#surgical assistant

[drjadesargent]

Surgery.

How could it be so hard to become a surgeon? Why is there so many years of school? So many steps....so many years of residency....so many tests, and so many small mistakes that could determine your final outcome of life. I want to take you through the process. So many people go to a four year college to get their bachelors, then go to med school, go through an internship, go through residency, take the "big test" and finally become an attending. However, 18% of people fail out of med school, the acceptance rate of med school is only 43%, and 35% of residents fail their board exams to become a surgeon. Is there a fall back solution? What if you could still be in the OR, help people, and be hands on, but not have the responsibility of all that school and tests? Or if you went through everything you could and came to a halt. Becoming a surgical assistant or surgical tech could be a great job. But how do you become one? The first step to becoming a surgical tech and later a surgical assistant is going to school. There are many tech schools that offer the entire surgical tech program. From there, internships start to spill in, and you land a job at a hospital that could set you up for your long time career. Next, you have a job that makes you good money, you are in the OR, handing the attending the tools necessary to save the lives of many people....but you want to be hands on, looking into the body, because that is your biggest career dream. After being a surgical tech for awhile, there are just a few tests to take to become a surgical assistant. Finally, you are making incisions, placing clamps, and closing incision sites. My biggest dream is to become a surgeon, but if I am part of any of those percents, I would be proud to be a surgical assistant doing everything a surgeon could do, but I would be the one doing it because surgeons NEED that help, but the mistakes are more minor, and it is less school, but lots of hands on experience.

[peachminaj]

I think im gonna start posting my interesting surgery stories on here. Not sure if people would like that but its worth a try 🤷🏽‍♀️

[thecorpuscorpse]

#6- An Anonymous Source

CW: Knife use and blood, some 'fighting', mild kidnapping

It had been two months since the sealed letters began showing up on Villains bedroom window at night when they weren't there. Each one with a different wax embellishment on the front, made of paper worn with time, and never signed. The swirling perfection of the calligraphy was unlike anything Villain had seen before, just like the words they formed. Five letters were stacked on the desk, and the sixth Villain held by the lamplight, eyes scanning over words they always wished to hear. In brief moments, they almost believed them.

The life they lived was not as tender as the words directed at them. There was no beauty in bloodshed- not anymore, at least. Yet, whoever seemed to be hiding in their blind spot thought otherwise. With how long they ran Headquarters, it was refreshing to have a little spice in the routine of wondering who thought so highly of someone as lowly as them.

After sending their squads out for recon, Villain remained tucked away in their office at headquarters to keep an eye on cameras when one detected movement in the server room. Villain knew each employee schedule inside and out- after all, they arranged each one. Within the orchestrated machine-like facility Villain spent so many years building up, the blaring alarm was akin to grinding gears.

Hero.

Every so often, Hero would figure out a new password Villain set, or intercept shipment plans that then would lead Villain to foil Heros plans, and the process would repeat in a few weeks. It was so hard to find good help nowadays, so Villain found handling Hero a nice break from handling paperwork. There was monotony in routine, but at least they could take their impatience with their anonymous admirer out on the other.

"Dammit... now of all times, Hero?" They snapped as they stood from their desk.

As much as the alarm irked them, Villain was more irritated their work was being interrupted. Scanners failed to pick up any DNA trace, leading them to another dead end. Somewhere, someone saw Villain and thought fondly of them. For a while, the simple knowledge of it was enough to qualm the loneliness, but now was more of a curse. They called the author a coward. They called the letters a trap. Yet, Villain headed down the hall to pursue a perpetrator after they stayed up until four in the morning... again... to read the letters in hope something would tell them who claimed to adore them so.

The door to the server room was ajar, main lights turned out. The dull glow of blinking red, blue and yellow lights cast shadows on the wall in varied patterns. The main lights were shorted, forcing them to identify misplaced figures in the dim light. It only dug further into Villains impatience with the matter. Against the low hum of the computers, a tinny clank echoed near the back wall.

Villain kept steady strides slow, mindful of the linoleum under their shoes and how quiet their breath was. Silence, as well as any leverage, was better than none, and it worked to Villains virtue when it guided the blade to the turned back of who they knew was tampering with their tech.

"I don't have time for you tonight, Hero," Villain said as they pressed the knife against their spine. "There is plenty of work for me as is without you getting involved."

Dressed in all-black, which happened to be quite flattering for the Hero, they tuned after setting their tools down and raising their hands. Villain took a step forward and pressed the edge to their throat.

"That's why I figure I'd lighten the load~" Hero said, offering an innocent shrug. "By-"

"Yes, yes, thwarting my recruitment of more people through disrupting our log system," Villain droned, pressing the blade harder. "Now really, I do have pressing matters to attend to."

There was a static in the air, and not from the whirring machines around them. The more Villain stood in it, the more irritated they got. It showed in the quick right cross-swing of butt-end of the knife towards Heros head before the move was blocked by Heros hand.

"Wow, whats the matter with you?" Hero mused with a shit-eating grin as he twisted Villains arm into a lock behind their back. The knife clattered onto the floor. "Not very like you to 'not have time for me', Villain. Plus, what a sloppy execution."

"You don't know me, Hero," Villain hummed with a smile in their voice, flexing their hand under Heros grip. "So I'll show you a real sloppy execution."

Villain dug their heel into Heros foot, and used the momentum to twist them to slam into the server paneling. With the grip loosened, Villain snaked away and went for the knife. It was only a second more before Villain was swept off their feet- literally- and hit the ground.

"Yeah, that was pretty sloppy too," Hero said as they went to further restrain the fallen Villain. "You're making me jealous, don't tell me there's another Hero you have to go cause havoc for~ Ugh, I'll be heartbroken!"

Villain struggled against Heros grasp, writhing and twisting their body so they could never get a solid pin. While Hero had their brawn at their side, Villain knew it was only a matter of leverage.

"I do, but they aren't a Hero~"

They took the moment Hero stalled in their attempts to pin them down to get their lets out to kick Hero back, knocking the wind out of them. Villain went for the knife again and came up behind Hero to hold the knife to their throat again.

"Bullshit," Hero gasped out, though an amused smile graced their stupid face. "I can barely tolerate you as it is."

Villain contemplated for a moment. What harm would a white lie do when they didn't even know who was writing the letters? There would be no one else to go after. It would be nice to pretend- Villain did it enough as it was.

"Oh, you should hear how they talk about their love for my vile and vulgar ways Hero. How they adore the plans of misery I make for the thousands," Villain gripped Heros hair and tilted their head back to look at them proper. "And the tongue they have..."

"Then why aren't you with them now?"

"Because I'm dealing with you," Villain said as their jaw set. "A thorn in my side since we crossed paths, and always coming back like a damn infection," They brought the edge up against Heros neck. "You are pestiferous- a plague in my life every time your head pops up." Villain narrowed their eyes, bringing small beads of blood against the blade. "And I think I'm going to purge the source tonight."

"Then do it."

Below them, there was a rumble followed by a blaring alarm from what Villain assumed was a few floors down. It only took one distracted second for Hero grab Villains wrist and flip them over and onto their back before they dove behind a rack of server blocks. There was a flash, and the room filled with smoke. The colors against the smoke were disorienting, yet once Villain got hold of their knife, they could barely make out a figure escaping through one of the vents.

"One thing after a-fucking-nother..." Villain hissed as they ran out from the server room and towards the blaring fire alarm down below.

Once done dealing with the aftermath of a blown-apart storage unit, Villain trudged back up to their office and collapsed in their chair. It was now six in the morning, and looking at the camera they had set up to face their bedroom window at home- no letter to be seen on the window. They pushed their hair back with a sigh, before deciding to freshen up there, and continuing their monotonous work for their empire, with breaks reading loving words Villain needed to hear after such a long night.

---

The seventh letter was different than the rest.

It had taken longer than the rest to arrive- almost a month later than the last one, when the others came once or twice a week. Nights were seemingly endless when Villain would simply stare at the window from the camera. They knew if they were home, they wouldn't arrive, and so they worked long into the night, going home every few days to make sure their plants were watered.

Unlike the other ornate and delicately put together envelopes, the newest came in a simple black one. The handwriting was reminiscent of the others yet the words scrawled unsteadily. The droning news anchor in the background discussed the impending weather as Villain attempted to make sense of everything they were reading.

What was said was not the romantic poetry they were used to, of regrets and promises they wished to keep to Villain of seeing them, of truly being with them and being sure there would be nothing keeping them apart anymore.

The signature at the bottom made Villains heart sink. Not because of who had written the confession they read. Not because it was from someone they wouldn't have wanted at all. But because it wasn't a signature at all.

Except a smear of blood.

Villains head felt light, the corners of their vision hazing a little as they tried to make sense of what it all meant. They sat down in their chair, still staring at the letter before them. It wasn't until the news anchor interrupted their broadcast with breaking news.

'The beloved and respected savior of our beautiful city, Hero, has officially been pronounced dead today by coroners after their body had been returned to city officials by an anonymous source. Further details the cause to be released.'

"No..."

They took a long look at the radio, eyes wide in disbelief as their mind began to piece everything together. In a moment, they were at their sequencer and after they got a sample of the paper, pulled out their knife. What little blood left from their fight with Hero remained, and they flaked off the dry remains in the other bottle. Time blurred as they waited, walking crop circles into their carpet while the machine processed the samples.

They didn't see anyone on the cameras the night before. No sound, no disturbance. First nothing was on the window, and when daylight broke, there it was. They hadn't dealt with Hero recently, which they only grew to notice the more they thought.

They couldn't settle down, and any time their office door was knocked on, they would simply throw a book at it and tell whoever it was to bother them tomorrow. Word must have gone around because soon the knocking stopped and Villain was left alone with the machine, which whirred just like the servers did their last night with Hero.

They were pulled out of their mind when the machine stopped, and the face glowed green with the information Villain already put together in their walk about their office.

DNA Sequencing Completed- Results: 100% Match

---

Villain drummed their thumb against the steering wheel of the car. Occasionally, it would follow the tempo of their racing heart, or the shake in their muscles from the adrenaline in their blood. The timer they set on their phone for five minutes was halfway through. Villain regretted even permitting that much time to wait. It had been too long already, and with any more time, they could be too late.

Three minutes and no sign. Villain shifted in their seat, instead now tapping their foot and squeezing their hands together. The last they slept was indistinct, waiting for the right moment to make their next move. A drastic one, which would leave more loose ends than they would like, but it was just as a drastic situation they had on their hands.

Four minutes and Villain was getting ready to get out and handle the ordeal themselves. They checked to make sure their gun was loaded, as they did a dozen or so times before even though they hadn't used it. Before they reached the door handle, the passenger side opened to Villains relief.

"Very good. Hurry up." Villain said, gesturing with the gun to get in.

Five minutes was all Villain needed. As they sped off, the silence was cushioned by the low hum of the car. Villain didn't know what to think. What to say. What if, in the time they were gone, Hero was too? The thoughts were heavy as Villain drove, until their passenger pulled them out of their head.

"I shouldn't be doing this..."

"Then why are you." Villain said, rather than asked.

"Well, you told me with a gun to my head that you hunt me down and kill my girlfriend in front of me, then send my body parts to various family members."

"Good memory, and I will if you make any attempts to run."

"Good to know..." The accomplice said with a tight-lipped smile before looking down at the bag.

"And... I'm helping someone, aren't I?" They asked after another moment of passing silence. "Someone you care about?"

There was a thick lump that sunk into Villains throat. It irked them to know they had to get outside sources with such a high risk, but they were pushed to no other choice. They offered a single, but humble nod before turning off onto a dirt road.

"What the fuck did you say you did again?"

"I'm a first assistant," they said as they shuffled the medical bag on their lap while twisting the handles nervously. "Not quite a surgeon, but I'm getting there."

"Of course, I pick up the intern in the operating room..." Villain uttered as they watched the road. The car, being small, only allowed the young surgeon to hear the remark clearly.

"The operating rooms of the ICU," they huffed a bit too confidently for Villains liking. "Much more intense and less room for error. I mostly make sure the room is clean but I do help with sutures, and other general care."

With a less than patient sigh, Villain parked the car in the driveway and looked the young surgeon square in the face, gun held towards them with a finger threatening pressure on the trigger.

"Keep your attitude in check, and keep them alive." They said flatly. "Both the person I'm bringing you to, and your girlfriend."

It had just been the two of them since Hero showed up battered, beaten and bloodied just two weeks before. They hadn't gotten better and while Villain was good at many things, medical diagnosis weren't one of them. They took leave from work to get Hero somewhere more secluded than Villains home closer to the city.

When Hero was awake, Villain limited themselves to one question because Hero would get winded from speaking too much. Day by day, they learned how Hero wanted things to be different, not only for themselves only, but between the two. How they grew to love Villain, admire them and respect them, to want them yet be restricted from doing so. Hero detailed how they convinced a select few to assist them in faking their death with a glow which made Villain hopeful, but then Hero fell asleep before telling them how it went, and hadn't woke up since. It'd been three days.

With a nervous nod in understanding, the two got out of the car, and Villain walked the man to the house with a gun drawn on them the entire way. Sleepless nights were still to come, yet there was a bit more relief in knowing Hero stood more of a chance now. Villain hoped they didn't make a mistake, for Hero wouldn't be able to survive it.

[knifekris]

every day i struggle to make choices

[dreamlogic]

2024 year of charlie gets a fucking break (hopefully. maybe. tbd.)

[mangedog]

gender transition: hysterectomy in Tas, AUS

It's rare to see any experiences of gender transition outside of the US, and when I do find Australian experiences there's none from my state, Tasmania. So I thought I'd share my experience in getting a hysterectomy. I won't go over the Australian medical system, google that if you need to (it's pretty similar to the UK system if you're familiar with that). Long post with surgery details ahead!

On the 17th of January 2023 I had a laparoscopic hysterectomy. I had everything removed (uterus, Fallopian tubes, ovaries, and cervix - so a hysterectomy with bilateral salipingo-oophorectomy) with a cystoscopy (micro-camera examination of bladder to make sure ureters are intact) at the end of surgery.

Pre-Surgery Consults

First step was going to my GP to ask for a referral. I was referred to the Royal Hobart Hospital (RHH)'s gynaecology department on the 10th of March 2022.

I had my first consult with Dr. Irena Nikakis on the 14th of July 2022, in which she said she was happy to do a hysto but didn't want to take my ovaries. We "compromised" and she said she would do the hysto in one operation, and then remove the ovaries at a later date. I wasn't happy with this - it seemed like a weird way to go about it, and I didn't want to have 2 major surgeries when I could have just 1 for the same effect - but I agreed anyway. I left the consult glad that she agreed to the hysto, but annoyed at that she didn't want to take the ovaries at the same time (and also because I'd gotten there 15 minutes early but she was an hour late with no explanation).

She wanted me to have a psychiatric consult before booking the surgery in, which I had with the sexual health clinic (Clinic 60 in Hobart). Pretty standard stuff, just went over if I was able to consent to surgery and meet the WPATH criteria and so on.

I had my second consult with Dr. Nikakis on the 13th September 2022, when I was put on the public hospital general priority waitlist (meaning the wait time would be within a year / 365 days). She said if I hadn't had the operation within 6 months I would get a phone call to see if I still wanted it.

Some weeks later I got a phone call asking if I wanted to be under a contract the RHH has with Hobart Private Hospital, where public patients are processed through the private system at no cost to them (in order to try and get through the backlog of patients they have on public waitlists). Since it wouldn't make a difference to me I said yes.

I then had a consult with Dr Tim Hasted on the 13th of December 2022, at Calvary St. John's Private Hospital where his office was. I asked him if he could take my ovaries at the same time and he was fine with that. I also asked if we could forgo the speculum at the 8 week post-op check up, which he was also fine with as long as there was no bleeding by then. My surgery was booked at this consult, for the 17th of January 2023.

Surgery

The day of operation, I arrived at Hobart Private Hospital at my instructed admission time of 1pm. I had been told to fast from food from 7am and water from 9am, but I woke up late and had a sip of water at around 10am for my medication (and therefore didn't have any food at all). They were fine with that. I waited for about 20 minutes in the waiting room, when they did the admission forms. Then I waited for another 20 minutes or so, when they did more paperwork. Then after another 20 minutes or so I was taken to my private room which had its own bathroom (I wish I could be a private patient all the time, it was way nicer than a shared ward!).

I waited in the room for about two hours (my mum came to visit me so we just chatted, and then once she left I read a book). Then the nurse came at 4:15pm and told me they were getting ready for me, so I put on the hospital gown (naked underneath) and sat on the bed. The nurse and someone who I think was an orderly wheeled my bed to a pre-op room where they put the blood clot prevention stockings on and went over the paperwork about three more times (asking what operation I was having and if I had any allergies or reactions to anaesthetic, etc). The anesthesiologist and her assistant both visited me to introduce themselves, and Dr. Hasted popped in as well. After 10-15 minutes of waiting they wheeled me in to the theatre.

My surgery was at about 4:30pm. They warned me that the operating room would be cold (and it was), so they put a heated blanket in my bed. They lined the bed up with the operating table and got me to shuffle over onto it (it was a bit awkward and I was trying not to let my gown slide up so I wouldn't flash them all with my naked ass lol...). They undid the knots of the gown so they could take it off when I was asleep. They put the cannula in the crook of my left elbow (since I'm right handed). The nurse said she was going to put some "relaxing medicine" in the cannula, and then the anaesthetic. I felt her putting it in, it was cold, but for about 30 seconds I didn't feel any different. Then suddenly I was hit with this wave of dizziness and felt really out of it. That's the last thing I remember.

After Surgery

I woke up in the pre-op room I was in before they took me to surgery, they were asking me to rate my pain out of 10. I couldn't speak (because of the intubation and also I was still really out of it) so I held up my fingers to say 7. I felt vaguely nauseous but I didn't need any anti-nausea medication. I think they gave me some pain medication but I don't remember. Then I woke up again in my room, where I think they were asking me again about the pain. I slept on and off for about 4 hours I think. I remember asking for some painkillers and the nurse said I couldn't have more because it was 8:45pm (?) and I had to wait 6 hours between the strong medication. I think I had some Panadol (paracetamol) instead. The nurses had to come in every 30 minutes for the 4 hours post-op to check on me and take my blood pressure and temperature.

Eventually I woke up properly at around 10pm. I was alone in the room and in a lot of pain so I pressed the call button for the nurse. I kept forgetting and moving my arm that had the cannula in which was attached to the IV drip, which made the IV machine go off because the line wasn't straight. My throat wasn't sore but I couldn't really speak. I drank a lot of water. At one point I woke up and there was a food tray with sandwiches, two small bottles of orange juice and apple juice, a container with some crackers, cheese and grapes in it, and a little tub of ice cream on my bedside tray. I had the ice cream which had melted by then but I couldn't swallow the cheese or bread properly so I just left it since I wasn't hungry anyway.

I slept some more until around 3am. I was in a lot of pain (around 6 or 7/10) so I asked for some medication when the nurse came in. I think I got some of the strong pain meds (I don't remember what they were called, Duodene or something?) three times over the night and some Panadol as well. I had pain in my abdomen but also in my back at one point (I think because of the gas but also because I hadn't moved for hours). I became aware that I had a catheter in, and it was really weird not being able to tell if I was peeing or not. I would feel a vague need to pee but then it would go away and I couldn't tell if it was because I had actually peed into the catheter or if I just didn't need to go anymore. I couldn't sleep for more than half an hour at a time, and as it got closer to sunrise I slept less and less. My pain by this point was about 4/10 so it was uncomfortable but manageable. I was pretty thirsty, but I'd run out of water, and it was also hot in the room but I couldn't get up to turn the thermostat down.

At 5:30am the nurse came in to tell me that they would take the catheter out at 6am. She helped me out of bed and got me to walk around a bit. I was shaky and weak but I could walk ok. Then when she took out the catheter I was nervous (didn't want anyone poking about down there!) but she explained what she was doing and it was pretty quick. She un-inflated a little balloon in the tube and then pulled it out, which stung but was over quickly. She took the bags (2 of them, both completely full, I had apparently peed a LOT during the hours I had it in lol) and I managed to go to the toilet by myself. It stung like hell and I only managed a little bit, and it was extremely bloody. Over the next few hours I had to keep peeing and they had to measure my pee and do a bladder scan to make sure I was emptying my bladder. It took a long time, but by 10am or so I didn't have to have any more scans.

At around 8 or 9am I had breakfast, which was scrambled eggs so it went down easily. I still wasn't feeling hungry but I felt better after eating so I guess I was. At some point Dr. Hasted came in and talked to me about the surgery. He said it all went well, except it took longer than expected because I had a "very small" cervix which made it trickier for them (since they were removing the organs by pulling them through the cervix, then removing the cervix itself and sewing the leftover hold shut - a vaginal cuff). I was able to have a shower, but I hadn't brought any shampoo or soap because I thought I wouldn't be allowed to shower for a few days.

I was discharged at around 1pm, after lunch (which I managed to eat all of despite not really wanting to after half of it). I had a painkiller before I left since I live an hour away from the hospital. It was the same kind I got a prescription of from the hospital pharmacy (Palexia IR 50mg, which is tapentadol). Made me feel a bit drowsy. The carpark was across the street, and I was feeling fine so figured I would have no problem walking there. But a few times I felt a bit lightheaded, and I waited at the exit of the carpark for my dad to drive down and pick me up instead of me going up to where the car was. I had to lean against the wall so that was a good idea. I didn't put my binder back on when I got dressed so I was standing awkwardly with my arms crossed to hide my boobs, but that was ok because it gave my abdomen support as well.

It hurt when we went over any bumps on the ride home, but it was ok. I surprisingly didn't go to sleep until 8pm, which since I'd been up since 3am was weird, but I guess I'd slept a lot the afternoon of surgery. I had some pain in the night and took a Palexia, but since I can only have either 1 every 4 hours or 2 every 6 hours, I have to space them out more than I'd like.

Post-Op

I feel surprisingly good. I was worried that I'd regret it - I knew I didn't want kids but I was worried I'd regret removing the option to have biological kids. But I don't regret it now and I didn't then either. I was (and am) so relieved that no matter what, I will never have a period again and there's no risk of ovarian cysts (I have PCOS - yes, weirdly enough, I still have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome despite no longer having ovaries, since it's an (not very well named) endocrine disorder as well as reproductive), no risk of cancer on any of those parts… such a freeing feeling. Unfortunately, it feels like I'm having a really bad period (abdominal pain, bleeding, fatigue etc.) which is dysphoric but knowing why this is happening and knowing it can never happen again is really helpful. It's kinda weird having such a major surgery but no outward differences except for a few incisions (one in my bellybutton, one on either side, and one underneath, and there's one internal one at the top of the vagina where the cervix was). As happy as I am to have it, I kinda wish it had been top surgery since that's my number 1 source of dysphoria (reproductive organs were the lowest priority in terms of transition for me, but just happened to be the easiest to get done and therefore came first).

I'm writing this almost exactly 72 hours after surgery. Still some pain, getting in and out of bed is a bit painful, and I don't have much of an appetite. I have a heating pad on my abdomen at the moment which is nice (and a cat on my lap, even better!). I might try and have a nap soon. All in all, it was easier than I expected, I wasn't misgendered (even had my gender marked as male on my wristband) except for one time indirectly when Dr. Hasted said "women who have this - oh sorry, people who have this...". And because it was through the public health system, it was completely free!

I'm not allowed to drive for a month (because if I crash my car insurance won't cover anything), the estimated recovery time is 6 weeks, and I have a post-op check up with Dr. Hasted in 8 weeks. I'm told that bowel function will take a while to return, but if I haven't had a movement by Friday (tomorrow) to take some laxatives. (I have been farting passing wind though which is a good sign - it means the gas they pump into your abdomen so they can see is moving out).

Feel free to ask any questions (or just say hi, especially if you're a trans Tasmanian)!

Here's @transgenderteensurvivalguide's hysterectomy info page, and here's hysto.net, which is a hysterectomy info site for trans people.

[centi-pedve]

hiiiiiiiiiiii!! Did Joseph choose the design of his wings? i guess they were linked to genes and mutation so maybe he couldnt choose...

regardless, do Joseph's parents like . babyproof the claws on his wings? Those bad boys are POINTY and not really suitable for 10 year-olds methinks ... i dont want my boyo to get hurtie sniffles

yess he did! the way their society has developed it, aesthetic changes can be performed like how we do normal surgery, just much more advanced, or genetically, but that typically has certain limitations (easier to change certain aspects of already existing traits than create entirely new ones). joseph's aesthetic alterations were surgical, so his body was manually remade where necessary to enable the construction of wings that also function (aka he can move them and they're an extension of his body with nerves and shit rather than just something taped on.) we imagine he'd probably need some sort of additional help when it comes to growth though because his body can't do that by itself. aka expensive both initially and for upkeep oughh 🤕 meanwhile five has an aesthetic alteration in his hair that's more genetic, so he wasn't born with hair like that or had anyone in his family which would allow hair like that, but since his actual genes have been altered his hair now naturally grows white/black and it can be passed on to any kids he might have. if joseph did gain wings through more natural means so that any genetic traits he had prior would determine color, he could also choose to have those traits altered so that his wings would look different.

he specifically chose his wings to appear the way they do because of the connection to a highly respected group revolving around justice that considers themselves modern day knights, whose members all take care to resemble green dragons. it's both formal and informal i.e. there's an actual organization of proper members who are fully connected to each other, and people who aren't a part of the actual org but subscribe to their beliefs and align with them both in appearance and behavior. other aesthetic changes come with certain associations by result of people being people, so while it's entirely possible and fine to just want the green dragon vibe while not caring for the org, people will still assume you're associated. stuff like that would probably manifest in a lot of different ways, like people assuming you're a fan of a celebrity because you have a similar added trait that a celebrity has, or thinking you're annoying because you have pink hair and everyone who gets pink hair is annoying duhh, etc etc. but in this case it's an association joseph wants, even though some people might see it as a bad thing.

and they do not 😇 he'd probably go crazy if they tried babyproofing it and would just remove it. tbh he'd probably accidentally hurt other people more than he would hurt himself... kind of just one of those things he has to be aware of so he probably knows how to watch where his claws are atp.

[singlethread]

.

[talesofmetamorphosis]

Victoria's Dog (Semi-Realistic Dog TF)

Involuntary Surgical and Behavioral Dog TF, Slow, Somewhat Grotesque.

Victoria sat by the window, her gaze fixed on her sleepy suburban street. Her daughter Amelia was packing her belongings in her room, preparing to embark on a new adventure. The excitement in Amelia's voice as she discussed her plans with friends and family was palpable, but Victoria couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling that was building within her.

She watched as the occasional car passed, or someone walked by with their child or pet, each lost in their own world, unaffected by the tumultuous emotions churning inside Victoria. She had always known that this day would come, that her daughter would spread her wings and leave the nest. Yet, no amount of preparation could soften the blow she felt was impending.

With a sigh, Victoria rose from her seat and walked over to her desk. She picked up her phone and hesitated for a moment. She knew what she was about to do wasn't entirely conventional, but her desperation for a solution overshadowed any reservations. Her fingers tapped out the familiar number, and she held the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" a voice answered on the other end, and Victoria's heart raced.

"Does tonight work for you?" she inquired, her tone betraying a mixture of anxiety and determination.

The voice on the other end responded affirmatively, once again outlining what would be done before the night was up. As she listened, a sense of relief washed over her. It was as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and her plan solidified into inevitability.

"Thank you," Victoria whispered into the phone, her voice trembling ever so slightly.

With that, she ended the call and placed the phone back on the desk. The room seemed quieter now, the outside world carrying on as usual. But Victoria knew that she had set something in motion, something that would ensure her precious daughter would never leave her.

Evening was there before they knew it, a tranquil ambiance cast over them as they settled down for dinner. The aroma of the meal filled the air, creating a façade of normalcy despite the undercurrents of Victoria's secret agenda. As they exchanged anecdotes about the day, Victoria navigated the conversation toward the topic that had been consuming her thoughts and was soon to become a non-issue.

"Baby," she began casually, "I just want to say how proud I am of you, it’s such a big step to move out."

"Yeah, Mom. I can't wait to have my own space, you know? Explore new things, meet new people."

Victoria nodded, masking her internal turmoil behind a supportive smile. She had already taken the first step towards solving this problem. As the conversation flowed, she watched Amelia's every movement, waiting for the first sign of her plan coming into effect.

As they chatted, the effects of the medication she had slipped into her daughter’s drink gradually took hold. Amelia's eyelids grew heavy, and her speech began to slow. Victoria maintained her facade, watching her daughter's struggle with a calculated concern.

"You seem tired," she remarked, her tone a blend of empathy and manipulation. "Why don’t you go lay down and I’ll clean up here?"

Amelia blinked sleepily, her guard weakening under the influence of the drug. "Yeah, Mom. I think I overdid it with packing today."

“Sleep tight baby girl” Victoria said with a small grin to Amelia’s back as she rose from the table and retreated back to her room. Getting up herself, she began tidying up after dinner, doing dishes and wiping down the table and counter. When she was done, she headed down the hall, glad her daughter hadn’t managed to close her door before she inevitably passed out,

In her room Amelia was passed out on top of her comforter, having likely walked from the table to her bed and fallen asleep immediately. Victoria eyed the packed boxes with distaste, they wouldn’t be necessary anymore but the facade would need to remain for now. Giving her daughter a kiss on the forehead, she retreated from the room and went to grab her phone, redialing the familiar number and putting the phone to her ear.

“Are you here?” She asked when the number picked up. With an affirmative answer she hung up the phone once again, heading over to the door and opening it just as a car that had been parked across the street turned it’s headlights on and pulled into their driveway.

It had been a twist of fate that one of Victoria’s best friends happened to be a doctor, well, a veterinarian anyway, and when Victoria had been venting to her one day, she just happened to have just the answer to her problem. Because as an accomplished veterinarian, Dr. Hartfeld, or Ellie to Victoria, was as unscrupulous as she was medically proficient.

Ushering her into the house, Ellie followed Victoria into Amelia’s bedroom, where they both looked down at the sleeping girl.

“Good job” She told the girl’s mother, walking up to Amelia and grabbing her face, the medication keeping her sleeping soundly even as the doctor turned her face side to side, giving her cheeks a little squeeze.

“And you’re sure this is gonna work?” Victoria asked nervously, as she had many times since they had first planned for it.

“Vic, this isn’t my first rodeo” Was all she replied, and Victoria knew she didn’t want the details on what else her friend had been doing. At the moment though her friend was turning her daughter over onto her side, sliding up the back of her shirt to expose her bare back. Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew a syringe, and it was with a practiced ease that she uncapped it and with some scientific prodding to determine the correct area, pushed the needle into her daughter’s back, practically into her spine and depressing the plunger part of the way, leaving two thirds of what she had injected remaining in the syringe before withdrawing it. Victoria watched anxiously as her friend progressed to pulling her daughter’s pants to her ankles with some difficulty, if it had been anyone else she would have objected all day, but with Ellie, she knew she was doing exactly what she had requested as she did much the same near the back of each of Amelia’s knees.

“Okay, there we go.” Ellie said as she began pulling Amelia’s pants back up and rolling her back into a more natural position. “Don’t look so nervous babes, you’re never gonna lose your good girl.” She reassured Victoria, capping the syringe and holding it in her hand for later disposal before giving Victoria a kiss on the cheek. “I have an appointment for you tomorrow around noon.” She finished before leaving Victoria alone with her drugged daughter. She stood there staring for quite a while, wondering if she had made the right decision but a glance to her packed boxes assured her she had. When she finally left the room she found herself unable to get past her nervous energy and fall asleep, but she was resolute in not feeling an ounce of regret.

The next morning found Victoria restless, her mind a battleground of doubt and determination. As dawn broke, she stood in her dimly lit kitchen, clutching her coffee mug as if seeking solace from its warmth. The events of the previous night weighed heavily on her, but there was no turning back now.

Amelia's voice called out in panic from her bedroom, jolting Victoria from her reverie. With a deep breath, she composed herself and hurried to her daughter's aid. Upon entering the room, the sight that met her eyes sent a slight pang of guilt rippling through her.

Amelia lay on the bed, her face contorted in a mixture of confusion and discomfort. Her legs were twisted at odd angles, and her attempts to straighten them seemed futile. Victoria's heart clenched as she approached, her own exhaustion overshadowed by her daughter's predicament, even though she had caused it.

"Mom," Amelia's voice trembled, "something's wrong. I can't… I can't move my legs properly, and my back feels all twisted."

Victoria fought to maintain her composure, her mind racing for an explanation that wouldn't betray the truth. She knelt beside Amelia's bed, her eyes filled with a half-feigned concern.

"Amelia, it's going to be okay," she said, her voice oozing reassurance. "Just take a deep breath. Can you try to sit up for me?"

Amelia attempted to comply, but her efforts were met with frustration. Her body resisted, her muscles seemingly refusing to obey her commands.

"I… I can't, Mom," Amelia's voice quivered, her panic palpable.

Victoria's heart ached, masking her conflict behind a facade of sympathy. She looked over her daughter’s body as if she didn’t know the answer to her predicament. "Can you try getting on all fours? It might help relieve the tension."

Amelia hesitated, her eyes searching Victoria's face for answers. With a tentative nod, she slowly maneuvered herself into a position on her hands and knees on her bed. To Victoria's relief, Amelia seemed relatively comfortable in this posture.

"There you go," Victoria encouraged, her words dripping with a calculated mix of empathy and authority. “I'll call the doctor and get you an appointment immediately, do you think you can get down off the bed?"

“Uhm… yeah I think so.” Amelia answered, looking down off the bed, manuevering herself backwards so she could slide off the bed back to her position on all fours.

“Okay, you wanna come to the living room? You should probably eat before we go, I have some eggs and toast made, maybe I can set your plate on the coffee table?” She offered.

“Uh, yeah, okay, I guess.” she replied dejectedly, following after her mother on her hands and knees.

Victoria was so conflicted, her daughter was hurting, certainly, but how could she ever leave her when she’d never be able to stand on two legs again? Was it extreme? Absolutely, but now Amelia would be dependent on her for everything, which filled her with giddy excitement.

Amelia's dejected form followed Victoria into the living room, her body now confined to the unfamiliar posture. Thankfully her expression didn't betray pain; instead, it exuded a blend of resignation and melancholy. As she settled next to the couch, Amelia lowered her head to rest against the edge of the couch, her gaze cast downward.

It didn’t take long for Victoria to bring her daughter the plate of food she had already prepared, setting it in front of her on the couch cushion.

Amelia managed a small, grateful smile as she attempted to grasp the fork. Her arms were functioning, but not ideally, making the task a challenge, but she managed to navigate the fork to her mouth. Each bite seemed like a test of will. Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Victoria pretended to make a phone call to schedule a the appointment. She recited pleasantries and agreed upon a date and time, all while no one was even on the line. . Returning to the living room, Victoria held an expression of feigned relief. "I've managed to schedule an appointment with the doctor, it’s in an hour. We’re gonna get you the help you need love."

Amelia's eyes brightened just barely at the news, a glimmer of hope amid her otherwise somber state. Victoria watched her daughter, a mixture of genuine concern and glee as she took a seat next to the plate and stroked her daughter’s head.

When she was finished eating, the room held an air of strained normalcy as she nestled her head onto her mother's leg while they watched tv as they awaited the impending doctor's appointment.

As the minutes ticked by, the time finally arrived for their journey to the doctor. With a gentle touch, Victoria guided Amelia out to the garage. Amelia's struggles were evident as she tried to maneuver herself into the back seat of the car. With some help she managed to get onto the backseat and position herself on her side, unable to buckle up due to her constraints.

The drive to the doctor's office was a mix of subdued conversation and tangible tension. Upon arrival, Amelia cast a curious glance at the unfamiliar building. "Mom, this isn't the usual doctor's office," she remarked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Victoria, quick on her feet, responded with a casual smile. "Yeah, our old place is out-of-network now, but this place has fantastic reviews."

Amelia's curiosity seemingly satisfied, they entered the nondescript building, looking around to see if anyone saw the woman crawling on her hands and knees. Inside, there was little sign that it was a doctor's office of any renown – tiny waiting room that was mostly reception desk. Behind the desk was Ellie, who Victoria feigned not knowing, thankful Amelia had never met her friend. Ellie put on a masterful show of concern before leading the mother-daughter duo into the backroom that seemed more reminiscent of a veterinarian's examination room than a doctor’s office, primarily because it was one. Amelia's condition made questioning her surroundings a secondary concern.

Amelia's eyes wandered around the room, taking in the details as Ellie set up a small set of stairs next to the examination table which was in the center of the room, not against the wall like she was used to. With no proding, Amelia knew what she was expected to do, moving to the table and climbing the stairs with some difficulty ending up on all fours on the table, feeling every bit like an animal.

Ellie's voice was professional yet empathetic tone as she began to ask Amelia a series of questions about what had led to her current state. Her inquiries were punctuated with moments of concern, her words calculated to elicit both information and trust, even though she was well aware what the issue was.

Amelia's responses were tinged with a sense of vulnerability, her voice uncertain.

"Amelia, in order to properly assess your situation, I'll need you to remove your clothes," Ellie's request was delivered with a matter-of-fact air, her expression all professionalism.

Amelia's gaze flicked between Ellie and Victoria, uncertainty evident in her eyes. "Amelia, I can step outside if you'd prefer some privacy." her mother offered.

Amelia hesitated, her features creased in thought. "Actually, Mom, could you stay?" Her voice held a hint of vulnerability, a desire for her mother's presence in this unfamiliar territory.

Victoria nodded solumnly, secretly overjoyed as her daughter expressed her emotional reliance on top of the physical. Together, they gently assisted Amelia in removing her clothes, a joint effort that seemed to reinforce the intricate balance between maternal affection and strategic manipulation.

Once Amelia was unclothed, Ellie's focus shifted to a more thorough examination. She guided Amelia to extend her legs and straighten her body, her instructions met with visible effort but next to no success. Ellie's trained eyes assessed Amelia's joints and movements, her touch both clinical and calculated.

As the examination progressed, Ellie's professional mask slipped slightly, revealing a flicker of intrigue beneath her exterior of concern, though Victoria was the only one who noticed. Her hands moved with practiced precision, palpating joints and muscles as if deciphering a puzzle.

"Alright, Amelia," Ellie's voice held a mix of assurance and seriousness. "I've taken some initial measurements and observed your range of motion. I'm going to take a small blood sample. We'll run some tests to get a clearer picture of what might be causing this."

After Ellie extracted the blood sample, she assured them they would have the results soon, though that was for Amelia’s benefit considering the results would never be coming. "In the meantime, I’m gonna prescribe you an injection that should hopefully relieve some of the tension in your joints, but it isn’t a miracle drug, my primary recommendation is try to rest as much as you can."

After helping her down from the table, they left the office, Victoria carried the white paper prescription bag, its contents heavy in her hand, testament to her extreme desired outcome. Amelia's mood had dampened even more noticeably, her eyes clouded with a deep sense of despondency. The weight of her situation bore down on her, a truth that had settled in during the course of the examination. She was trapped like this, her autonomy completely out the window when she had previously been about to have practically unlimited autonomy..

As they returned home, the atmosphere seemed to mirror Amelia's subdued demeanor, despite her mother’s reassurances. Without any response, Amelia retreated to her room, the silence punctuated only by the echo of her movements.

Victoria on the other hand was practically dancing as she went through her daily routine, she’d never lose her darling girl now, she’d always be dependent on her. Part of her was conflicted, but only a small part, which was shrinking with every demonstration.

Eventually, Amelia's call disrupted the quiet of the house. Victoria responded instantly, making her way to the bathroom where Amelia had called for her.

Amelia's voice trembled as she sat on her knees in front of the toilet. "Mom, I can't… I can't use the toilet like this. My legs and back, I just can't."

Victoria's expression registered feigned surprise, a calculated blend of concern and helplessness. "Oh, I’m so sorry sweetheart. Are you sure you can’t?"

Amelia's eyes pleaded for a solution, her vulnerability laid bare. "I don't know what to do, Mom. I can't even walk properly."

A pause hung in the air, pregnant with an idea that was in both of their heads with vastly different emotions. Then, Victoria's voice cut through the silence, a suggestion offered with feigned reluctant pragmatism. "Well, for now, maybe… maybe you could use the backyard. Just until we figure out something better."

Amelia's hesitation was palpable, her internal struggle evident in the furrow of her brow. But after a moment, she nodded, her acquiescence a testament to the depths of her current dependence.

Following her mother to the backyard, Victoria opened the door for her so she could crawl out into the grass, thankful their yard had high fences. She looked around the yard despondently before looking up at her mom.

“Uh, can you take my bottoms off mom?” She asked, looking down embarrassed.

“Of course sweetie” She answered, leaning down and pulling her adult daughter’s pajama pants and panties down, asking her to raise each leg as she pulled them off each foot. Looking away from her mother, she crawled around the corner of the house, not wanting to dwell on being naked in front of her mother, before spreading her knees as far as she could, a spurt of pee releasing, which she quickly stopped as she realized it would pool around her knees. Swallowing her pride, she braced herself on her arms and free knee as she raised one of them, peeing on the side of the house like a dog.

Victoria couldn’t help but peak around the side of the house, grinning as her daughter relieved herself before quickly stepping back as to provide the illusion of privacy as she crawled back to her.

“Maybe we should just keep your pants off for now sweetie, they’ve gotta be making it more difficult to get around and if you have to go to the bathroom again it’ll be easier this way.” Victoria offered, as if it wasn’t something she was eager for.

“But m-” Amelia cut herself off before shrugging, resigned to her predicament as she crawled back up to the backdoor. She could probably get it open on her own but it would be more trouble than it was worth.

As the day continued, Amelia spent most of her time in her room, dwelling on this new situation. Victoria continued on her household tasks before lounging on the couch watching tv, the giddiness of knowing her daughter would never leave her leaving a small grin on her face despite the reality.

Lunch and Dinner had passed much like breakfast, Victoria would come find her daughter laying on the floor of her bedroom, lead her out to the couch and serve her plate on the couch cushion, where it would be relatively accessible with considerable difficulty.

Shortly after dinner, once Victoria had led Amelia back inside after allowing her to relieve herself again, Victoria suggested perhaps she should give her a bath after crawling around all day. Amelia was initially hesitant, but she couldn’t deny she felt grimey. She hadn’t been naked around her mother, before today, for many years, but she had little choice but to allow her mother to help her into the tub, wash her entire body, and help her out once again before drying her off.

It didn’t take much for Amelia to take Victoria’s suggestion of staying entirely unclothed with a mixture of reluctance and practicality. The unconventional situation seemed to make sense, at least for the moment.

With Amelia entirely nude and vulnerable, Victoria helped arrange some blankets and pillows in Amelia’s room, creating a makeshift bed on the floor, where at her mother’s request she stayed sitting while she retrieved her new medication. Once the medication was injected into her thigh with a pinch, Amelia immediately crumpled to the floor, her mood as melancholy as it had been all night, covering herself with a blanket with a sad good night to her mother.

Victoria left her daughter there, while she should have felt conflicted, her daughter was deeply sad of course, but Victoria was certain she would find joy in the situation soon, having her mother take care of her. Victoria certainly did.

In the weeks that followed, the first day's strangeness becoming routine. Amelia's reliance on her mother became an unquestioned norm. The once-independent daughter now looked to Victoria for practically everything.

Amelia's curiosity about the doctor's results came up nearly daily, and her mother would always respond with some variation of "They're still working on it, sweetheart. We'll know soon enough."

Amelia's dependence was perhaps most apparent in her bathroom habits, or lack of bathroom in them. Multiple times a day her mother would bring her into the backyard and she would relieve herself, in all ways, a blush on her face when her mother would spray her butt down with the hose after fully relieving herself and picking up her poop in a plastic bag like she was just a dog.

Baths became a nightly ritual, a necessity if she didn’t wish her nude floor-bound body to develop a layer of grime and stink. The awkwardness fading with each day.

The shift from eating on the couch to eating on the floor was a natural progression. It was simply what worked best for Amelia’s situation, her mother hadn’t even been the one to suggest it, and not long after that she abandoned utensils as well, it was much easier if she just bent down and use her mouth to eat, her mom wiping her mouth off afterwards if necessary.

Each night her mother would inject her with her medication, some hope maybe the next day she would wake up and be able to walk again. But unbeknownst to her, the medication in the syringes was not going to suddenly repair her permanently damaged body, because the medication in the syringes was hormonal replacements, and not human ones.

As this routine continued, the passage of time blurred, her mood was less dismal but of course rarely happy. Days became weeks became months as Victoria was actively accommodating Amelia’s submission to her new routine. Then finally one morning, with a grin, her mother received yet another fake phone call, her tone optimistic, causing Amelia to look up from where her face was buried in her bowl of oatmeal on the floor, her mouth smeared with her breakfast.

“Baby! I have good news, the doctor has gotten your results back and she knows what the problem is.” Victoria said, her face covered in a big half-false grin, crouching down and placing her hands on the sides of her daughters head, the slightly patronizing act having become somewhat the norm.

Amelia’s mood is suddenly a complete 180 from how she had been for the past few months, she was grinning and her eyes were tearing up with happy tears. Her mother was also thrilled, but not because her daughter would be ‘fixed’ but because it was finally time to take this even further.

Their moods were practically infectious, each feeding off the other as Victoria wiped breakfast off her daughter’s face and took her outside for what one of them hoped was the last time, and the other knew certainly wasn’t.

When they finally made it to the vet's office, Amelia practically jumping in and out of the car, her excitement was palpable. Ellie, with her fake enthusiasm, greeted them, all smiles and encouragement. She was led back and helped up onto the table once more, her anticipation building.

Ellie's words were reassuring, "Amelia, we're going to give you an injection today. It should help alleviate your discomfort and get you back to feeling more like yourself."

Amelia's eagerness overshadowed any skepticism she probably should have felt. Not like she had much time to question it as she barely registered the prick of the needle before everything went dark.

As Amelia drifted into unconsciousness, Ellie and Victoria exchanged a knowing look.

"It won't be long now," Ellie mused, her tone a mix of excitement and professional detachment. "You've made quite the progress."

Victoria's smile held a touch of anticipation. "I should feel bad but I can’t help but be excited."

With a final nod, Victoria left her daughter in Ellie's capable hands and returned home, a sense of purpose and excitement guiding her steps. The days ahead held the promise of progress, of moving closer to her ideal outcome. She couldn’t leave her daughter as a grown woman on hands and knees after all. Finally, she began unpacking her daughter’s boxes, she’d never be leaving her. Realistically, Amelia wouldn’t need any of this stuff anymore, but the act was cathartic for her mother. When she was finally done, she left the room, closing it behind her. It was time for some online shopping.

After a month. Amelia’s return was a surreal scene, the first major culmination of Victoria’s unconventional choices, which was saying a lot considering how major the first step was. As the two men carefully placed the large blanket-covered dog cage inside the house, the air was heavy with a sense of both anticipation and trepidation.

With the men gone, Victoria's demeanor shifted from a pragmatic transaction to eager giddiness. She exhaled before removing the blanket that had concealed the cage's contents, revealing the transformation that Amelia had undergone.

The surgical modifications were unmistakable and grotesque. Amelia's torso was more cylindrical, as if her ribs had been compressed inwards, her limbs extending off it had been just as modified, they were shortened, her arms and legs both more closely resembling dog's legs than a humans. The absence of fingers and toes taking away the rest of her daughter’s autonomy.

The alteration to Amelia's backside was particularly striking. Her buttcheeks had been entirely removed, leaving her anus flush against her back, mirroring the anatomy of a dog and the dog-like tongue hanging from her mouth was just a cherry on top.

These changes didn’t come easily of course, her body was marred by mostly-healed surgical scars, though for the most part they were strategically placed to be less noticeable. Not that it mattered at the moment anyway, It wasn’t like she was fit for anyone to see anyway, as she was she resembled more monster than human, a shaved human head on a dog-shaped body, only a thin coat of light brown hair growing across her body as a result of the daily hormone injections.

Amelia slept within the confines of the cage, her body a canvas upon which Victoria's ambitions had been meticulously etched. Once she was done gawking at the changes, a grin plastered on her face, she went and retrieved the two dog bowls that she had prepared, in the same place where she had used to eat her meals off plates or bowls, but now instead of eggs or spaghetti, one bowl was full of water, and one was full of wet dog food. Opening the cage quietly, she placed the bowls in front of the door before closing it once again. She needed to acclimatize her daughter to her new life before allowing her to do something that could hurt either of them, though given she had no teeth or nails yet, it was hardly the biggest worry.

While dog food isn’t good for humans, Amelia was hardly much of a human anymore. Under Ellie’s exacting scalpel, Amelia’s doglike anatomy was far more than only external. Most of her internal organs had been replaced with a dogs, her stomach would have no issue digesting the processed mush, and her new tongue and olfactory organs would likely make it taste like the finest steak. Victoria didn’t really care either way, she would get to keep her daughter for the rest of her life. The rest of Amelia’s life anyway, because while she would have a significantly longer life than a dog, the nature of these surgeries had certainly shortened her life somewhat. But considering if she had let her daughter go off on her own for all she knew she could have died a week after moving out, so she didn’t let that bother her much.

Victoria positioned herself in front of the cage, sitting with her legs crossed, awaiting her daughter's awakening. The room was nearly silent beyond the sound of her daughter’s breathing. When Amelia's eyes finally fluttered open, brown dog eyes having replaced her previous pretty green ones, a bewildered confusion settled over her features. The reality of her new form, her new perception quickly overwhelmed her, and it was not without a note of primal panic. In that moment, her eyes met Victoria's, seeking an anchor in this sea of uncertainty.

Amelia's first attempt to speak was met with an unexpected outcome. Instead of words, a whine escaped her lips – her vocal cords having been as modified as the rest of her. The shock of this realization seemed to reverberate through her, adding a layer of distress to her already tumultuous emotions.

Victoria cooed soft reassurances, but they were rendered ineffective as Amelia's whimpers escalated into barks, an expression of her panic and frustration.

Waking up sore all over, with sudden color blindness and an assault of scents from her new internal nose organs was surely disorienting, barks the only thing coming from her throat, swiftly followed my whimpers and whines at the reality of her situation was complete overload, and as she tried to get to her feet, and realizing she essentially had four of them, on which she was uneasy as she had been unconscious for over a month, it was understandable she was unconsolable.

“Amy, darling. Calm.” Victoria cooed to her, her command closer to one for a dog than her human daughter. Amy whined in response, her mouth falling open and oversized tongue flopping out.

Looking around disoriented, her dry mouth and empty stomach quickly came into focus, the smell of the dog food certainly not the scent of a luxurious steak, but her nose registered it as food, briefly distracted from her predicament, she began lapping from the water bowl, her tongue well adapted for scooping up water but she was unpracticed and ended up splashing water everywhere, but her thirst was partially quenched, and immediately after her face was buried in the dog food. Victoria didn’t really like wet food, it was gross and smelled, and she’d need to wash her hands if it got on her, but she wasn’t the one eating it. When Amy got her second round of surgeries and new teeth she could switch to dry food, but for now Victoria would just have to live with feeding her dog-daughter wet food.

Having licked the bowl clean, she looked up at her mother, confused at how she looked slightly wrong, everything slightly less bright, less clear, colors missing, and the fact that she could smell her, she could smell her perfume, her skin, she could smell far too much about her mother. Amelia whimpered up at her mother.

“Sweetheart, I know this is all scary, but this is a good thing, you get to stay with mommy forever” she cooed at her, putting her hand on the bars and Amy’s hand instinctively comes up to meet hers through the bars. Seeing her fingerless hands sends another whimper through her throat.

“Do you want to come out? Are you gonna be a good girl?” Victoria asked, her second question making it exceedingly evident what their relationship is now. Amy nodded her head, her face sad.

Undoing the cage door, she opened it up, allowing Amy her freedom. She took the bowls from in front of her daughter and set them on top of the cage. Amy shakily got to her feet, lifting each leg individually to test them before taking a step forward, then another step. It’s a new experience, walking with four legs, but she manages to adapt relatively quickly, stepping out of the cage.

“There you go sweetheart” Victoria cooed at her, reaching up to pet her head, causing Amy to flinch away. “Sweetheart” she said somewhat sternly and Amy brought her head back, allowing her to be pet.

Getting to her feet, Victoria walked into the kitchen, leaving Amy alone in the living room and she followed, her steps slow as she adjusted to her new physique. Victoria returns quicker than Amy can reach her in the kitchen, crouching down in front of her daughter, holding up what she had retrieved. It was a collar.

Amy’s reaction was a mixture of reluctance and subdued resignation as the collar found it’s way around her neck, a dog bone shaped tag dangling from her neck. The gesture was a tacit acknowledgement of her new reality, a symbol of her altered existence.

In the weeks and months that followed Amy's return, their household returning to the routines they had adapted before, but there were no longer any illusions or dishonesty.

Amy's emotional state retained an undertone of melancholy, but in her new dog-like physicality it was less pronounced then it had been prior to her surgeries, even if it was more extreme.

On her first day home while she was still ‘pouting’ as her mother-owner called it, she decided she was just going to poop on the floor, she really had to go anyway, her digestive system was significantly shorter now. The consequence was swift and sharp – her mother's hand pushed her face right into her mess, and it wasn’t cleaned off till dinner time. This spelt out their dynamic nice and clear, she would be a good girl, or she would be punished.

Privacy became a luxury relinquished, as Amy was led outside on a leash for her daily bathroom trips. Her baths, previously daily, now every other week at best, caused her scent to shift gradually, smelling almost identical to a dog.

While her rare freetime, when she wasn’t expected at her mother’s side, was spent staring wistfully out the window, to the muted earth tones of the outdoors, the rest of her time was spent at her mother’s heel, sitting next to her or laying her head on her lap while she watched tv. She certainly didn’t mind the pets that accompanied it. Every day they had ‘playtime’ which encompassed a range of training. She would run back and forth, her new legs carrying her far faster than her original legs had, some small blessing. Licking and sniffing training became integral to her, as Amy was expected to adopt dog-like behaviors. She was taught to sniff and lick just about everything, as a dog would, for example if she wasn’t regularly licking her mom’s hand and burying her face in her crotch she’d find herself dragged by her collar to her cage with a blanket over it. The purpose was clear – to assimilate her into a new reality, where her human identity was subsumed by her animal-like existence.

Amy's diet shift to dog food was honestly the easiest adaptation, her new tongue, which had less taste buds than a human one, and sense of smell, made the bowls of wet food advertising flavors of some form of meat or gravy relatively inoffensive.

The hardest thing was the change in her relationship with her mother, or perhaps owner was more accurate. She obeyed, or she was punished, she slept at the foot of her bed, and the only words spoken to her were commands or coos about how she was such a good girl, or how pretty her coat was coming in, which she now knew was the result of the ‘medication’ she’d been given since before her transformation. Victoria had definitely felt it as well, while she had treated her daughter like property in the first place, she had no problem locking her up in her cage, or masturbating in front of her as if she was little more than an animal. She was even seriously considering letting her daughter stick her big dog tongue inside her, because she didn’t really see her so much as a daughter anymore, more a beloved pet.

After nearly a year living as her mother’s dog, Amy's scars had fully healed, and her body became enrobed in a full layer of light brown fur, while her mind was still very much human, she barely remembered a time before this was her life. The once-jarring routine had metamorphosed into a new normal, a testament to the adaptability of humans, or perhaps no-longer-humans.

Victoria was standing at the counter when her phone rang, and the reply to the person on the phone with her interrupted Amy, who had her face buried in her mother’s butt (which had become a pastime she had come to quite enjoy oddly enough), quickly replaced by a whimper and a whine that spoke volumes. She was going to the vet, and she knew what happened at the vet.

With Amy leashed, Victoria led her to the waiting car, her agility evident as she effortlessly hopped into the back seat. The journey was not accompanied by smalltalk, as Amy was hardly much of a talker at this point, but her mother did tell her she better be a good girl for Dr Ellie, or else she’d be spending time in her crate when she got home, which Amy hoped would be soon. . Arriving at the vet's office, They arrived behind the building, Amy’s physical state hardly something they could explain given her essentially human head, regardless of it’s layer of fur and black-rimmed eyes. Amy knew what was expected of her, so once inside the office she ran up to Ellie and when she went to pet the dog-girl her hand was met by a wet tongue and then swiftly by a face buried in her crotch. As little as she wanted to do it, Amy did enjoy getting to smell all the different scents she got from the vet, a whole new world compared to her owner.

As Ellie patted the examination table, Amy's agility manifested once more as she leapt onto it. She knew what would happen, but she also knew she had no choice, and with a pinch and a yelp, the world darkened as Amy succumbed to the sedation, her surrender to this unnerving routine a reminder of the choices that had propelled her into this complex journey of transformation.

Three years had passed since Amy’s last surgeries, no longer did any part of her resemble a human, physically and mentally.

Amy's body had become a canvas for surgical artistry, a tail wagged excitedly behind her, paws that moved in synchrony with her canine-like gait at the end of each of her four legs, a furry slit left behind where her fleshy vulva had once been, everything but the uterus having been transplanted into her, and her formerly human skull had been molded to resemble that of a pitbull, unnecessary parts of her brain removed to fit it inside it’s new casing, which certainly contributed to her lack of humanity. Pitbulls had always been Victoria and her daughter’s favorite dog breed, and now Amy was one.

Mentally, Amy was nothing more than a dog, her formerly critical mind replaced by the instincts and behaviors of her canine identity.

Walking through the gate and closing it behind them, Victoria reached down and let her dog off the leash, setting Amy free to explore the dog park they frequented to interact with her fellow canines in a dance of sniffs, barks, and wagging tails.

Victoria took a seat on a bench, watching her dog chasing and being chased, play fighting, and being her best dog-self, grinning as she did everytime she saw her former daughter. She hadn’t exactly considered the person she was trying to keep around would essentially seize to exist, but pets and a loving owner seemed like a good trade off, she’d never have to worry about a thing, and Victoria got the best girl anyone could ask for.

“Hey! Amy! No!” She shouted across the park as she watched Amy lean down and began eating another dog’s poop. At least she had the decency to look guilty, if dogs could feel guilty, as she swallowed it. Not like telling her not to had ever worked in the past, Amy was a bit gross, it was the first thing she had done after her final surgeries that solidified that Amy was no longer anything more than a dog, but at least usually it was her own poop.

“Hey, no! Down!” A man was shouting, having stood up from the bench next to hers and she realized he was shouting at Amy, or towards Amy anyway, who was being mounted by another pitbull, presumably the man’s dog.

“If it’s okay with you it’s okay with me” She told him, coming up to stand up next to him. “She’s not exactly fixed but she can’t have any puppies, so no worries there” She said looking to him with a grin.

“Oh, well, if you’re sure” He said, looking to her with a small grin, and Victoria glanced over to where Amy was being knotted by the male dog. Well if one of them is getting fucked…

“You want to come over sometime? You can bring your dog” She told him with a flirty grin.

[poptartmochi]

i think it would be very funny if astarion Also moved in with them. is there a polycule situation. is he their live-in bitchy grandma buddy. do he and mama dekarios have a summer wedding and Of Course he's going to live with his wife, grow up gale 🙄 the possibilities are endless

[medantahospital606]

Robotic Surgery and Emerging Technologies in MG | Medanta Care

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Israeli Forces Target Kamal Adwan Hospital in Northern Gaza

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[health5690]

Explore the advanced MISSO Robotic System, designed to enhance precision and efficiency in joint replacement surgery. Learn how this cutting-edge technology aids surgeons in achieving better patient outcomes with improved accuracy and faster recovery times. Watch the video to see how MISSO is transforming orthopedic procedures.

[familythings]

Historic Milestone: First Pediatric Surgery with Robots in the UK

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[kingproblem]

CPR is kinda like blowing on a game console cartridge