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(Author's Note: While I have attempted to tag the sexual topics covered in this story for filtering purposes, the actual content in this chapter is not particularly explicit - for example, while this story is tagged with rape, it does not contain a rape scene per se, but a discussion between two people recounting things that happened to them in the past. To be on the safe side, it has been categorized as extreme, but while it does have some uncomfortable scenes, it is considerably less explicit than some other chapters in this series.)

"Hey, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure... what's on your mind?" May rolled over onto her side to face Gianna. The covers shifted slightly as she moved, the edge of them nudging back just enough to display the lustrous golden fur of her arm and shoulder as she reached a hand over to pet gently down along Gianna's side. The sheets were pulled back just enough that Gianna could glance down and catch a glimpse of May's bare breasts, but at the moment, the sight wasn't exactly capturing her interest.

As she'd predicted, May had been happy enough to help her work down the waning edge of her heat, and while she was still insistent about being on top as she did so, in Gianna's current state she could hardly have protested. That, and for some reason being in that position seemed to drive May wild, and being able to watch her climax like that, her face so close to Gianna's own that she could see every tiny change in her expression and hear every subtlety of her moans as she went over the edge... yeah, that alone was worth the price of admission, even before the relief that May was providing her. And afterwards, seeing that dazed expression on her face as May collapsed into her arms, so vulnerably, perfectly feminine... that certainly didn't hurt either, even if, at the moment, it did reflect just a little to close to home. So, perhaps the opposite of what Giancarlo might have wanted, with Gianna being the one getting thoroughly fucked in the process - but at least there were some aspects of it that played to a better sort of desire.

Along with it, though, as seemed to now be the case, between powerful climax and afterglow, whatever it was that now hung in the ether around May reasserted itself, as it had before, with the same eerie and clearly supernatural possession. This time, though... whatever the apparition was, angel or otherwise, it hadn't said a word, just looked down at Gianna with a calm, benevolent smile on its face, like it appreciated what it was seeing. Like it approved of the terrifying direction in which Gianna's mind had been drifting. That, on its own, was more than enough to leave her unsettled, and once May had recovered from her post-coital trance, that train of thought had gelled into a question that she couldn't help but ask.

"May, I... I know it sounds a little weird, but... do you like being a woman? I mean, really, actually like it?"

"That's... kinda out of left field, isn't it?"

"I guess, but... for some reason it's been on my mind lately, and it's something if I asked the other women I knew, they'd look at me like I was nuts..."

"But you're not afraid to ask me, because you know I won't mind - and sure enough, I don't. Although, I can't help but wonder... it's not one of those assumptions, is it? That because I'm a lesbian, that must mean I'm a guy trapped in a woman's body, or something?"

"Er, I mean... I'm not assuming that, but..." but I actually am one, and I can't figure out how to feel about that, was something she couldn't exactly come out and say. Maybe to Heather, who was in the same boat, but to anyone else...

"Hey, it's an easy enough assumption to make - heck, a lot of the girls I grew up with, the ones who came out at least, thought the same thing when they encountered someone who was really butch for the first time. And back when people started figuring out stuff about sexuality, they thought homosexuality and transsexualism were basically one and the same - that's why things blew up when the state actually forced some gay people to undergo sex changes, early on, and the political furor that resulted both got people to research it correctly, and put the framework in place that equalized gay rights a few years later. But yeah, there's a pretty big difference between the two things. I'm a woman, and I'm attracted to other women, but there's no way I'd want to actually turn into a guy - in fact, the could of times I even contemplated it idly, all I could think of was that it would just feel... uncomfortable and weird. So, yeah, I'm perfectly comfortable being a woman, and like the way I feel as one."

"Really? You actually like... all of it? Heat, getting wet all the time, having to sit down to piss, it doesn't get to you after a while?"

"Um, I don't think it gets to most women, actually. You trying to tell me something here?"

"No, I... I don't know. It's just that some things just... feel so weird a lot of the time, but at the same time, sometimes I actually begin to think that I like it, and I just feel so conflicted. Like I can't imagine anyone wanting to feel this way, wanting to deal with guys in this way, and other times it actually feels normal, even... right..."

"Like I said, I... can't exactly speak too well to that one. If anything, for me, being a woman feels a whole lot better than I could imagine being a man would be. Maybe it comes down to where my attractions lie, but to actually be in a weird, ugly, angular body, with muscles bulging out oddly, all I can think is that I would feel awkward every second of every day. Men are so... lumbering and graceless, in their gait, in the way they move, and if I had to move like that, I'd probably feel like I was walking on stilts. To trade in my breasts and all the sensation they have for a flat, boring slab of biceps and vestigial nipples that don't feel anything at all, to sacrifice those wonderful curves and give up the extra-soft fur on my stomach, thighs and tail, and for what? To be able to piss standing up and watch some woman I'm with climax several times in ecstasy compared to just one with less intensity? Sure, I won't lie - the idea of a woman's spade hugging tightly around a part of me is intriguing, but I can feel that well enough with my fingers, or my tongue. All of those tradeoffs wouldn't be anywhere close to worth it, especially if they put me in a body where I'd constantly feel uncomfortable in my own fur. If you are uncomfortable as a woman, there are some options, and better ones than there used to be, but... while I can say that, I can't claim to exactly know where you're coming from."

"Yeah, I get it - thanks for talking to me about it, at least. And no, I'm not thinking about... surgically transitioning, or anything like that. I'm a woman, and that's not something that's gonna change anytime soon." Or maybe ever, but that was hardly even worth considering. One thing she was quite sure of, though, regardless of how imperfect the surgery still was, if she even thought about going down that route, the boneheap would surely intervene. It had already made it quite clear that the only way Gianna was going to get any masculinity back was through its own perverse game.

"Hey, it's no problem. Still, I have to wonder what suddenly brought it on. It's not... me being on top, is it? Because if that's making you uncomfortable..."

"No, that's not it at all - heck, I kinda like watching you up there, especially the way your boobs sway when you... er, maybe I should shut up about that."

"Don't worry, I'll take it as a compliment, coming from you. Seriously, though, why the angst? It's not like you just now got frustrated with having to piss sitting down..."

Well, actually... but that was one more thing Gianna couldn't mention. "No, it's probably not just that. Like I said, I actually like it sometimes, as much as I'm not sure I want to admit it, but... sometimes I have to wonder, though, how do you stand it? All the stupid heat making you think things you don't want to, and the way guys are with women all the time, lesbian or not. How you handle all their stupid leers, and comments, the way they paw you every chance they get, the way you can't go through an entire day without some jackass groping your breast, or patting your ass, or sticking his hands down the front of your leggings. How you're supposed to deal with the fact that it's a regular occurrence to have guys just grab you, pull your panties down, and just fuck you up against a wall like you're not supposed to even notice it. If that's not enough to make you not want to be a woman, I don't know what the fuck is..."

"Um... again, that's... not really what happens to most women, I don't think. It certainly doesn't happen all that often to me. Although, now that I look at your face... you're not just talking in generalities, are you? You're speaking from experience... Did something happen to you? Did something happen since the last time we were together?"

That was certainly one way of putting it, Gianna thought. In fact, those somethings pretty much ran the entire gamut, from the random encounter with an overzealous Velasco that had gotten her as straight-up raped as it was possible to be, to that bizarre experience at the heat club that had turned out to be far more mutual, and far more overwhelmingly and unashamedly feminine, than it was ever supposed to be. And even stranger than that, the part that really weighed on her wasn't the one where she was raped, but the one that had been too enthusiastically voluntary...

"I dunno. A whole bunch of stuff happened. A whole bunch of... sex happened, obviously. And yet, for all of that, this the the only sex that I don't feel that fucked up about, in one way or another."

"You... didn't think it was relevant to talk about all the sex you had, with the one person you're in any real kind of relationship with?"

"What's to talk about? The only people I was with were guys, and that involved either being raped by them, or being so in heat that I didn't exactly have much conscious say in the matter. I mean, I guess you could technically say I was 'with' some women, by which I mean a couple of my also-heated female coworkers dragged me to a heat club and were side by side on the floor with a bunch of guys putting it to us. So, nothing I really want to talk about. What would be the point? Getting raped sucks, and I'm sick of people wanting to discuss how woefully victimized I was by it all, and heat's just a fucked-up fever dream that I have to put up with every fucking week. This is literally the only thing in my life right now that even halfway matters." Which was also true enough, albeit considerably lacking in context. Gianna was more than tired of having to be the one being fucked by that point, but in the midst of all that confusion, this really was the one bright spot, the one person she could be with and not feel humiliated or ashamed.

Good gravy, was she actually liking May now? All she was supposed to be was a means to an end, but... it was hard to think of her as just someone to be used. Was this more of the boneheap's doing? More repercussions from wearing those damn panties, more weird little curse-styled tweaks forcing her mind towards something feminine, trying to make her feel some girly emotion like love? Dammit, what would Giancarlo do in that situation? Well, obviously roll over on top of May and fuck her senseless, but... at the moment, even that was hard to visualize. Was she getting so used to this fucking spade that she was forgetting what it was like to penetrate someone?

Gianna shook her head, trying to get her mind away from that toxic sort of pondering. Giancarlo was still there. Wasn't going anywhere. Maybe around May it didn't matter, but she was never going to let that part of her, the real person that she was supposed to be, slip away. But what could she do? Think back on how much she'd enjoyed watching Heather getting taken? All that would accomplish would be to bring back those memories of her right there on her back in between them, getting her heated spade fucked silly and feeling so happy to be one of the girls... Just thinking about it made her sick, but she knew that it had been her down there, feeling those things, letting it all happen like a stupid, heated bitch...

She tried to snap out of it, focusing back on May, only to notice that she wasn't smiling. In fact, she actually looked a little mad.

"Gianna... seriously? You actually got raped, and you didn't think it was worth bringing up?"

"Why would it be? It sucked, and it made me cum, which especially sucked, and now it's over. And it was some guy I used to know, too, in a... really complicated way, so it's not like I can go to the police or something. And sitting here, talking about it, going over it again in my mind, is only gonna fuck with me more, so I'd rather let it drop, never ever think about it again, and move on. And why dwell on it? It's not even close to the first time I've been raped, and it's nowhere near the last, especially with this heat showing up all the time. When it happens, all I want is for it to be done, and once it's done, all I want to do is act like it never existed. That's why I didn't tell you, or my friends, or my folks, or anyone at all. It happened, it sucked, but there's no reason I have to sit around acknowledging that fact for who knows how long. All right?"

"Yeah, I get it, you're entitled to feel however you want to about it. I'm the last person who'd tell another woman how they're supposed to feel, and I know that everyone's got to get through something like that in their own way. But however you feel about it, it's the sort of thing you're supposed to let your friends know about - especially the ones who you're currently having sex with! You really think it's just okay not to let me know, and just risk me doing something in the middle of it that sets you off, that makes you flash back on it? Gianna, I care about you, you know I do, but I can't help you if you hide significant stuff like that from me!"

"Okay, okay... I was wrong not to tell you. That doesn't change how I feel about it, though. To me... I just don't want to let things like that get any significance. It's a horrible thing that happened to me, yes, but why give it any more weight than it deserves? A guy did something horrible to me for five minutes. Now it's done, and he's gone. Whatever stuff he left in me is long gone, too. The only significance left is what I give it, and I choose to give it none at all - not bringing it up is just another way of putting it back in its place."

Of course, Gianna could see the irony in that train of thought - if all women behaved that way, Giancarlo would have enjoyed what he did a whole lot less. That was how she saw it now, though, inasmuch as she could convince herself to shelve the emotions that always tried to crop up - just a thing that happened, one more in a long list of humiliations. Horrible in its way, but far less concerning to Gianna's psyche than what had happened oh so willingly within the confines of that club...

May was silent for a moment, her face flashing an expression that was surprisingly grim. "I... get that, too. And to be fair - for something like that, it's absolutely your right to tell it the way you want it. If you want to use that story to give you strength, or squash it down into insignificance, it's up to you. Just... promise you'll at least tell me in the first place if something happens to you? Even if all you want to do is mention it in passing and not talk about it at all, at least let me know what's going on..."

"All right, I'll... try, at least. Not really good at opening up to people, but I think you know that by now..."

"Yeah, I know. And it's not like I've been opening up to you right and left, either. We really do need to get to know each other more. Sure, maybe you're down with just being friends with benefits, but if we're going to be honest about that friend part..."

"Like I said, I'll try, okay? I'm still not going to want to talk about certain things that much, though. Shit just keeps happening to me sometimes - if it's not rape, it's heat, and I'm still not sure which one makes me feel less how I want to. Sometimes being a woman just... sucks."

"Heh... can't disagree with you there," May replied, shifting in bed a little, her expression rising for a moment before sinking back down. "Yeah, rape isn't exactly pillow talk, is it? I guess for us, though, it's not exactly avoidable..."

"Er... what do you mean, not avoidable?"

"We're both canine women, right? Every elevated species is different, and I think with felines it's actually lower than normal because of the shit that spines can do, but... the fact is, I know a lot of canine women, gay or straight. And there's not a single one that I've gotten to know in a meaningful way that doesn't have at least one story of being taken against their will. Usually more than one, in fact. I know it's hideous to think of it like that, but it's the truth. Our instincts still float too close to the surface, and there are so many guys who can't, or won't, keep theirs under control. The result is something all canine women have to bear. I fucking hate that fact, I really do, but my hating it doesn't change it. You have all those stories weighing down on you, and so does everyone else..."

It didn't take Gianna long to figure out the implication of that. "You're saying that... this kinda shit has happened to you, too? I mean... I'm the last person who should be bringing that up..." Quite literally, in Gianna's case, considering Giancarlo's previous complicity in so many of those stories.

"Yeah. Of course, I don't like to talk about it much, but... if I'm going to be fair about it, and live up to the promise to open up to you more... I guess it's not too bad to tell them now. Things have actually been pretty good, and it's been a long time since that's happened, enough that the memories of it feel more like... history, without the kind of sting you feel recalling them when they're still fresh. Just... let me tell it straight, and don't interrupt until I'm done. I don't need sympathy, not any more, but sometimes telling it does help, in a certain way. Especially when the person I'm telling knows what I'm talking about, it helps you feel like you're not so alone in it all..."

May rolled over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling as she began.

"It really isn't all that interesting or unique at all - really, it could have been a scene in any number of plays that were playing in LGBT circles at the time. Of course, I didn't know about them at that point, as I wasn't really tied into it all. No, I was just a gay high school student, in a city where there weren't all that many of those. Even then, it wasn't that bad - attitudes were already starting to change, most kids didn't really mind or were just curious, and the faculty had even signed off on a gay-straight alliance club. Despite all that, though, deciding to be an out gay student, I kind of stood out, even if lesbians got a little less grief overall.

"Thing of it was, though, not all the kids were okay with it. Some still thought it was an abomination, that we had to be shunned, or hated, or changed. And then there were the kind of guys who thought that it was some stupid thing where girls were confused because they hadn't done it with a guy, and that once a masculine guy showed them what's what, they'd be nice and straight and available. But since a lesbian wouldn't agree to that voluntarily... well, you get the idea.

"Anyway, there were three senior guys on the soccer team, and that's exactly the kind of idea they had. They also happened to be in my P.E. class, and one day they overheard me being assigned to put the equipment away afterward. That was their chance, as P.E. was just before lunch so no one would come looking for me, and when I entered the equipment room, they were there waiting for me. They'd unfolded one of the gymnastics mats on the floor, and as soon as I bent down to put the equipment away, they were all over me. Before I could even scream, they'd tossed me onto the mat, pulled down my gym shorts, and pulled a zip-tie around my muzzle. They weren't totally clueless - they held me down and stuck their hands between my legs until I couldn't help being wet, so at least it didn't hurt, but...

"It was just... awful, but I don't need to tell you how it felt. The first two, at least, I struggled with, and even after they grabbed my arms and legs, I still made it as hard on them as I could. Even if they were seniors, they weren't quite mature yet, quite as big as a real adult guy, so I felt it, but it wasn't as bad. Their horrid stuff ended up inside me anyway, but it felt like I didn't give into them. I didn't really understand, though, that what I'd been feeling when it happened had actually been arousing me, priming me subtly enough, and the third guy... he wasn't much thicker, maybe just a bit, but the other two had made things too sensitive. A minute in, it felt so intense that all of a sudden I couldn't fight it anymore, just feel it... and another minute more, I felt myself cumming around him. I could hear the triumph in his voice as he felt it too, and in that moment... I felt more ashamed than I ever had before in my life. Like my body had betrayed me, like I'd betrayed myself, that I'd let myself down for letting a guy, the opposite of who I wanted to love, make me feel that way. Of course, I learned later on just how involuntary that reaction was, but still, it was hard to deal with.

"I was reasonably strong back then, though, strong enough to pull myself together once it was done, and as soon as they left I went straight to the coach's office, and he took me straight to the principal. I actually went to the hospital, did a rape kit, talked to the police, and they actually charged the three kids who did it - because of my orientation, the prosecutor even attached a hate-crime enhancement to it, turned it into a high-grade felony.

"I was actually starting to feel better about things - they were going to be punished, and since I hadn't been in heat, at least there weren't going to be additional consequences, although I went on the implant right afterward just to make sure. I had developed a little late, though, and hadn't actually gone into heat yet - for some reason, no one had managed to really predict when it would happen.

"A week before the trial, though, all of a sudden it did, right in the middle of the school day. They say the first one hits you the fastest and hardest, and that was definitely the case for me. I just about went nuts - even trying to walk from class to class was hard, I was completely soaked, and every guy was suddenly about a thousand times more attractive. Somehow, most of them didn't notice, but one guy, a sort of innocent-looking junior who'd been kind of sweet on me but never asked about my sexuality either way... somehow, he got a good whiff of my scent, and it made him brave enough to walk up behind me and grind up against my ass. The heat was so strong, though, that I'd just about lost my head, and feeling him against me like that, it was all over. All my body wanted to do was fuck, and... that's what happened.

"We ended up in a stall in the boys' bathroom, and it happened so quick I don't think I even had a chance to wince before he got the knot in. I came just about as quick, though, and since I'd never felt it before to know how to keep my emotions in check, apparently I screamed so high and so loud that a few kids actually thought it was the fire alarm! I mean, yeah, I can laugh about it now, but at the time I was absolutely out of my mind, feeling more than thinking. We made enough of a disturbance, though, that a teacher was called to disable the stall lock from the outside - and the first thing I can remember, coming down from it, is looking back to see a feline teacher and a half-dozen boys goggling at us - both of us with pants around our ankles, completely tied and inseparable for the next ten minutes. Since I had my fur sculpted a certain way at the time, and because I was kinda dressing butch, for a moment the teacher actually thought it was two boys who'd knotted, something that's incredibly stupid and dangerous, and almost called for an ambulance before his nose caught onto the cross-species heat, and he looked in close enough see the breasts which hadn't come all the way in yet.

"The two of us didn't get in any trouble - since I was in heat, and not in control, I got a free pass, and he got a slap on the wrist, since after that first contact I'd been all over him as much as he'd been all over me. Problem was, though, word got around school pretty quick, and while it was understood that heat made even lesbians do crazy things with boys, because that contact was known it was hard to make the hate-crime charges stick, and I wasn't seen any more as a reliable witness. The case nearly fell apart, but the prosecutor, pissed off about the whole thing, went back and checked on birthdays. Two of the boys were over eighteen at the time, and I wasn't, so he threatened to charge both of them with statutory, still a felony, and it didn't require intent or testimony to make it stick. To escape that charge, they made a deal for all three to plead out to lesser charges - misdemeanor sexual misconduct, but I still got justice, and they still got expelled. So, it worked out well enough for me - better than it did for a lot of women who never saw their rapists punished at all.

"Aside from that... sadly, the usual. I was still obviously only attracted to women, and despite what happened, hardly shied away from dating women all the way through college. I still went to parties, though, parties with both men and women, and I didn't always watch my drinks like a hawk. A couple times they ended up spiked, and I wound up in some strange guy's dorm room with my panties missing. I learned pretty quick after that.

"Beyond that, it was pretty good, except for one boss I worked with straight out of college. He was the wandering-hands type, and at one holiday party he pulled me into his lap. I got out from his grasp and shoved him away, but he tracked me down later and bent me over the couch in his office. It's the one time I ever regretted wearing a skirt - the guy was strong, but super drunk and not that coordinated, and I still wonder if I'd been wearing pants whether he'd have been able to get them undone. He was able to get my panties off, though, and thanks to his stupid knot, he was able to keep it up even with all the whiskey in his system. Jerk only lasted a couple of minutes, though, and he paid one heck of a severance to keep it quiet. Since then... well, I've only worked with women for the most part, and only been with women, and what do you know, not a single one of them ever took advantage of me."

She paused, almost seeming to blush beneath her fur as she thought of something. "Although, that first time with you... which means that I guess I'm a little more than just the victim here..."

"What, that? No, that was... that was me being an idiot and drinking way more than what I could tolerate. I can't remember everything that happened that night, which was hardly surprising given how much I drank, but what little I do remember felt a whole lot better than being with a guy, even when it was technically consensual. So, that was... out of control, maybe, but seriously, I'm fine with it. Trust me - at this point, I'm more than familiar with what rape feels like, and that wasn't it, so no need to have that weighing on you. Plus, it sounds like you've been through enough shit already to be worrying about something like that too..."

"Well, if you really want to consider that mutual... I guess that's up to you, too. And I wasn't trying to just sit here and reel off a litany of every miserable thing that ever happened to me. Somehow, the more I hear from you about stuff like that, the more I listen to your tone when you talk about it... I'm not going to pry any further, but it sounds like you're carrying around even more burdens than I am..."

That was one way of putting it - although Gianna had no idea just how much she could actually talk about what she was stuck with. If she revealed too much, the boneheap might decide to intervene somehow, and she'd rather not have it wreck the one redeeming person to come out of this entire mess.

"Hmm... let me put it this way: if rape was a person, he and I could be said to have a long and tangled relationship." Which, in a way, was technically true: there was an argument to be made that Giancarlo had been close enough to being rape personified, at least some of the time, and rape had been an integral part of his existence. Heck, even as a woman, it was still just about as central, although for troublingly opposite reasons. "There's so much stuff I wouldn't even know where to begin. The amount of rape that a lot of women have experienced in their entire lives is probably close to the amount that's happened to me just recently. Sometimes I wonder if my spade's like a magnet for total shitheads who want to get stuck in no matter what. And that's on top of the couple of days a week I get to spend having heat convince me to basically go out and get myself all but raped by whoever's available. What can I say? If the story of your life is that you know you're going to get raped again, and if not you know you're just going to go right back into head and get fucked like a little bitch anyway... is it really all that surprising to be jaded about it, and just want to tune it out completely?"

Okay, maybe that was a little bit of an exaggeration, but not far off the mark - since the boneheap had transformed her, she'd been raped, or at least sent into heat and basically fucked against her conscious will, far more times that was reasonable. Her description had been vague enough, at least, not to conjure the boneheap into the room, but it had managed to conjure up a disconcerting look of sympathy on May's face.

"Wow, I... I knew you had problems with guys and heat, but what you're saying... you're really getting raped all the time? Every single week?"

"Assuming you're willing to stretch the definition to include some of the stuff that happens when I'm in heat, probably. With heat messing with everything, it's a lot harder to call it rape. You're lying there, and stuff happens, and your head is screaming how much you hate what's happening but your body's just as into it whether your mind wants it or not... it's a total mindfuck, and after a while you start wondering if maybe you're lying to yourself and you actually do want it to happen, are actually enjoying it happening... and then you end up like me, lying here in bed and wondering about all this shit..."

"I... yeah, I don't really know what to say to that. Heat is... fucked up, for sure, but to hate guys, and have to be with them every single week anyway... maybe I'd call that rape if I was in your situation, too. Like I said before, though, there just isn't a really good solution for it, and what we can do together can only handle a small part of it. I just... hate to see you like this, though. I know it's strange, considering we haven't even been together for that long, but I just have this sense that I really want to see you happy. With the shit you have to go through, I see how you can think being a woman can be that awful, but... even with heat, it doesn't have to be that bad. I'm living proof of that, at least to an extent - I dealt with all that stuff from before, but I got past it, and now I'm a happy, independent, out gay woman living her dream in the big city, and lying here beside a beautiful girlfriend who I'm beginning to care about a lot. That horrible stuff from my past doesn't own me, and the stuff in your past doesn't have to own you, either. You can turn it around - and remember, the past can mean everything before this point in time. You can find a way through that misery, I know that. Sometimes, being a woman can be aggravating - but I'm betting being a man can be too, even if it's in a different way. Being a woman can also be amazing, though, and if you can focus on that... well, maybe I can help with that..."

May leaned in, planting a light kiss on her muzzle as she ran her hand gently down the fur along Gianna's side, coming to rest against her hip. "If you ever want to be with me, for any reason, I'm here for you. And it doesn't just have to be for heat. I know we're both pretty worn out right now, but... when you're not in heat, I would love to have you over for the evening, and show you all the amazing ways a woman can be made to feel, the kind of ways that are only possible when you're with another woman, someone who knows that female desire doesn't just lie in the parts that sit between her legs or bounce on her chest. I would love to be able to set free the beauty that lies within you, that essence of being a woman that no man will ever be aware enough to taste."

"That's... quite an offer..."

"Really?" May flicked her tongue out teasingly. "Considering that you're my girlfriend, it's kind of the least that I could do, don't you think? Sure, playing with you in heat is fun, in a certain way, but that's still a little too... hetero to do much more than scratch the surface. Between women, with no requirement for some cock-like object to dominate what's happening, you'd be surprised how many different possibilities open up... but I do get it. Going into heat as much as you do, it's only natural that's where your focus ends up gravitating, since you have to constantly deal with it.

"Seriously, though... it's obvious that getting dragged to heat clubs isn't doing wonders for your state of mind. Let me introduce you to some gay guys I know who are good at helping out with it - I know it sounds odd, but trust me, it really works. Sure, the scent gets them fired up as much as the next guy, so they can perform, but they're not so into it that they're gonna go crazy on your spade. For them, it's more of a... shared courtesy, and they're more interested in the intimacy and friendliness of it than trying to pretend like they're the alpha trying to breed you. True, it's usually two of them at a time, and they're inviting you into their bed, so there's a lot of male-male intimacy in between, but most of the women I know don't mind seeing that either. It takes a little getting used to, but it's such a different experience when everyone involved is more focused on mutual relief than forceful passion. If it can make dealing with that constant heat more bearable, I'm more than happy to make introductions to some guys I know from experience can be trusted."

"I... yeah, considering what I've ended up with recently during heat, maybe that's for the best." Which, considering her previous heats had consisted of being held down and raped, forced into a van and very nearly raped, and then horrifyingly and far too easily submitting to be fucked by a bunch of dominant, masculine strangers... yeah, just about any other option would probably be far more palatable. Since she didn't exactly have a choice when it came to giving in to heat, taking care of it with someone who was just as reluctant and mercenary about it might actually be a reasonable approach.

"All right - I'll get in touch with some people, and before your next heat comes around, I'm gonna do everything I can to make sure you're paired up with some guys who know what you're going through, and will absolutely treat you right. And if that's settled for now... maybe we've talked enough about this. I certainly wasn't quite expecting this conversation to go where it did, and having you here with me, that's the last thing I want to dwell on. Whatever you've gone through, whatever you've had to endure... to me, you're a beautiful, sexy, strong, confident woman, and I freakin' love having you here with me..."

While it was certain that May had meant it as a compliment, Gianna couldn't help feeling the words stab at her a little. She didn't want to be beautiful, to be some... object of desire, and what was the point of coming across as strong and confident when it was so abundantly clear just how little power she seemed to have as a woman? Heck, she couldn't even control her own body every time heat rolled around.

And yet... lying there, feeling May snuggle up to her side, feeling her soft, fluffy feminine body pressing in close, her breast nestling in against Gianna's chest in that particular way that Giancarlo had always enjoyed... true, it hadn't involved feeling May's nipple nudging up against the base of Gianna's own breast, but it was far superior to the alternative. Sure, it was frustrating that she had to be there, feeling May's sexiness against her and knowing that all she had was an annoying female spade between her legs instead of the equipment she could actually use for that desire, but the position made her feel ever so slightly masculine in spirit - at least the situation wasn't reversed, with her cuddled up to some jerk guy's muscly chest.

No, even with what had happened at the heat club, she hadn't fallen that far. She might have to endure all of this, heat and everything else, but she wasn't giving up the core of her, wasn't giving up her heart and mind to some guy, wasn't being stuck in a relationship where she had no choice but to reside in that feminine role. May was far superior to that in every way, and really was the last bastion of hope when it came to actually being with someone without the ever-present risk of having them grapple her down and... ugh, best not to think about that. Just be there with May, drift off to sleep, and try not to dwell all that much on her currently inescapable female form, or all of the subsequent encounters that would be necessary before she'd have at least a chance to shed it in favor of renewed masculinity.

Whatever she did, though, whether she tried to ignore it or forswear it or dredge up every memory she could of Giancarlo's strength in order to stay focused on the prize she was seeking, her thoughts about being a woman, of accepting and enjoying at least certain aspects of it, stuck stubbornly with her. Whether it was another of the boneheap's machinations, or simply the cumulative weight of her experiences as a woman starting to weight on her mind... even as certain things she was subjected to seemed to only reinforce the power dynamics of Giancarlo's worldview, the fact of the matter was that there were parts of her new existence that weren't so bad. Parts that were, actually, far easier than she'd imagined to settle into.

As much as it still seemed strange, for the first time in... pretty much ever, Gianna actually felt connected to people in a tangible, meaningful way. Giancarlo had been wrapped up enough in his own stuff, and valued having as few people as possible checking in so that he could do what he liked without attracting notice, that his connections had been few and far between, and hardly worth cultivating. Jonah, a few guys on the mechanic crew that he'd swap sports news and stuff with, and that was all he'd needed, or wanted.

The thing of it was, though, that he hadn't even thought to need or want them, as he'd never really experienced them much. His interactions with people, for the most part, had been primarily about him and what he could do to them, and ultimately, in a certain way, transactional in nature - he'd taken what he wanted, and any further development, beyond contemplation of their suffering, had been irrelevant. Now, though, as a result of the current circumstance, Gianna hadn't really had much of a choice but to approach people, and relationships, in a different way - and now that she was, it was hard to deny that she was appreciating it.

Both as Gianna and Giancarlo, there had been that... certain sense of darkness, although with Giancarlo it hadn't been nearly as despairing. He'd simply allowed it to drive him, made use of it so that he could make use of his prey, pushing every bit of it upon them to feed his own power. And yet... no matter what he'd done, no matter how many people he'd savaged, that darkness, that drive, only built and reinforced itself within him, cementing that worldview and pushing towards more and more dominance.

Being so wrapped up in it, he hadn't really been able to see it from a more objective perspective, but looking at it now, Gianna actually had to wonder if that not-angel thing that occasionally possessed May was right. Giancarlo had been interested in that complete and utter dominance, in that ability to break people to his will, since high school, and it had only intensified over the years. And when you really thought about the logical extent to which that dominance could be taken, to the point of seizing power over someone's life or death... Gianna didn't think that she'd ever have gone that far, but there was a part of her, knowing everything that Giancarlo could be, that wasn't so sure.

True, in her current form, she couldn't easily enforce that dominance on others... and had in fact been forced far too often to be submissive, it had gone from being projected without to turned within, that permeating sense of powerlessness and violability that had led her often enough to impotent anger and disgustingly weak despair.

And yet... those connections that Giancarlo had eschewed, that interdependence that he'd seen only as a source of weakness, was a more potent solace to that darkness than she'd imagined. It was a completely different sort of relief, to be sure, but... in a way, as much as parts of her hated to admit it, it was actually better. It didn't require that reinforcement of power above all else to provide its resolution. It didn't make the darkness run deeper and purer, as it had in Giancarlo, but actually seemed to have the power to make it release its tight grasp, bit by bit. Of course, every additional humiliation and violation just drove it back up again, but somehow being around those friends, doing something enjoyable in the light instead of pushing lust and dread and rage into someone that Giancarlo had hauled deep into the shadows with him... there was something about it that just felt genuinely better.

It was still hard to tell, though, just how much of those feelings were genuine, and how much could be chalked up to whatever changes to her mind becoming a female had done, or just how much the boneheap had continued to play with her psyche. Some of the things that she ostensibly "enjoyed," for sure, were down to one or another of its annoying curses or manipulations. She was fairly certain that the only reason going shopping with Amanda had become a fun sort of excursion was because it had decided it enjoyed watching her willingly purchase even more feminine things with Amanda's eager encouragement. And the fact that she loved the comfy feeling of a nice, snug pair of panties along her hips and spade, to the point that it actually felt weird to try and sleep without them, or the way it actually felt somehow sexy and fun to wear a short, flouncy skirt or extra-stretchy, spade-hugging leggings... no, no matter how good it felt, or how it was now so normal that she pulled any of those things on without a second thought, that was all on the boneheap. Enjoying the company of newfound friends, though, and especially that of May... there, she wasn't so sure, no matter how much it seemed to counteract Giancarlo's worldview of being over everyone else, not with them.

Admittedly, part of the reason it was hard to evaluate was that those relationships with women really were completely novel. The fact of the matter was, Giancarlo had never really known women much in the traditional sense. Even in grade school, what acquaintances he'd had were boys, and girls had been some alien other he hadn't bothered to deal with. And once they'd become interesting in a different sense, he hadn't had relationships so much as a series of encounters, some willing, others less so. He'd never really gotten to know them well enough to quite see them as people all the way, and maybe that was part of what had led him down the particular path he took. It did mean, though, that those new relationships were, of themselves, sufficiently alien that Gianna hadn't quite been able to control her own reactions to them well enough to manipulate them entirely in the directions she'd intended, or detach herself to the extent that such manipulations could be done without some sense of... not quite guilt, but the kind of thing that made her uncharacteristically second-guess some of her plans.

Still, while her overall goals of vague manipulation might not have been progressing as intended, her disparate relationships with the trio of women she knew actually seemed to be morphing into a close-knit group of friends almost without a lot of conscious effort on her part. She still had yet to accept the standing offer from May to meet more of her friends, but May had shown up at the dealership one day while Gianna, Heather and Amanda had been shooting the breeze, and somehow they'd all ended up going to a café for an early dinner. Despite being in practically different worlds, they'd all basically hit it off, and now it was common enough for them to all get together - although there was still plenty of separate, private time between her and May.

Nevertheless, just by being there in the center of everyone, Gianna had brought them all together, and in some ways it seemed like they were getting closer by the day - even Heather seemed to have set her animosity over past events entirely aside, adapting to being friends with Gianna nearly as seamlessly as she had to being a woman. It was a friendship that Gianna reciprocated grudgingly, but still accepted, as it did somehow seem beneficial - even if, every time they got together, that uneasy feeling of being one of the girls, of being an intrinsic part of that group and that gender, still tensed in the back of her mind.

That being said, though, at least she could say that she had a good relationship with one gender, as unusual as it might be. So far as guys went, though... it was safe to say that things were generally less than desirable, with a small handful of notable exceptions.

Jonah, somewhat to her surprise, had actually managed to take her words to heart. Not that she'd actually watched him get his mack on with whatever women he'd managed to trawl, but bit by bit, she was able to see his confidence slowly returning, along with his comfort at being around her. True, it seemed basically a given that intimate contact between them was no longer a possibility - even if she'd desired it, which she didn't particularly, the mere mention of it still conjured up an intense look of guilt and horror on his face, and he usually changed the subject as quickly, and artlessly, as possible.

Weirdly, though, the romantic connection being entirely off the table had seemed to relax most of the tension and awkwardness between them. More importantly, though, without that complication in the way, their relationship was sliding back to one that was much closer to what Giancarlo had enjoyed with him. Maybe not all the way - going out together to get drunk and track down women was obviously out of the question, but without Jonah actively trying to flirt with her, it was a lot easier to just... hang out, talking sports or cars or whatever, in a way that almost allowed Gianna, for a moment, to forget about her situation. Of course, that moment only lasted until she noticed that Jonah's eyes were riveted on her chest instead of her face - the actual thing between them might have been over, but Jonah was still a guy, and his eyes roved where they wanted. Still, awkward reminders like that aside, it was nice to have at least one guy who wasn't so fixated on her body as to have only one ultimate goal in mind.

The rest of the world, though, seemed to be filled mainly with guys who had a more traditionally masculine mindset, one that clearly extended to their perceptions and intentions towards women. It wasn't exactly a mystery that Giancarlo hadn't seen women as... people, precisely, so much as objects to be desired or victims to be hunted, but being on the other end of that mindset, Gianna had come to realize, was even more disconcerting. Obviously, it made sense that women didn't see themselves as objects, but it was hard not to be aware of her breasts, or butt, or even her spade when guys were around - mainly because they didn't ever seem to let her forget they were there. And worse than that, the sort of mindset that Hugh had originally possessed was aggravatingly more common than not: plenty of guys apparently thought that because there was a woman in front of them, they had tacit permission to do with her body as they wished. Admittedly, Giancarlo had on occasion taken that mindset to its logical extreme, but as a woman, it was hard to get over the notion that some guys literally had no concept of personal space or private parts when it came to women.

At least, in one small bit of mercy, most guys never even attempted to take things to that particular extreme - although when she was in heat, basically all bets were off, hence her particular caution on those days. Even if a guy wasn't actually trying to get stuck in, though, they actually seemed to think it was a compliment to put one of their paws on whatever particular part of her attracted their amorous attentions. Which meant, in turn, that there wasn't a day that went by, especially a workday, in which both of her breasts and buttocks weren't extensively fondled. No matter what particular item of skimpy clothing she chose from the selection her wardrobe allowed her, the frequency of it happening seemed largely unchanged. If she wore a skirt, she'd end up with a hand sneaking underneath it to grab onto her panty-clad butt all too intimately. If she wore leggings instead, it at least provided another layer between them, as inadequate and fur-tight as it might be - but at the same time they highlighted rather than disguised her spade, so she got groped more frequently between her legs. Which was probably worse, considering that while being groped elsewhere was uncomfortable, violating, and beyond annoying, having a guy's hand on her spade was pretty much guaranteed to trigger that unwanted female preparation, and the aggravating wet spot that soon accompanied it.

There was no question - that particular part of male interactions in her current form was relentlessly, grindingly awful. Even worse, though, was the fact that due to how frequently it happened, the only thing she could really do was grudgingly accept it. Sure, she'd snapped back at the first several guys who'd tried it, even smacking a couple of them hard, but even that defiance had mixed results - half the guys ended up cowed, but the other half thought it made her "feisty" and only seemed encouraged to pester her more. And it hadn't made a difference either way - maybe some actually cut it out, but every new day brought a new crop of people to get their cars serviced, and a new set of male hands to "accidentally" find their way onto some part of her.

As the weeks went on, and it kept happening, she'd basically become halfway resigned to it - letting it fade into the background as yet one more annoyance set upon her by that horrid creature. Still, it meant going into work, or to the mall, or anywhere else besides May's with the grudging knowledge that her breasts and buttocks would be patted, petted, squeezed, or otherwise manipulated.

At least, in a certain perverse sense, the contacts were useful, as they generally managed to keep her from slipping too far over into the column of wondering whether she was better off being a woman. That part, it seemed, would likely stay a resounding argument towards pushing towards the challenge, albeit coming in third behind the guys who didn't stop with just groping her, and far behind the mind-bending scourge that was heat.

That part, thankfully, was ever so slightly more well in hand, in large part thanks to May - and to the small subsection of men who had no interest whatsoever in groping her, largely because they were far more interested in groping each other.

Not that Gianna particularly minded, though. So far as Giancarlo was concerned, gay guys were either entirely inconsequential, or slightly beneficial - after all, if a bunch of guys wanted to be with each other, it meant less competition for the gender he actually was interested in. Similarly, whether or not a woman was a lesbian had been nearly just as irrelevant - if he was forcing her to have sex with him no matter what, it didn't really matter whether or not there'd have been some slight chance of her being naturally interested otherwise. As Gianna, since her orientation hadn't really changed all that much - at least outside of heat - still being at least somewhat attracted to women seemed completely normal. And gay guys... in her current form, any males that lacked an immediately lascivious approach towards her had to be appreciated.

After their conversation, May had definitely come through - before Gianna's next heat had a chance to roll around, May invited her to a small café in the south part of downtown, where she'd had a nice introductory coffee with a couple that May apparently knew quite well. They both came from a clear Black Lab pedigree, not close enough in looks to seem related, but with similarly wiry, athletic builds. They also seemed to possess a level of, well, class that neither Giancarlo or Gianna had been particularly accustomed to - the sort of guys who could wear a three-piece suit while looking perfectly comfortable, and who probably knew which fork on the cafe's place setting you were supposed to eat with when, instead of just choosing whichever one was larger and could therefore be used to more efficiently shovel food. When she actually talked with them, they were predictably gentlemanly to a fault, and she realized she actually found it a little disconcerting to have a conversation with guys who looked her in the eyes the entire time, instead of letting their gaze drift inevitably lower.

They were certainly two of a kind, and while they weren't exactly flamboyant about their sexuality, it was easy enough to see how close they were - all you had to do was see how they looked at each other from time to time. In fact, they were apparently so perfectly matched that even their names started out weirdly similar: Eric and Erhan.

Despite the fact that they seemed about the least likely couple to be interested in a threesome, they agreed to the proposal that May put forward readily enough. Although... maybe it really shouldn't have been that surprising. If guys really did have a natural need to get knotted, in at least a somewhat similar way that women in heat needed to be knotted, well... a straight woman who might derive some other attachment from it could be problematic, but a woman who wanted to just get it taken care of and get back to her own girlfriend would be equally motivated to keep things simple and sufficiently emotionally detached.

Whatever their reasons, though, they were the first call Gianna made the next time she inevitably went back into heat, and they invited her over to their place after work without hesitation. And, after a particularly aggravating workday full of straining against unwanted instincts and a succession of hands touching parts of her that heat had made far too sensitive, she had to admit she felt a certain sense of relief when she pulled into their driveway.

The two of them had a small, nice-looking house in the sort of neighborhood that Giancarlo would have been bored to tears in: tree-lined, sedate, the sort of place where the only thing that would have completed the look were identical white picket fences. That being said, though, as thoroughly and completely boring as the place looked on the outside, it was remarkably different within.

Gianna could only describe the interior of the house as a combination of eastern and modern, but the medley was far from haphazard - unlike Gianna's, or rather Giancarlo's, slapdash collection of random, bargain-priced decor interspersed with completely blank walls, it was obvious that their house had been arranged by someone with plenty of experience in design. Everything was in its place, and Gianna could only guess that their placement was designed to highlight the various pieces against each other - like the curvy, ultra-modern leather-and-chrome couch in the living room underneath a trio of woodblock prints depicting stylized waves crashing up against rocky shores. In the short anteroom between the entryway and the living room, even, there was a black lacquered stand, polished almost to the point of reflection, upon which rested a pair of what she could only assume were some sort of oriental swords.

It was a little strange, trying to reconcile the eastern influences with guys who absolutely didn't look the part and even still had hints of a midwestern accent in their voices, but hey, to each their own, right? Besides, it wasn't like she was there to admire their decorating.

Well, that, and being in heat meant that she really only caught glimpses of her surroundings in between staring at a pair of male forms that were abruptly far more than compelling. No, within a couple of minutes of arriving, the only thing she'd really been interested in was finding the bedroom, and losing her clothes as rapidly and enthusiastically as possible - even if the couple she was with seemed decidedly more restrained, especially compared to the types of male responses she'd usually encountered while in heat.

In fact, the next part was downright surreal: in heat, in her underwear with two lean, fit guys in theirs, her body literally aching for attention... and sitting there on the bed with them, not even touching, nearly jumping out of her fur as they calmly began a rational discussion about exactly what they would, and wouldn't, be doing with her.

In her current state, she was admittedly a little pointed in her response that they probably should have discussed those specifics before she actually showed up with the desperation of heat in tow, but nevertheless, they absolutely wouldn't be rushed. So she sat there, her spade soaking straight through her panties as her insides squirmed with building, surging need, as she tried to keep what rational part of her remained focused on the negotiations.

Thankfully, the discussion was reasonably short, and covered a few simple things, mostly having to do with not pouncing on them or trying to initiate things before everyone was ready - and, to keep both partners happy with the arrangement, that she would accept some mutual play between them while they were recovering between knottings. The Giancarlo part of her, upon hearing that, was vaguely uncomfortable - but the heated Gianna part of her, considering the idea of two lithe, naked guys doing sexy things while she watched, was, to her consternation, somewhat intrigued. In any case, considering that they were literally her only immediate avenue for relief, she had no reason to even consider raising any objections.

Really, the only controversial part of the discussion surrounded the sexual positions that they were willing to consider. Considering the fact that it was an encounter of convenience and necessity for all involved, and that all of them were ostensibly homosexual and not attracted to each other, there was no real benefit to actually looking at each other face to face during intercourse. However, since that also meant not having to look up and watching a woman's body bouncing above them, it was quickly determined that the best approach involved neither party being on top. At least that also meant she wouldn't have to be on the bottom looking up at a guy thrusting on top of her, but it did mean that the only position left that could be credibly attempted during heat was doggy-style, either standing against the wall or on all fours on the bed.

She wasn't really interested in standing, and the bed would obviously be more comfortable - although if her prior experience using that position in heat was any guide, doggy-style would end up being more face-down-ass-up, moaning into a pillow. Not exactly ideal, but that was the only real palatable option left on the table - and her heat was building to enough of a head that she'd acquiesced, calmly shrugged off her panties and set them aside, and then assumed the position so they could all get it over with.

Strangely, being in that most traditionally submissive position aside, there was an even greater sense of relief than normal once things began in earnest. As they were doing it solely to satisfy a basic need as much as she was, there was none of the other dominant male nonsense to go along with the mechanics of their motions. Instead of trying to pin her down or hold her tightly in place, their hands rested on her posterior with only enough pressure to guide her reciprocation of their stroking, and instead of trying to talk dirty or growl their dominance into her ears, there were only the basic grunts and gasps that came to them as involuntarily as her own moans. While perhaps it didn't measure up to the ridiculous, overwhelming sensations of a guy intent on completely dominating her reactions, it was definitely better to feel that steady, stroking relief without any of the awful masculine stuff that usually came with it - in this particular case, there was something to be said for boring.

Even the process of being knotted was dramatically better than it usually was. Sure, she still found herself yowling into the pillow her muzzle was buried in, since apparently that was just a normal reaction to being in that position during heat. The flip side of that, though, was something about that particular position actually made her spade seem to strain less around the knot, which meant less force being applied to her by the guy trying to get it in. Instead of feeling like her spade was getting absolutely wrecked by a guy's determination, all it took when Eric reached the threshold were a few seemingly automatic thrusts, forceful enough but almost perfunctory, with none of the added, driving force that most guys seemed to use. She felt the first spread her some, the second stretch her more, but before the third could stretch even to the point of genuine discomfort, the knot was inside, tight and close and far more than enough to trigger the burst of climactic relief her heat-flooded body had been waiting for.

True, she still wasn't thrilled about the way that the knot made her body completely surrender to her heated climax, or the way it made her just lie there, whimpering into the pillow, as cum erupted inside her. At the very least, though, there was no extra knot play afterwards, no grappling or dominant grinding, no horny or condescending male comments, just quiet panting as they both slowly recovered their composure before eventually pulling apart.

Maybe the nicest part, though, was the fact that, for the first time in her heat, there were actually a few real moments of respite. Jonah, possessed, had only let up when his body had no choice but to recharge, and even then he'd been all over her - and the heat club, after the first group was finished, had basically been nonstop. Eric and Erhan, though, weren't nearly as hard-charging as that initial trio, and certainly had no intention of showing off in a similar fashion. In fact, once both of them had knotted her, they pulled away entirely, leaving Gianna to bask happily in the afterglow without the aggravation of some guy still trying to molest her or hold her close.

No, in those moments of winding down, their attention was focused primarily on each other, and relaxed as her body was, it was easy enough to just curl up on the bed next to them and watch.

What Gianna saw, though, seemed... well, downright impossible, at least so far as Giancarlo was concerned, although everything she'd experienced as a woman to that point seemed to back it up. Sure, some guys were more dominant overall than others, and there were plenty that pretended to be modern gentlemen, but that usually only lasted until the clothes came off.

Everything Gianna knew about canine sex was that it was the kind of sex where dominance was key, and it was easy to assume that same-sex relationships would have a similar dynamic at play. Heck, even in her own relationship, as much as she hated to admit it, May was usually the one on top. And with two guys, with their natural sense of dominance... she'd expected such a dynamic to be even more pronounced.

And yet... the way they were with each other seemed to express a gentleness she hadn't thought any guys were capable of in bed. Sure, a couple of lesbians, maybe, but... surely one of them had to be all over the other, right? But there they were, half-embracing, kissing and caressing and nuzzling each other in a way that seemed almost surreally mutual. And it wasn't just that they were so relaxed from what they'd just done that they weren't up to anything more intense - their erections were already returning, their tips touching and rubbing together as they brought their embrace closer, but even that contact didn't make their motions more forceful or urgent. In fact, there wasn't even a hint of the usual aggression she saw on the faces of men as they pursued her - instead, they were looking into each other's eyes, nuzzling their foreheads together with genuine smiles on their faces. Calm, equal, thoroughly comfortable without even a hint of control or dominance being exerted by either one. Absolutely, perfectly mutual.

It was a strange revelation to be sure, seeing something like that. Never mind the fact that in her state of heat, seeing two men playing arousingly with thick, knot-swelled erections in full view was interesting her in an entirely different way. The fact that she was witnessing men expressing their desire in a way that was totally decoupled from that dominant male drive, well... it wasn't the kind of thing that Giancarlo had thought possible, so he certainly hadn't entertained the thought of trying it, with either men or women. Well, that, and the fact that it probably would have bored him to tears.

No, the reason it was interesting now, to her, was that she'd grown so accustomed to male lust and force becoming intertwined that she'd almost begun to think that the entire world was that way, that the two couldn't be uncoupled, that as long as she was in that form, sex would mean some sort of submission on her part, then humiliation at the role her weakness had made her accept. And maybe, with the curse, that was the best she could expect, for the most part. But... seeing the way they were with each other, realizing that there was another way, that there were guys capable of something other than making her feel submissively female... it gave her hope that for the sex she still had to have, to meet the boneheap's challenge, there were ways, and people, that might make it at least halfway bearable.

Being with them certainly at least qualified as that, and when her heat flared back up again and it was time to get back on all fours, she did so with a genuine acceptance in both mind and body. While the subsequent matings were no more exciting than the first, she was more than happy with the unencumbered relief that they provided. Not happy to be going through them as a woman, of course, but considering the alternatives, she was convinced that it was about the best that could possibly be made of her irksome heat.

Eric and Erhan went a couple more times apiece, and after the additional combined knottings and subsequent deep relaxation of the accompanying heat-busting climaxes, Gianna was more than happy to curl up into a fluffy ball, snuggle in against the sheets, and doze in the permeating, all-encompassing afterglow, idly watching through half-lidded eyes as her two partners in heat stayed busy with their own relaxed brand of closeness. Even the spunk pooling inside her somehow didn't seem as bad, considering the far more civilized way it had been placed there.

Soon enough, though, the session wrapped up, and Gianna parted ways with at least a tentative promise of another encounter the next time she was in heat - they all seemed to have gotten what they needed from it, and in a far superior way, so at least in certain respects it was worth looking forward to.

Walking back to her car, Gianna even marveled at the fact that her legs, while relaxed, weren't wobbly at all like they'd been the last time, and she felt relieved far more than overloaded or overwhelmed, certainly a far cry from the numb, used daze that the heat club had brought on.

Admittedly, it wasn't all perfect - it had still been heated canine sex, and as she walked along, she could still feel plenty of their seed sloshing around warmly low in her belly... and dripping steadily past the pads of her spade to coat them and the crotch of her panties. Even making heated sex just about as good as it could possibly get for her, it was impossible to avoid those lingering aftereffects, the ever-present reminders of her current form and role. No matter how good it was, it still involved her getting fucked.

Still, so long as it was in service to that challenge... yeah, she had to take it now, but once that challenge was in hand, it was definitely going to be someone else getting fucked for a change. If this was how she had to endure it... so long as heat was something she could eventually turn in, along with her current form, she could handle it.

And really, having a way to reasonably tackle heat was a huge part of it. Eric and Erhan, between them, gave her enough to get through an entire day of the stuff, and while she still had to struggle intensely to get through the day after she'd been with them when her heat came back in full force, having May there to help her ride out the back end of it once she'd wrapped up work for the day had covered enough of it, even if just barely. True, there had been a few hours of gritting her teeth, clenching her thighs together, and watching the clock hand creep agonizingly around, hours in which she'd been tempted more than once to walk down to the mechanic's break room and let whoever happened to be there bend her over the purpose-built table. Finding enough acceptable contact to get her all the way through... simply put, it just wasn't quite there yet.

She was close, though, closer than she'd imagined she could get without the ignominy of submitting to something like the heat club. Maybe, if she could find a way to sneak Alan in on her lunch break or something, she could have heat all but sorted, and then she could focus on managing the days between heats and getting through to the challenge as unscathed as possible. Until then, while it wasn't ideal... she'd made it through the aggravating times between often enough that she could certainly struggle her way through them again.

Overall, though, it was hard to complain all that much. Sure, maybe the month wasn't really going by exactly the way that she wanted it to, but it hadn't been horrible either - no out-of-control heats leading to her being pounded by far too many anonymous men, no especially forceful or traumatic sexual encounters, and a thoroughly average amount of the humiliating molestation that had effectively become background noise in her life. It had been... okay. She'd made it through, racked up some more points, and even the boneheap hadn't been especially intrusive in its machinations. Even as her thoughts continued, even as she struggled to keep them down and focus on the ultimate prize, everything was basically on track. Until, of course, one day it most decidedly wasn't.

It hadn't been anything but a thoroughly normal day - work, going out to lunch with May, more work, the occasional groping, hearing Heather and some guy going at it in the mechanic's break room as she'd walked past. Then she'd gone home, nuked up some dinner, and lounged on the couch in a T-shirt and panties while watching some random dreck on TV. She probably should have been wearing more, but... fuck it. It wasn't like Giancarlo gave a shit about wandering around the house in his boxers, so why should Gianna? It wasn't like there was anyone there to see her, and the only reason she was wearing the panties in the first place was due to the fucking boneheap anyway.

No, as it turned out, the only reason it mattered was that after a while, her mind began to wander, along with her hands, and if she'd been wearing something else, maybe it would have gotten in the way. Somehow, though, her thoughts kept wandering, and eventually they wandered over to various guys, including Alan, that Australian Shepherd cop that she'd previously thought about getting with, but hadn't quite managed to make it connect. He'd been sexy enough, in that cute, unassuming way, and- wait, sexy? How could she possibly think of him that way, beyond the idea of using him for heat? And yet, she obviously had, as that was about the point she became fully conscious of where her left hand was: snugged in between her legs, fingers tight against the fabric of her panties as they probed in an obviously sexual way against the pads of her spade beneath. A spade which, in obvious response to her careless fantasy, was already decorating said fabric with her arousal. Dammit! That was the last fucking thing she wanted, to be thinking about stuff like that, and all of a sudden sitting there in her panties felt beyond stupid.

As she got up to change, though, there was a sudden, frantic knocking on her front door. For a moment, she froze - the hammering was loud and didn't seem to be stopping, but at the same time she was standing there in her panties with a visible wet spot on the crotch. Still, whatever was going on seemed to be urgent, and there wasn't much time to change. She did spot a sweater that she'd idly tossed over the couch, though - fluffy, pink, and all too feminine to wear all that regularly, but easy enough to quickly tie around her waist. It probably looked stupid, too, but at least it was covering, and it allowed her to check the door before the commotion caused her neighbors to make a scene on top of it.

She went to the door, grumbling about never having installed a peephole, and went to open it a crack - only to have an extremely panicked Velasco shove the door open resoundingly and bolt by her in a blur, only fully resolving when he collapsed onto the couch, panting as his eyes darted around wildly.

Gianna slammed the door back shut and wheeled on him, glaring, but before she had a moment to get a word in edgewise, he was already babbling nonstop.

"Oh, thank fuck that you're here, G! I know, I know, you're super pissed at me, and I get that, I know, but I just didn't have anywhere else to fuckin' hide. I mean, shit, you know? I told you I'd be gone, that I'd ghost, and I swear I really wanted it to go that way, wanted everything to cool off and get back to normal. I didn't even rape for a while, you know? Just to keep everything cool, I had to do that, but you know how I get when I can't blow off steam. It just builds, and then I gotta find another way to blow it, and man, did I blow it this time..."

"Velasco? First, shut the fuck up for a moment so you can actually form reasonable sentences. And then, once you've done that, actually tell me what the fuck's going on! But I gotta warn you, it had better be fucking apocalyptic for you to be back here..."

"Yeah, G, I mean, it kinda is, but... hey, what's up with that sweater? Looks kinda weird, you know..."

"What's up with it? You do realize that when you bang on people's doors at night they might be... asleep?" Well, maybe not, but far better than the actual reason she'd been sitting around in her underwear. "And that when you bang on the door, it doesn't give them a lot of time to get fucking dressed? You're the one who barged in here, so fucking deal with it! And seriously... answers. Now!"

"All right, all right! It's just... you know how I get, right? I gotta have something going on. Gotta have that risk, that adrenaline, that fucking tension or it doesn't work. That's why I gotta... do it, you know? And when I don't, to stay out of trouble, I gotta get that risk someplace else. So, I... bet on some games, some races, things like that. Get that rush of winning or losing, but while I'm pretty good at getting women, I kinda suck at picking who's gonna win some lame-ass sports game. So, I spent what I had, took out some lines to play more, spent them, lost it all, and couldn't pay them back."

"Right. And let me guess - those people you owe money to are trying to track you down, so you thought it would be a good idea to come back here and hide."

"Yeah, kind of. I mean, seeing your face, I get that it was a super stupid idea, and if I gotta be gone, I'll get gone again, but... shit, G, I was desperate, you know? I don't have that kind of planning that you do, and when I get in too deep, I don't know how to just be all clever and weave my way back out of it. So I just... I need your help, okay? Just tell me what I need to do to get free of this before they hurt me, and I'm gone, really. I'll make it up to you, really I will! Please, just... help me, somehow..."

Gianna smacked her hand into her forehead. Dammit, how incompetent could Velasco be? He was usually more competent then this - but then again, he'd largely been competent back then because Giancarlo had kept him in line. Left to his own devices... his predicament probably wasn't all that surprising, really. No, the real problem was that things had finally started going along decently, everything had been working, and now this... stupid, completely avoidable hassle had to fall squarely in her lap again. And whatever their history...

"Velasco... why the fuck should I help you right now? You do remember that you fucking raped me the last time we met, right? And how you said you'd make it up to me, in part by being gone and not complicating my life any more? And yet, here you are, back in my life and begging for the kind of help I'm really not inclined to give you right now. I mean what the fuck do you think I can do, anyway? You got in hock to some guys. You need to pay them back. It's not like I'm gonna float you a loan with the mythical extra gazillions of dollars I have floating around from my super-posh job as a maintenance advisor. This is your problem, you fix it! And seriously, get out of my house - go find a fleabag motel to hide at or something if you really want to try. You thought it would be a good idea to come here, with these guys chasing you, and put a target on my back too? Go on, get outta here!"

"But I-" Velasco began, but trailed off, his eyes widening as the slight squeal of hinges indicated the door was swinging open behind her. Of course, in her haste, she hadn't bothered to lock it...

"Yes... I don't think Mister Velasco will be going anywhere for now... and neither will you."

Gianna spun around, to see the obviously open door - and the way it inadequately framed the trio of men squeezing through it. They were big, burly, an Akita and a pair that looked basically like Chows, all of them pressed into suits that seemed just a tad too small to contain their bulging muscles. The Chows seemed particularly ridiculous, with thick fur poofing out from their sleeves and ankle cuffs, and their oddly cute, fluffy faces didn't do much to enhance the "menacing gangster" vibe they were apparently going for. Their eyes, though, glowered with enough unhinged danger to freeze Gianna in her tracks - and if that wasn't enough, the sawed-off, pump action shotguns each of them held definitely did the trick. The Akita was armed with just a baseball bat in his hands, but it was clear enough that of the bunch, he was the one who meant business.

"Oh, oh shit, oh fuckin' shit-" Velasco started up again, his panicked voice about a half-octave higher than it normally was, but all it took was for the Akita to slam the business end of the baseball bat down on the cushion next to him to get his muzzle to clack nervously shut.

"You know, if you want to shit your pants, go right ahead. It'll probably be the least bad thing that happens to you."

"No, I mean, you don't gotta do that, man! I can pay, I can fucking pay, somehow I'll pay..."

"Right. Sure you will. We already checked all that. Your accounts are overdrawn, what friends you have won't cough up a dime, and what family we could find doesn't have anything worth taking. Nah, the only thing left you've got to pay with is your own blood, but hey, an example's always useful - you know, to get the other shitheads who do have money to more willingly part with it."

"N-no, man! I'll do anything! I'll, I'll rob a bank or something, I'll work my ass off, I'll make it happen, I swear!"

"Like you're the first chump to promise that. Besides, it's not like banks keep cash worth stealing on hand anymore, otherwise people would still be robbing them. Nah, that's not gonna fly, although..." The man's gaze swung over to Gianna, who couldn't help but gulp a little nervously. "So, this one's your piece, huh? Damn... always did wonder how skeevy little shits like you manage to get chicks who are obviously above your station."

"It's not like that, I mean-"

"Oh, she's your long-lost half-sister or something? Yeah, I guess if I squint, I can see the resemblance a little. But you know... actually, that does change things a little, doesn't it?" He grinned, the kind with the sort of troubling malevolence Giancarlo had been more than used to. "I mean, if it was just your girl... guy like you probably has one in every town, so not exactly a lot of leverage. If it's family, though, maybe you're going to sit up and take notice. Not that she's exactly living it up, but maybe I can extract a little something to make this worth my time. And as for the rest... yeah, maybe I'll just have to take it out on her instead, while you get to sit there and watch. After all, might as well make your terrified, broken ass a walking, talking example of what happens when you mess with me."

"H-hey!" Gianna yelled, suddenly feeling far too vulnerable standing there in little more than her underwear - a vulnerability and fear that had quickly cut through her rage. "I'm not his fucking sister, or girlfriend, or any of that! All I did was go to high school with him, and I don't know why he's fucking here!"

"What, really?" the Akita replied, smirking incredulously. "Do I have a sign taped to my chest that reads 'I'm gullible, try to pull one over on me' or something? A guy like this goes to ground, he doesn't just show up at the door of someone he barely knows. And considering the way you're dressed to greet him at the door - yeah, you two are a thing, somehow, and if you are actually family... well, whatever. If does mean, though, that there's gonna be one heck of a message received after we're done with you."

"Y-you can't be serious-" Gianna said, but all the Akita did in reply was nod to one of the Chows - who grunted, reached out, and grabbed the edge of the sweater, yanking it off of her to reveal the completely inadequate panties beneath.

"Yeah, I think I'm serious about it," the Akita said, flashing even more teeth as he grabbed Velasco's arm and hauled him up off the couch, poking him in the guts with the bat handle when he tried to struggle out of the man's grasp.

The Chow grabbed Gianna's shoulders and shoved her stumblingly forward, back into her bedroom, before planting a hand in the small of her back and sending her tumbling down onto her bed. She spun herself back around, pulling back up into a sitting position to glower at them, but it didn't do a whole lot of good. The Akita shoved Velasco into a corner, and gestured at the Chows again, with one walking over to stick his shotgun against the bottom of Velasco's muzzle. The other one, though, was already unzipping his fly and trying to fumble his cock out through it.

"Oh, don't give me that look," the Akita said as Velasco glared silently at it. "You're getting off easy. I was planning on having you dig your own grave at the end of this - cliché, I know, but I was going to keep your tail, pin it on my wall to keep subsequent debtors focused on the consequences of not paying me. I mean, sure, I'm gonna hurt you a little, but from what I've learned in this business, you can hurt a guy, but it doesn't make him pay. Hurt someone close to him, though, especially someone female, and he'll break far more readily."

He gestured back over at Gianna, looking to the Chow beside him - he'd managed to fully extract himself, and while he wasn't exactly huge, he was more than hard.

"I mean, shit, it's gotta sting, doesn't it? There she is, right there on the bed, and wouldn't you know, she's actually wet and ready for you. And yet, I still get the feeling that she really is your sister, or half-sister at least. I mean, lowlife like you, that shit doesn't surprise me one bit. You want to love her like that, not my problem, but... my associate, here? Not so much in to love, but he definitely likes to fuck. And when I say fuck, I mean he likes to tear shit up. He's only got to give it to her once, and she's not gonna walk straight for a week, and not because she enjoyed it."

The Akita leaned in towards Velasco's terrified face, giving him a malevolent grin filled with plenty of sharp teeth. "But why stop there? I really want to teach you a lesson, so... I don't think I'm gonna make him stop. I think I'll let him fuck her so hard, pound her hips so brutally, that maybe she doesn't walk again, ever. Or maybe I'll let him fuck her with the barrel of that shotgun, see how badly that manages to fuck up her insides. No, I'm gonna break your little bitch, here, and that, in turn, is gonna break you. And then, only then, am I going to be satisfied."

He looked back down at Gianna, taking in her fear, because that was the only thing still showing on her face. She knew, lying there at their mercy, that the situation was well and truly fucked. Even the vestiges of Giancarlo, spinning through every bit of guile and strategy it could come up with, didn't know how to get out of a situation that had spiraled so quickly out of control. Only one exit to the room, no way to flee. No way to talk it through. No way to fight superior strength and numbers even before considering the shotguns. No fucking escape from a danger that was suddenly very real.

She knew her body could take a lot, but if they were going to do what they claimed, if they were really going to break parts of her - that was a level even Giancarlo wouldn't stoop to. But if they did, if they made it so that she was so messed up she couldn't fuck again, couldn't get points, couldn't do this, if she was trapped, disabled, completely at everyone's mercy... and yet, there was no way out. She had to do something, the Giancarlo still inside her demanded it, but aside from filling herself with useless terror and impotent rage, what was there left to do?"

"I'll pay, all right? I'll seriously pay! I, I have a storage locker somewhere, I think it's got a few things I could sell, it wouldn't be everything, but it would be something, right? Just let her go, let me pay, I'll do it! Fuck, I'll sell my body if you want, just-" Velasco shut up as the Chow clanked the barrel of the shotgun against his jaw.

"No, I do think it's a little too late for that. I think at this point, we're going to make your girl here pay in pain no matter what, and you're gonna watch. We finish with that, then maybe we'll let you pay something to not break her entirely. But she is getting broken."

He motioned to the other Chow, who took a step forward onto the bed, his fuzzy, strangely nonthreatening face grinning tightly as he stroked his cock as hard as he could get it. Gianna braced herself, to fight somehow, even as she cast around for where the Chow had set his shotgun down. If she could get to it... but she couldn't even bring herself to handle guns anymore. No way to run, no way to escape, no way to fight, and the sort of fucking that she couldn't possibly endure nearly imminent-

-And then, without any other indication or premonition, the boneheap was just there. It appeared so abruptly that it seemed to displace the empty air around it, with a weird, loud whump that instantly made Gianna's ears pop.

Velasco, of course, dropped his jaw in gibbering fear, completely paralyzed by the unraveling situation. To their dubious credit, the gangsters weren't immediately terrified so much as surprised and confused - one Chow even managed to bring his shotgun to bear on it while the other one just kind of stood there, with his dick still in his hands. The Akita snarled, baring his fangs at the boneheap's abrupt appearance.

"What the- Who the fuck are you supposed to be? Her crazy cosplaying boyfriend or something?"

"fuck normally, or begone." The boneheap, it seemed, wasn't messing around.

"Excuse me? Are you out of your stupid, pathetic mind? You're the one with a shotgun shoved in your face, right?"

"play by rules or begone. mine to decide."

"All right, what the serious fuck is this?" The fact that the boneheap just appeared, out of thin air, seemed to be slowly sinking in. "You'd better watch it, buddy. If you think you can mess with me..."

"primitive combustion weaPon irrelevant. muscle, threat irrelevant. female is... part of game. cannot play game if inJured to extent threatened. want to comMit rape, fine. want to all rape in turn, mutliple times, acceptable. crippling, damaging, breaKing... is not. if attempt made to carry out threat, feMale will not be one made broken."

"Really? And I should listen to what this freakshow has to say?" He nodded at the Chow with his dick out, who was looking over at him uneasily.

"Um, boss, are you... sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. So this guy has one weird card up his sleeve. So what? All that's gonna do is piss me off. And you know... why am I even being this pleasant? Go over there, grab one of her arms, and bend it around until something snaps. Make it so she's screaming in pain when you start raping her. If this... whatever it is keeps complaining, then we'll just break the other one, too, and see how it likes it."

He turned back to the boneheap, smirking. "You see? No one, and I mean no one, tells me what to do!"

"provided warning. unheeded. provide consequence instead."

Even as the Chow took another hesitant step forward, the boneheap's skeletal arm whipped out - and suddenly the Chow's head was impacting on the ceiling, hard enough to crack the plaster, before ricocheting back at an odd angle as he was slammed back prone into the floor. A moment later, he bounded back up, and Gianna barely had a chance to notice that his cock was suddenly bent at a nearly impossible angle before the man thudded back into the ceiling. He bounced between the two surfaces like a hard-thrown superball, thudding back and forth several times before being given one final carom off the wall, shaking it with the impact before somehow bizarrely landing back on his feet. He took one wobbly step forward, eyes rolled so far back his sockets actually showed white, before crumpling to the floor and lying there completely still, the only indication of life coming by way of a low, agonized groan.

The other two were rooted to the spot, goggling at the impossible, invisible beatdown. Velasco was actually shivering, his jaw clattering audibly, and by the dark stain spreading across his jeans, he'd actually pissed himself at the sight. The gangsters, though, had a different response to that sort of fear.

"Shit... b-blast him! Blast that motherfucker! No one messes with me and gets away with it!"

The Chow swung the shotgun back up, fumbling with the trigger - but another gesture from the boneheap and the barrel twisted effortlessly back on itself, as though the metal was no more solid than a cylinder made from modeling clay.

The Chow just stared at the barrels, bent back towards his own face, before dropping the gun like it was white-hot. The Akita, though, took advantage of the distraction to let go of the bat, instead pulling an imposing, thick-barreled revolver from inside his jacket - and before the boneheap could attend to it in similar fashion, he pointed the thing at its cowl and pulled the trigger.

The gun went off with a deafening boom in the enclosed space, muzzle flash glaring across Gianna's eyes and sending her blinking and reeling as it went off again and again. All six rounds were expended in short order, leaving the man clicking the weapon's hammer against an empty chamber, his own muzzle quickly clenching in fear as he took in the result.

All the shots had managed to do, of course, was blow holes in the cowl and nudge it off the closest thing the boneheap had to a head, revealing the pyramid of bleached bone that put paid to any notion that it might be anything normal or even conventionally living.

"begone." Not any louder, or more forceful, just the same sound produced by the awful, calculated clattering of bone, and yet it sounded clear and true even through the intense ringing in Gianna's ears.

It was clear enough that the others had heard it too, as the still-conscious Chow had also managed to piss himself. As for the ringleader, he gave the boneheap another look, his face tight with terror, before carefully setting his revolver down on the foot of the bed, even more carefully turning around - and then bolting out of Gianna's place like his tail was on fire.

The other Chow quickly followed suit, not even bothering to check on his unconscious partner. The boneheap seemed to shrug, using its one arm to nudge the now hole-filled cowl back into place, before using it to levitate the brutalized Chow into the air, the man's cock flopping about while still kinked at an odd angle in the middle.

Gianna, somehow, was together enough to follow the boneheap as it easily hovered the unconscious gangster into the doorway, passively watching as the others bolted down the stairs before hurling their companion at them, the man's bulk smacking into them hard to knock them both sprawling on the grass in front. Soon enough, though, they recovered sufficiently to haul their partner into the backseat of their car before jumping in, gunning the engine, and heading off at a speed significantly above the residential limit. Somehow, Gianna doubted they'd be trying to collect that particular debt again anytime soon.

She slammed the door shut again, making sure to lock and bolt it this time, before heading back to her bedroom and the cowering Velasco. This time, though, the first thing she did was pull some leggings on - not perfect, but at least clothing. As an afterthought, she grabbed another particularly stretchy pair and tossed them in Velasco's direction, watching as he somehow caught them.

"What- what am I supposed to do with these?"

"Wear them, I guess?"

"But-"

"What the fuck do you want? You can wear that, or you can wear a skirt, because that's what I've got. You don't like it, try not to piss yourself next time."

"But that, that thing-"

"Is still in the living room, and still probably wants to have some... words with me. Probably with you, too, so I'd suggest you up your game before talking to it. If you weren't able to get those gangster douchebags to feel sorry for you, it's definitely not gonna work with that. Got it?"

Velasco gulped, but eventually nodded, stripping off his pants and underwear before pulling on what Gianna had given him. As expected, he looked absolutely ridiculous, the clinging, unforgiving fabric wiggling unflatteringly along with his wobbling balls every time he moved. Gianna couldn't help but smirk to see him even more embarrassingly tied up with her stupid clothes - it certainly didn't make up for the mess he'd just put her through, but at least it was something. Shit, though... if the boneheap hadn't intervened when it did... no, that sort of mess wouldn't be one that could be forgiven easily.

Velasco, however, wasn't exactly given a chance to apologize. As soon as they stepped back into the living room, the boneheap spun towards him, finger-bone extended to point right between his eyes.

"interference with game problematic. too probleMatic to ignore."

"Game? W-what game? Look, um, whatever it is they call you, I know I screwed up, but-"

"silence. caused disruption. required to interVene directly. make existence known more than necessary. too much compLication. no further interference tolerated, so problem must be solved diRectly."

The boneheap's arm whirled back, and threw something at Velasco. It smacked into his chest, revealing itself to be the wallet transported from Velasco's sodden pants.

"Que?" Velasco said, looking confused as what seemed to be the wrong words came out of his mouth.

"as stated, problem solved. now citizen of place known as paraguay. language, identifiCation, money in wallet adapted. will stay there until game is resolved, at least. no calls, letters, onLine contact. while there, rape, don't rape, irrelevant. want to return once game comPlete, do not interfere or draw notice."

"Por supuesto que lo haré, voy a ser bueno, lo prome-" Velasco stammered, but before he could finish, the boneheap waved its arm again, and Velasco barely had enough time for the shock to register on his face from whatever hit him before he was simply gone - ostensibly sent off to Asuncion or something.

Gianna waited for the boneheap to turn around, or say something to her, but instead it merely lingered, seeming to regard her for a moment more from beneath its cowl before slinking back into the shadows and slowly fading back into invisibility as it usually did. When she returned to her bedroom, though, she noticed that the presence of the invading gangsters had been erased - the bent shotgun and spent revolver were gone, the smell of expended propellant had disappeared, and even the plaster on the ceiling looked like it had never been cracked. The only thing still there was Velasco's soiled pants and underwear, which she unceremoniously tossed in the trash. Only then did she allow herself to flop back down on the couch, try to catch her breath, and parse what happened.

It hadn't been good, to be sure. While Giancarlo hadn't exactly been on the right side of the law, he'd generally been smart enough not to mess with women related to the sort of actual criminals who could do him harm. It was a sobering reminder, though, that while Giancarlo had been rough in his own way, there were people out there that were far worse than he was. People that were now doubly dangerous in Gianna's current state, and people that Gianna apparently wasn't being nearly cautious enough in avoiding. True, those particular ones had arrived due to something outside her control, but then again, so was catching someone's eye and having them follow her home regardless. At the very least, she needed to remember to keep her damn door locked every time.

That wasn't exactly the main takeaway from what had happened, though. Obviously, that had more to do with the boneheap's intervention. She was fairly certain that if all the gangsters had threatened to do was rape her, right now she'd probably be lying on the bed with one of them on top of her. At least it told her one useful thing: the boneheap wanted her intact to make sure she could still play its sick game at full capacity, and while it would let her be raped as much as her body would handle, she was probably safe from particularly serious injury.

Actually, though... perhaps the boneheap had let slip a little more than it had anticipated. Right at the start, when it had first confronted them... while the context was a little vague, it had said "mine" in a very particular sort of way. This, from a twisted creature that had seemed generally incapable of using pronouns or possessives. What that meant, exactly, Gianna wasn't sure, but one thing seemed certain: whether or not it was due to the game, the boneheap was heavily invested in its manipulation of her, to an even greater degree than she'd anticipated - despite its seemingly projected apathy, there was no question that it wanted a certain sort of dominion over her. It wanted to keep manipulating her, and apparently it would intervene however it needed to in order to make sure its manipulations would remain front and center. Which meant, in a weird way, that Gianna would probably be safer in certain ways for the duration of the contest - but at the same time, there was no question that the boneheap's monitoring and manipulation would certainly be unceasing.

For the next couple of days, though, the boneheap was nowhere to be seen. The day after that, however, was the day before her next heat was set to begin - and as she lay on her bed, feeling the first vestiges of it starting to set in, the boneheap once again abruptly appeared in front of her. This time, though, it wasn't to gloat, or threaten, or anything else. It was attached to her somehow, it had to be, and it only seemed to confirm things when it offered a somewhat unexpected proposition.

"game has been... enterTaining. enough to add new option, see reaction. before, simple enough: get to challenge, pass or fail, or conCede. now, one additional choice."

"Which is?"

"come to new agreement, new sort of game. agree to permaNently become female, allow continued presence, observation, occasional manipulation. in return, remove any curses placed, some other compelling rules or conDitions of game. heat and behavior changes learned or ingRained remain, maybe some changed back with effort. not reQuired to concede, admit defeat. simply new agreement. choose to accept or not."

Gianna, of course, declined it on the spot, but the boneheap made more than clear that it would be on the table indefinitely before it deigned to leave her alone again. Still, the nature of the offer was obvious enough - the thing really had somehow come to enjoy toying with her, and was unwilling to let her go easily. Why else would it make such an offer, just to ensure that it could stick around and continue to manipulate her?

Still, it was another option, whether or not she wanted to take it, and considering the way her thoughts still kept vacillating back and forth, she knew the option was troublingly at least on the table for her as well. Especially when she considered what the boneheap's intensified interest and desire to stay in her life seemed to mean: if it really wanted to stick around that badly, when she actually got to the point of challenging it, the boneheap certainly wasn't going to go easy on her with its challenge conditions. From what she'd heard before, if it got to the challenge and she won or lost, or even if she just flat-out conceded the game, either way the boneheap was heading elsewhere for a while - a condition that it would seem to avoid if she agreed to its new deal. Which meant that in a way, that deal was even more dangerous, but despite it all, its expedience had a certain level of subconscious appeal. Her mind kept going back to it every so often, feeding her whatever reasons it had for staying as she was - and every so often she felt herself wavering.

If she was going to make this work, then, it couldn't just be on the fly anymore, scheming and twisting and reacting to whatever new wrinkle the boneheap decided to put before her. She needed a real plan, a real commitment, a way to make things work and push herself, wavering or not, across that finish line. Make it to that challenge, and the fucking sack of bones was out of her life for good, but getting there... that was going to need one heck of a plan for sure. But that being said... she was going to do it. She was going to grind through it, week after week after week. She was going to get fucked, and then fucked again, and then fucked a bunch more, and then go into heat and get fucked a ton more on top of that. And somehow, through it all, she was going to hold onto the core of herself, onto every single bit of Giancarlo that she had left within her. She would plan, she would make it work, she would get to that challenge - and whatever it was the boneheap put forward, she would take it on somehow. Maybe she'd still fail, maybe she'd still be stuck, maybe it would all be for naught - but she'd try, and somehow, some way, she'd be rid of that infernal menace for good!

That being said... whatever she wanted to do, her thoughts were already beginning to scatter and drift towards far baser things, as her heat kicked off in earnest as it welled aggravatingly within her. No, there would be a plan, but for now it would have to wait - first, she had a phone call, to a certain particular set of guys, than needed to be made...