...it wasn't even a hand at all. Soft blonde and tan fur covered her thin forelimb as it tapered into a delicate paw. The small canid claws were painted the same violent crimson as that woman's dress ...that woman with the dog in her purse.
Joanna sat bold upright and awkwardly shuffled back the covers with her inhuman limbs. In spite of being fully dressed she could tell there were other changes in her body.
Her legs were long and shapely pressed into stylish red heels, except for the bristly beige dog fur they might have been idealized. A red silk skirt caressed her thighs but at her waist it merged to a gingham jumper that covered her groin then back to a red silk frame for her now massive cleavage.
Staggering into the bathroom she realized that she was now diminutive, barely four feet tall. Her fore paws draped over her over sized breasts in a reflexive 'begging' posture as she sashayed in the unfamiliar stiletto heels. She had to push a stool over to see herself in the mirror.
It was still her face (at least in shape), but her eyes were chocolate brown canine orbs. Her lips were black as was the tip of her nose. Her entire body was covered in short tawny fur. Even her hair was short as a brush cut, just like a Chihuahua.
