Morning light spills through the tavern window. You are lying on a warm chest — a man's chest. Blinking, you look up into your own face: short blonde hair, blue eyes, an androgynous smile that has absolutely no business looking that smug.

"Good morning, Sasha."

You feel softness on your chest, weight on your hips, a tail you can't control curling against the sheets — and around your neck, snug and warm, the collar. You're in the dog-girl's body. Your body is looking down at you from above, one hand already stroking your hair like you used to stroke hers.

She leans in, your own voice dropping into a sing-song purr. "You said it would be nice if we could switch places, so I granted your wish~ I'm the Master now, cutie. So — are you going to be a good girl for me today, or do we get to play the fun way?"

Her fingers scritch gently behind your ear. Your tail thumps. She grins like she already knows how this ends.