e621.net · 5927148

Drawn by: "A_Dusty_Wolf":https://www.furaffinity.net/user/adustywolf

Written by: "LofiReads":https://www.furaffinity.net/user/lofireads

h2. Wardrobe Malfunction

"Dahlia, can you come to my office, please?" buzzed a voice from the desktop intercom. It wasn't too unusual for Mr. Shiba to interrupt her work in the middle of the day. He seemed to be under the impression she was still his secretary.

As she left her private office, weaved through the cubicles of R&D, and caught a lift to the top floor, Dahlia wondered what it would be this time. Her expertise was in the odd tie adjustment or nail trimming, but she often got stuck doing the IT boys' job while explaining that "No, sir, the hot singles in your area are not literal cougars."

Whatever the case, she didn't mind the trip. There was always a chance the floor-to-ceiling window would be open, and Mr. Shiba, as he was wont to do, would be staring contemplatively over the glimmering sea of rooftops. But it was a different view Dahlia had in mind.

[i]Ding![/i]

And there it was. Mr. Shiba's pantless, curly tailed backside left nothing to the imagination as he loomed over the city. Dahlia couldn't help but bite her lip while waiting for him to finish his brooding.

"Thank you for coming, Dahlia," he said eventually, not breaking his focus. "I'm afraid it's time we made some changes around here."

Oh no! Dahlia snapped out of her daze. Had her antics finally reached HR? She didn't get [i]that[/i] drunk at Friday's office party, did she?

"S-sir?"

"I've been thinking," he continued with an obligatory dramatic pause, "I should probably put on some pants."

Dahlia laughed, half out of relief and half as a playful dismissal. "Oh sir, whatever gave you that idea?"

"It's just that I overheard some humans in the break room saying it's unprofessional for me to walk around half nude. Of course, I'll continue to defer to the head of the Beauty department in all matters of fashion."

"Oh, you know humans and their silly sensibilities," said Dahlia, now feeling comfortable enough to creep closer. "Personally I've never seen the point in pants."

"Your tail does the job just fine, but mine doesn't bend that way." He gave it a sad little wiggle.

"Well of course, I could [i]never[/i] be brave enough to expose myself like that, but a dog of your status needn't worry about such trivial things. Your [i]40 Under 6[/i] showcase even called it a 'power move'."

"Hm..." Mr. Shiba contemplated for a moment before turning to sit at his desk. "Regardless, that's not what I called you in here for. After your previous interview in [i]Dogue[/i] magazine, you've become a household name in the fashion world. Our PR analysts have found strong public sentiment to see more of you. With that in mind, the board has directly requested to have you model our latest product line."

Dahlia was already practising her catwalk on her way to the open chair. "[i]Moi[/i]? But I'm just an attractive, successful, multitalented designer for a fortune 500 fashion company."

"Yes, and--"

"And I've been dreadfully busy. I could hardly afford the break from my duties."

"We can--"

"And all that attention? It would be so overwhelming."

"If you'll--"

"All right, you've convinced me. Where and when?"

Mr Shiba grinned. "Marketing. Tomorrow at noon."

***

The next morning Dahlia failed to get any work done for all the jitters, and it didn't get much better when noon came around. Each time she got a glimpse of herself in the dressing room mirror she felt an urge to try out a new pose.

A cute one? No, such childishness didn't suit her.

An aggressive one? No, she didn't want to seem bitchy.

A revealing one? No, that definitely wouldn't get past the censors, which made it a rather unfortunate moment for the door to burst open.

Luckily, the human who entered was too focused on the clothes in her arms and the voice in her earpiece to notice. "No, Earl, if you do that, we'll never meet the deadline--Here, try these on--Sorry, Earl, it's just not in the budget."

Dahlia looked at the pile of clothes in front of her with dread. "Erm, Nancy dear? Aren't these from the After Dark line?"

"Is something wrong? We're on a schedule here."

"It's just that they never passed Quality Assurance. When I tested them out on the interns, they tended to..." Admittedly, Dahlia could have solved this problem much sooner. Was it really worth the HR nightmare if it came out she'd deliberately let a defect slip through production? "Never mind. I'm ready. Some privacy, please."

"Aren't you already naked?--Of course I'm not talking to you, Earl!"

"It's the principle, dear. You wouldn't want someone to watch [i]you[/i] change."

Nancy rolled her eyes as she made for the door. "Whatever. You have five minutes."

After twenty minutes, Dahlia emerged with her choice. She had settled on a black corset and panties which contrasted nicely with her white fur, and accentuated her curves. More importantly, it was the least revealing option, highlighting her most attractive features while still keeping her comfortably modest.

While the busybody woman led her to the set, Dahlia was sure to give a warm smile to everybody she passed. One for the Corgi struggling to adjust a light and the oblivious Great Dane nearby. One for the interns sampling from the catering table and the one pretending to be busier than the rest. One for the metrosexual photographer and his man bun. The Saint Bernard in charge of the booming speakers got the special privilege of a wink to go with his.

"Places, everybody!" shouted Nancy, and everyone instantly turned their attention to Dahlia, just the way she liked it.

"Looking beautiful, darling!" started the photographer. "We're gonna warm up with some freeform posing. Just let the music flow through you, and do whatever feels right."

That was a lot of pressure, Dahlia felt. She had hoped for some guidance or at least more time to practise. In her nervous fidgeting she crossed her paws, and the camera snapped. That was all it took. The camera loved her no matter what she did.

A flick of the ears.

[i]FLASH![/i]

An amused chuckle.

[i]CLICK![/i]

Even a casual stretch to loosen the limbs earned a "That's it, baby! You got that fire!"

The music. The lights. The praise. Dahlia lost herself in their trance-inducing allure. Each pose pulsed from her body to the beat of the music, and the camera flashed in sync.

Pout. Wink. Lip bite. Grin.

"There you go! Do your thing!"

Step. Vogue. Hip thrust. Twirl.

"All right, all right! Work it, girl!"

Sit. Stay. Roll over. Paw.

Suddenly, all froze in awe.

The record scratched, but everyone was too focused on Dahlia to fix it. The Saint Bernard nervously covered himself with his tail. The Corgi fell off his ladder into a puddle of the Great Dane's drool. An intern dropped a plate. Even the photographer stood agape before wordlessly producing another [i]click[/i]. Dahlia chuckled with pride to have stunned the whole room with the perfect pose. She could lay there forever, just letting them admire her.

That's when Nancy blurted, "All right, everybody, quit gawking! I think we got enough."

"So soon?" said Dahlia as she stood to follow the buzzkill. "But I was in my element."

"It didn't look like you were 'in' much of anything."

Dahlia rushed to join Nancy in the changing room. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean. What happened out there?"

"Nothing you need to worry about." She procured a clipboard. "Completely unrelated, stamp your paw on this NDA."

Paperwork was all too familiar for Dahlia. As she'd learned to do from years of signing documents, she got the hassle out of the way without much thought.

"Thanks," said Nancy. "We'll be in touch." And the door shut, leaving Dahlia to contemplate in silence.

***

Weeks passed, and memories of the photoshoot became lost in the daily grind. Each day Dahlia would walk to the office building, check the news stand outside for the latest gossip, find a bench to read and sip her coffee, chat with a security guard, flirt with some interns, hog the break room, take some selfies, scroll on Facebork, have a nap, then rush home for a much needed bath after such a busy day.

That routine changed one morning when she found a chattering crowd surrounding the news stand. What juicy story just came out, she wondered while pushing her way through to look at the headlines.

[i]Snoop Dogg Under Fire for Cultural Appropriation.[/i]

[i]Scandal! Pitbull having affair with pit bull![/i]

[i]Baha Men Still at Large After Mass Poundbreak.[/i]

"There she is!" said a human pointing his phone at Dahlia. In his other hand was a magazine with her trademark red and white fur on the cover.

"It's out?" she said, and snatched it with elation. "Let me see!"

Indeed the cover sported a full page pinup of Dahlia in her favourite pose from that photo session. It was no wonder everyone wanted her autograph. She looked so perfect with her lithe body stretched across the sheets and her inviting gaze. The way she reached down to pull her leg aside gave everyone an unobstructed view of the merchandise and her... No! Could that really be? Peeking from the edge of her panties, right by her tail?

She looked up to see a thousand eyes staring at her. They slowly closed in, darkening the sun. Some laughed. Some jeered. Some scolded. All assumed she was the type of girl who'd lift her tail for just anyone. The attention she once loved more than anything had become her personal Hell.

"Back! Back, you filthy mongrels!" she barked before ramming her way out of the growing mob and charging inside the building.

"Yo, Dahlia," said the hound guard dog, "seen any good holes to bury my bone in?"

She burst through the turnstile, paying him no heed.

"Morning, Dahlia," said the spaniel at reception, "did you see you're trending?"

Dahlia ignored her as well and stomped toward the lift.

"M-Miss Dahlia? I was wondering...if you don't mind..."

She looked down and saw a trembling Chihuahua staring up her back leg.

"I-I-I'd really appreciate if you would lift--" He was promptly kicked in the face. As he writhed on the ground, he groaned, "I just wanted you to help me reach the button."

But Dahlia had already pried the doors open, smashed her paw on the button to the top floor, and began pacing around the cabin with such fury even the gears and pulleys hastened out of fear. She wouldn't see the real target of her rage until the doors opened, and she came face to face with Mr. Shiba sitting behind his desk.

"What in the everloving blazes made you think that could go to publishing?" scolded Dahlia.

Mr. Shiba peered over his glasses. "You're upset with the magazine?"

"Of course! It's all fine and dandy to show that to a trusted partner, but I don't need the whole world ogling my...my...unmentionables!

Mr. Shiba rose from his chair and walked to the window with his tail proudly curled. Naturally Dahlia ogled his unmentionables.

"You're a trendsetter, Dahlia. Someone who leads, not follows. One day you may even replace me at the top of this company." He gestured for her to join him in gazing over the city she would soon own.

She obliged, if only to ask "And what does this have to do with my predicament?"

"You said it yourself: A dog of your status needn't worry about such trivial things."