the way such a  familiarly scene simply loomed around him made him feel all sorts of  dizzy. He recalled distinctly setting his coat on the distant balcony of  the hook above him. Or dropping his keys in the basket on the little  table that he was eye height to here in front of him. A shoe shelf by the  door leered over him and the unattended footwear seemed giant sized to  him. Fe-fi-fo-fum the size of those boots made him feel numb. 

That bout of vertigo was broken only by the soft click of  the door, as Sofia waltzed by him. The muted thump-thumps of her  footfalls on the carpet snapping his attention up. The hound sighed a  bit, futzing with the buttons of her suit jacket; and he looked up in  time to catch it flump over his face. 

“S-sofia?” he squeaked in surprise, struggling with the  oversize overshirt. The cloth was warm with her body heat and felt cozy  to the touch like a blanket. He blushed as well, at the hints of  doggy-pepper musk and sweat that overcame the idle undertones of vanilla  perfume. 

“Hmm?” she offered with a quizzical look over her shoulder.
“Figured  I may as well join you in getting comfortable,” the dog paused,  stepping out of her shoes and brushing them to the side with her  stocking clad toes as she indicated to the pool of clothing around his  feet.
Looking down, Dylan was startled to see his sweater and jeans  pooled around his ankles. Apparently having slide right off his body  while he was too busy gawking at the interior of the dog house. Gasping  in abject embarrassment, he pulled her suit jacket closer to hide his  apparent nudity as she laughed heartily. 

“Hah. No need to be so ashamed bitty-bunny boy. I’m  surprised you managed to keep them on the whole way. I’m sure the  neighbors appreciated it,” She mused, reaching over and grabbing the  shirt collar, tugging it and him further inside when he resisted letting  go. 

If the foyer was large; the interior of the flat was  enormous. The ceiling of the living room stretched up to a windmill of a  fan blade, and the couch seemed more like a parked truck than  furniture. She led him into the kitchen, where the cool tile sucked the  temperature out of his bare pawpads. A paradoxical situation of feeling  simultaneously cold and hot with embarrassment. 

Sitting down the doggy snatched a cigarette from her purse  and struck a match, drawing in a flaring drag. Dylan was partially glad  she hadn’t excused herself for a smoke break. It was a struggle enough  feeling so bewildered in a place so… normal and plain to him. 

“Can I have my shirt back Dylan? I promise I’ll give you  something better to hold if you do,” the doggy teased, pulling at a  sleeve again, when Dylan finally relented with a sheepish, “S-sorry.. I -   ah ! Oh my!” 

No sooner had the doggy pulled her shirt away than had  those great big stocking clad paws sidled up around his sides and smushed  against his shoulders. The doggy grinned down at him and reeled him in  as she tossed the shirt into the living room. The lingering warmth and  latent aroma of her shirt had made him blush. To feel her paws so  directly though? The molten touch of those pad pads pressed through the  silky soft of the stockings; the idle aroma of paw-scent, a curiously  earthy-doggy tang that pierced his senses. It was a distinctly predatory  aroma of canine that stretched instinctual neurons deep in his brain.  Tickling his fight and flight response with undertones of inticey-spicy  allure. He felt her toes scrunch against his cheek fluff, even as they burned beet red beneath his fur. A valiant effort on the part of his  tongue tried to afford him the chance to articulate his thoughts; but  his mind was empty. He emitted the startled gasp-squeak of a mindless  little bunny caught in the brier patch. 

“See isn’t that much better? I noticed you staring the  whole way here; so I figured you might as well enjoy this viewpoint  while it lasts,” she declared, rolling the ball of her foot along his  neck as she leered down her long legs at him. 

“Mm.. but you know – while you’re down there, maybe you  can help me out a little.” She pondered, tapping her chin as she pulled  her feet away from him and crossed her lefts. Dylan almost reached for  them longingly – but stopped him self in time for her to press a single  foot against his chest. She let the fact that her foot all but covered  his rib-cage sink in as he shuddered at her touch. The bunny was pretty  sure she could feel his heartbeat racing under her heel as she laughed  softly and tilted her toes in lightly. 

“These stockings are awfully stuffy. Be a dear and help me  out of them?” Sofia grinned toothily. That dichromatic stare pierced  through him. And, even as he felt a few more inches slip away from him –  Dylan was acutely aware that despite her inflection, Sofia wasn’t  asking.