FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

As the workday got underway, Hugh began to feel a certain sense of dread about the encounter she knew was coming up, and when Gianna had finally padded up behind her, she'd been all but resigned to suffer through whatever horrible gloating would surely be in store. After all, the whole damn thing had stemmed from Hugh's not-so-subtle plan to use rape to bend Gianna to his will, and the fact that Hugh was the one who ended up not just female, but the woman that her erstwhile friends had all decided to take turns with, certainly wouldn't be lost on her intended target. As devious and vengeful as Gianna was, Hugh was even sure that what had happened wouldn't be the last of it.

Which was why she was so surprised when the conversation went suddenly and unpredictably in a dramatically different direction. Somehow, unbelivably, she wasn't the only one who'd been so throughly done in by the boneheap: Gianna, who Hugh thought she'd known for months and months, had actually only been Gianna for a small fraction of that, instead transformed from one of the mechanics that she couldn't even remember.

As ludicrous as it sounded, it also made a horrible sort of sense, especially now that she'd seen just how thorough the boneheap had been about its transformation. Apart from her friends, who'd seen it happen, everyone else seemed to think that she'd always been that way, always been "Heather" - and what kind of a stupid name was that? No, Hugh was Hugh, no matter what everyone else decided to call him- her, even if she couldn't exactly tell them as much.

She could, however, talk to Gianna, as perverse as that sounded - whatever they'd done to each other, now that they were in the same boat, she was the only one who knew what going through it was like. Somehow, just knowing that bizarre connection was all it took for the confusion and emotion to come bubbling out of her. There she was, the woman that had raped Hugh, mercilessly abused and manipulated her, and Hugh was spilling her guts to her about everything that happened.

The fact that she understood and was listening seemed to be enough to let it happen, and as uncharacteristic as it was, the confusing, unfamiliar feelings and emotions still swirling around in her system made it even easier for all of it to pour out unbidden. She'd even said things she hardly wanted to admit to herself, and through it all Gianna, instead of sneering or mocking her, actually seemed to take it seriously, offering up characteristically blunt but more than reasonable advice. Sure, it wasn't much, but it had been enough, enough at least to be able to sit back down, ignore most of it, ignore the fact that she was basically sitting with something pressing into her seat that was still sensitive and a little sore from what it had been put through previously, and just do her work as best as she could. Enough that she could ignore the couple of guys she talked to who were far more interested in staring at her rack than her face, and the mechanic that casually goosed her butt as she walked by in the hall. Well, okay, she did feel just a bit annoyed by that one - dammit, she was supposed to be the one showing off her dominance through stuff like that, not the other way around! That is, if she still had any dominance left...

She got through the rest of the day, though, suffering through the indignity of having to sit down to pee and more random male glances that she still didn't really know how to deal with. At least, unlike the day before, no one was really trying to press the issue, and the one solitary grope was about the worst of it.

Of course, she also had to listen to, and at least sort of participate in, Amanda's near-constant stream of friendly conversation every time she wasn't with a customer. In a way it was nice, having someone who'd been the source of her interest for so long somehow genuinely like her, but at the same time, it was a lot easier to get work done back when she'd been intentionally ignoring him.

Mercifully, the workday was over quickly enough, and Hugh was happy to get in her car and drive back home, ignoring the ringing of the phone in her purse as she drove. Like the several calls that had come in throughout the workday, she could only assume that they were from one or another of her so-called friends, probably wanting to say things that she didn't really want to hear or respond to. Apologies, or proclamations of love, or... or whatever that bastard Frankie would want to say. As far as she was concerned, though, they could all go fuck off, for all she cared.

Well, Frankie could, at least. He'd certainly been the one to set the entire mess in motion. Sure, some of it was Hugh's own stupid fault, but it wasn't like he could have predicted some eldritch horror would suddenly appear in the middle of it and turn him into a woman! Frankie, his supposed friend, could have done the respectful thing, could have realized it was all going to shit and backed the fuck off, just shut it all down - whatever he'd decided to do, his two hapless sidekicks surely would have followed. In fact, knowing what Hugh knew about them, there had been little to no chance of them actually jumping her on their own - it wasn't until Frankie had stepped up and done her first, showed them how it was done and how vulnerable she was to it, that they'd gotten up the courage to force her. And she liked them... well, not as much now, but liked them enough, knew them enough, that it at least hadn't been as horrible as it could have. Maybe there was some forgiving them, some day, but Frankie... ugh. No, she didn't even want to think about that, because if she did, then she'd have to think about what had happened, what he'd done to her, how she'd experienced it, and she'd done more than enough of that already.

No, better to put all of that crap out of her mind, and try to just wind down, relax, find some way to think it all through. If Gianna was right, as much as Hugh was loath to admit such a thing, maybe this mess wasn't irreversible. Maybe there was some hope that whatever that weird boneheap was, it just wanted to fuck with her for a while, and when it was done, she could go back to properly being Hugh again. That, though, meant trying to keep her wits about her, trying not to succumb to all of the weird new sensations and feelings, and just... find a way to be Hugh again, so much as that was still possible.

Sure, a lot of the stuff that Hugh had thought he was made of, all the Man Code kind of stuff... well, that had all been pretty much shattered once his friends had thoroughly and convincingly gotten her well-acquainted with just how overwhelmingly female she now was. Still, there had to be some core of... of normalcy, at least, of just going through her day, living the parts of it that had nothing to do with being a man or a woman. Sure, there were a bunch of new, weird parts of her body, but for the most part nothing was being done with them - reheating a frozen meal in the microwave wasn't any different of an experience with tits jutting out from her chest than it was otherwise. Well, at least until she misjudged opening the door and had it smack into one of them, making it wobble disconcertingly inside her bra.

That being said, sitting down, watching television, and actually eating the meal wasn't any different. She even went and grabbed a can of beer, despite knowing that women tended to have a lower alcohol tolerance, and as a corgi, her tolerance wasn't really all that high to begin with. Still, the beer didn't really seem to affect her all that much more, just getting her at least a little bit more relaxed, and everything was pretty much normal, or at least normal-ish, until she had to get ready for bed.

For the first time in a while, Hugh decided to take a second shower in a day, borne from a desire to somehow finish cleansing herself from what had happened before. Actually taking the shower, though, was still... disconcerting. Hugh was fairly used to using the time to casually masturbate, and it was more than frustrating to instinctively reach down to give things a little rub, only to find his fist grasping at empty air, or the flat patch of fur where his cock used to be. Washing other parts of herself wasn't much better, feeling her fingers sink in against a butt that was far more plush and pliable than it ought to have been, and a tail with an extra-poofy coating of feminine fluff.

The breasts, freed from the containment of her bra, were just absolutely bizarre, bouncing around on her chest every time she moved her body in a meaningful way, and felt way too squishy and squeezable when she tried to actually wash them. It was a bizarre feeling, almost being turned on by touching her own tits, while at the same time hating the fact that they were even there in the first place.

And down there, between her legs... she reached down there only long enough to make sure that things were clean, and not doing anything weird, and left it at that. She was still a little sore and way too sensitive, in a way that was squirmy and more than a little disturbing. Even the quick blast against it from the handheld showerhead to rinse the soap off was enough to make her hips jolt on their own, a reaction that was far too uncomfortably feminine, and a stinging reminder of what she'd been left with to replace her proud, if not especially lengthy, cock.

It left her grumbling as she dried off, and it didn't really get much better from there. Hugh, of course, was used to sleeping in underwear, as there had been no need for a guy to wear more. Now, though, all she had to contend with was a drawer of bras and panties, none of which came even close to the coverage, or looseness, of proper male underwear. Still, she wasn't much interested in wearing the dress-like sleep shirt that was nearby, and the only pajama-like thing were a pair of bottoms that were effectively fur-tight leggings, so... bra and panties it was. At least she found some that were normal enough, not frilly lingerie or anything, and as much as she still didn't like the way that they clung to her far more snugly than what she was used to, she cared far more about falling into bed. At least, thankfully, she had a day off, and could allow herself a proper chance to rest and recuperate...

She slept a bit more normally this time, not just dead to the world, and actually dreamed a little - it was hard to remember exactly what about, but the one thing she could recall was that, within the dream at least, she had definitely still been her original male self. Which, while nice in a certain sense, did make it even more disconcerting to wake up to the feeling of the blanket tucked in tight around her still very-present breasts, a sensation that snapped her instantaneously back to her new, feminine reality.

Apparently, she had managed to take the opportunity to sleep in a little, and as she awoke, she couldn't help but blink from the light streaming in the window.

Still, as she shook her head to get the rest of the way awake, something felt a little off, and it wasn't just the fact that the sun was higher in the sky than it was supposed to be. Maybe it was the shadows, or the slightest background sound, or the way the bed was ever so slightly tilted in the wrong way, but all of a sudden, she had the feeling that she wasn't alone.

She sat up with a start, her gaze darting around the room, although it didn't have to go very far before the intruder came into view.

Frankie was casually sitting on the other end of the bed, his legs dangling off the side, leering over at her with a wide, perverted grin on his stupid mutt muzzle.

Even more troublingly, he was mostly naked, his medium-length brown fur fluffed out randomly in his usual unkempt style. The only thing he was wearing was a pair of snug black trunks, the fur on his upper thighs looking a little ridiculous as it puffed out below the leg-bands.

Seeing them made Hugh flash back on a random conversation he'd had with Frankie a while back, something about how because of his fur, he wore loose boxers exclusively - except when he went out on a date, because if her got lucky, he wanted to wear something that would show off his goods and get his date hot and bothered, increasing his chances of getting lucky. Which meant that if he was wearing those, there was no question about what he had in mind...

Hugh felt, somehow, like she should have been scared, especially after what had happened a couple of days ago - she knew now from experience that Frankie had no qualms about steamrolling over any objections or resistance she could muster. In the moment, though, seeing him there, wearing his shit-eating grin like he was king of the world, caused a sudden bolt of rage to surge through her.

Without even really thinking about it, she reached over, grabbed a spare pillow, and chucked it right at Frankie's face. It didn't do any damage, of course, but at least he flinched back and put up his hands to defend himself - whether it was genuine, though, or meant to mock her impotent rage, Hugh wasn't sure.

"Frankie, you little shit! What the fuck? You seriously broke into my house to watch me sleep? How the hell did you get in here, anyway? Put your clothes back on and get the hell out, dammit!"

Frankie, of course, was still grinning, entirely unperturbed. "Hey, c'mon, you don't have to be like that. We've been friends for... how long? Long enough. Plus, we all know where you hide the spare key, so it's not like I was breaking in..."

"Are you kidding me? Of course it's breaking in! What, you think any woman is actually gonna want to wake up with some perv staring at them? You're lucky I didn't do worse to you!"

"Eh, you're not gonna hurt me, we both know that. Even when you were a guy, you didn't have the stones for that sort of thing. And really, you could thank me for coming over - even got breakfast all prepped in the fridge, so once we're finished, all we gotta do is reheat it."

"And you think I'm supposed to be impressed? Especially when you, you... hell, you just admitted it, didn't you! You actually came over and broke into my house, watched me until I woke up, just so you could look me in the eye and tell me you're gonna try and rape me again! The fuck is wrong with you?"

That actually knocked the smile back a little bit on Frankie's face, although the slightly bared teeth that replaced it didn't strike Hugh as an excellent replacement. At least when he spoke, his tone was something other than menacing.

"Really? You're still gonna call it that? Jeez, you become a woman for like two fuckin' days, and all of a sudden you're just throwing the playbook we all had out the window... but whatever, though. I mean, you're the, ah, gal who thought arranging a real, actual rape for some chick you were jealous of was an okay thing to do. But what we had? C'mon. I was there too, y'know. Sure, you were a little hesitant, but I mean, in your situation, who wouldn't be? I knew you didn't mean it, that you just had to get over yourself a little - heck, all I had to do was look down and see how slick your crotch was to know that your body was begging for it, even if your mind didn't know how to ask. Fuck, when I hauled you up and got ready to put it in, you could have used your claws, really hurt me, got me to back down and back away, but all you did was flail like you weren't even trying to get my attention, like you didn't really want me to stop. So I didn't. I sure did notice, though, how those protests fell right off once we got a rhythm going, and the way you came, that's not something a woman does unless they're enjoying what's going on, unless they're more than happy that it's happening. Not to mention, the way you just let Matty and Stan go at it, no protests or nothing - there's no way you really meant what you said when the two of us were going at it. So don't give me that crap about rape. When you're with me, you want it."

"B-bullshit!" There was no way that Frankie was right about that - was there? "And right now? Right now I'm telling you to fuck off and get the hell out, that I don't want anything to do with you! You come at me now, how the fuck is that not rape?"

"Because it ain't gonna be. Seriously, when did you become so sensitive? It's not like I'm gonna grab you, pin you down, and just force you. I mean, sure, we're gonna have sex - you're here, I'm here, we're both in our underwear, so obviously it's gonna happen. But it's not like that, it's not like it's some violence or power thing, like I'm holding you hostage. It's just... your obligation, now, as part of our little group, now that you're female."

"Obligation? Are you high?"

"Nah, although that's not a bad idea - should've thought to bring something with me. No matter, though. I mean, you can't have gone that much female-crazy, though, to forget what we were all about, the four of us - being men, getting women, getting the pussy that's rightfully ours. It only makes sense, then, that if one of us did get turned into a hot chick, crazy as that sounds, obviously she'd put out for the rest of us. I mean, if it had been me it happened to, I'd expect nothing less, and if you were still a guy and I was a girl, I know you'd be pressing for the same thing. That's all it's about - not rape, nothing like that. It's just that we were denied pussy for so long, and now that you've got a limitless supply, it makes sense that you've got to share the wealth. Right?"

"That... that's totally screwed up, you know that!" Even if what he said did make a certain sort of sense, at least from Hugh's original standpoint, there was no way she was going to admit it.

"Not any more than the stuff you put us up to, hey? Plus, the amount of times we all had to sit around listening to your bitching and moaning, you probably owe each of us some happiness just for that. And jeez, happiness for all of us is what it's supposed to be about - it's not like I wanna hurt you, or have power over you or something! We're just gonna have some fun, is all. Remember what I said - I want you to stay this way, want you to enjoy being a woman, so that's what I'm here for. I'm gonna show you just how awesome you're gonna feel, being a woman in the arms of a man that knows how to treat you right, knows how to make you enjoy the best parts of having a guy who knows what he's doing inside you. Trust me, once we're finished, the only thing you're gonna want to do is sigh happily against my chest and purr about how amazing I was..."

"What? Okay, I take it back - you're not high, you're fucking delusional. I mean, you'd have to be, if you think I'm actually gonna be grateful that you're here with your oh-so-generous offer to at least make me feel good while you're forcing your dick in me! You really think I'm just gonna sit here, and... and..."

"Well, I figure you'll probably be on your back eventually, but... yeah, basically."

"Rrgh... fuck this, and fuck you! I'm supposed to be a, a man, dammit! I'm supposed to be the alpha! Me! I don't have to stand for this crap!"

"Yeah... I'm betting the spade nestled up between your legs might have a different opinion on that. But hey, I get it. I guess your mind didn't exactly change over the same as your body did, so you still gotta learn some things about your new situation. So, lesson one: since you're a girl, now, all that hierarchy stuff, all that alpha, beta, omega, whatever, you don't have to give a shit about it. And really, all that is, when you get down to it, is a bunch of guys having a dick-waving contest about who's got the right to get out there and get lucky. But since you ain't got a dick anymore, no problem, right?

"Because that's the thing," he said, moving his hands in front of himself and holding them flat, one at the level of his belly, the other at his head. "The way the hierarchy really works. All of us shithead guys, we're dicking around down here in the gutter, but women, you in this case, you're way up here. You're the prize, right? You're the thing that's beautiful and awesome, you're the thing everyone desires. I mean, sure, sometimes it doesn't always look that way, sometimes people bitch about it, but it's all compliments, right? You're not gonna smack someone you don't like on the ass to show your appreciation for it, or tell them how hot their rack is. And sure, guys have to take charge, because for some reason women get it in their head that they're not supposed to enjoy sex because that would make them a slut or something. Lucky for you, though, you didn't have to grow up with all that shit being shoved into your head, so it's not like you even have to have someone push you until your inhibitions evaporate. You could be the perfect version of a woman, really, once you get past the fact that you had your cock traded in for a spade. All you gotta do is just let happen what deep down you probably want to happen anyway, just let yourself get used to that female role, and you can have everything you ever wanted - most any partner you've got your eye on, and as much sex as you can handle. And seeing as how I'm here to get you comfortable with all that, we can just take that first step right now..."

It wasn't exactly what Hugh had expected him to say, and for a moment it actually gave him pause. The fact of it was, Frankie wasn't really wrong about any of it. Hugh had always known, deep down, that he wasn't really an alpha, that he'd never be one. That's why he'd tried so hard, overcompensated so much, because he couldn't stand to admit it to himself. And sure, he'd wanted women more than anything, but if he was going to be honest about it, not even so much for the sex as much as validation - proof that all his bluster and bravado had amounted to something.

But when it had happened, with Gianna, when the lie had been put to even that... maybe being turned into a woman had cemented it, but that's when that notion of himself had really fallen apart, with nothing left to replace it. And now, now that she actually was a woman... dammit, could Frankie really be right?

No - she knew that Frankie was a jerk, and that he'd do whatever he had to if it meant getting some. What he'd done, she couldn't help but hate him for it. She had to, right? But when she'd been with Matty, with Stan...

No! There was no way she was going to let that, that... anomaly get to her. She'd just been turned into a woman, after all, and everything in the van had just gone completely crazy, like she hadn't been herself. And besides, this wasn't really who Hugh was, right? Alpha or not, Hugh was still supposed to be a guy, and if she just gave in, gave in like a little bitch to the guy who'd shoved her up against the wall of a van and raped her, how could she even deserve to be?

"You know what? That's not gonna happen. Sure, I may have this... this stupid spade, and breasts, and womanly stuff, but I'm supposed to be a man! And a real man doesn't bend over for anyone, especially not a jerk like you!"

Frankie actually chuckled a little at that. "Gee, it's like you've never heard of gay people, huh? Seriously, though, not that I'm into it myself, but I know a couple of guys with biceps as big as my head, and maybe they can't take a knot all the way but they sure as heck can bend over... ah, whatever. Like I said, though, you're a woman now, and from what I can tell you're not gonna be a man again any time soon, so it seems to me like you might as well let me help you get used to taking the dick before someone decides to force the issue..."

"What, and you're not? Like you're fucking one to talk, considering what you... wait, what do you mean, I'm not becoming a guy any time soon?"

"Hey, you're not the only one who saw that freaky bone-guy, right? That dude did not look like he was one to mess around. And seriously, if all he wanted to do was turn you into a chick for kicks, just some one-and-done thing for us to have a go at you right there in the van and all, you'd be back to being a super-pissed-off guy again by now. The fact that you're still very much a woman tells me that it's not just some whim, that it wants you to get the whole experience. But c'mon, don't tell me you're gonna bring up that van shit again. We already went over it, and I'm sure I don't have to remind you how I got to watch you come around all three of our cocks. Believe me, there wasn't a whole lot of guesswork involved - as loudmouthed as you were as a guy, it doesn't have anything on the way you are now. In fact, I'd bet anyone wandering anywhere near that parking lot knew exactly what you were feeling. And trust me, those were not cries of protest. Huh... and there I am, going over it again. Not that I mind, exactly - I do like the look you get on your face every time I coax you into remembering all that. Too bad I can't really see you blush underneath all that fur, but that thing you do with your ears is so fuckin' cute... although that's probably not why I did it. No, I'm betting there's another part of you that's blushing right about now. But hey... go ahead and prove me wrong. Prove you're not getting into this. Just pull those covers down a little more and show me that your panties don't have a nice little wet spot on the crotch..."

Dammit, did they? Hugh still wasn't exactly familiar with how everything down there was supposed to feel, but Frankie was right again - just thinking about what had happened with Matty, back in the van, had made things start to feel really weird again between her legs, in a very warm and squishy sort of way, and her panties did feel like they were clinging to her differently than they had before. Shit... was she really getting aroused in front of this fuckhead? And yet, if she did go to look and there was a wet spot, that would probably be all the justification Frankie needed...

"F-fuck you! I didn't want any of that!"

"Yeah, sure, just keep telling yourself that. In the meantime, though... well, my knot just locked into place, so whether or not you want to admit that right now you're soaking your panties clean through in anticipation of what we're gonna be doing, let's go back to being pragmatic about this for a moment. All that stuff I said before is true. You're a girl now, you've got that obligation, and we are gonna have some fun. Now, I ain't gonna force you - heck, I didn't really the first time, not if you want to be honest with yourself. But at the same time, you and I both know what's gonna happen. And while it's not like I've got any interest in shoving you down, we're not even close to being done here. So, say what you want, do what you want, but here's how it's gonna go: there's only one way you're getting out of this bed, and that's with a nice warm bath of my cum coating your pussy. And since that's ultimately the way you want to feel anyway, since you're probably getting beyond wet just at the notion of my cock giving you the hammering you need, there really isn't any point in keeping up this charade, is there? Let's just get you going the rest of the way, and then we can get this taken care of and have a nice breakfast together. How's that sound?"

"It sounds-" awful, Hugh was going to say, but that was about the point that Frankie hauled himself up onto his knees, flashed that pervy little smile of his, and tugged the tight trunks down from around his bulge to reveal the full extent of his manhood.

Not that Hugh hadn't seen it before, back in the van, but even looking at it clearly, without all the panic she'd been feeling, it still seemed freaking huge. And yet... it had been inside her, everything except for the knot, and even now she could almost feel its presence, like her body was... anticipating it...

That couldn't really be what was happening, was it? Just seeing him in front of her, though, less than the length of the bed away, his thick cock jutting straight out and seeming to point straight at her... for a moment, she couldn't seem to help flashing back to that moment in the van, pressed up against the wall, feeling that hot tip press in between the pads of her spade. That point of intense warmth, that firmness, the way it had socketed in against them like it was supposed to be there, the way its strange and intimate sensation had frozen her resistance and spread her open, had made undeniable the fact that she was a woman, all the way a woman, in that moment before he'd forced his way inside and fucked her effortlessly to her first agonizingly submissive and horribly feminine climax stretched around the entirety of his thick, throbbing length...

The recollection faded nearly as quickly and suddenly as it had appeared, but its effects were clear enough. Despite herself, despite her loathing and fury at the jerk of a man in front of her, she could feel her bra constricting around nipples that were fully, almost throbbingly erect, and a line of warmth thrummed from between her legs and up into the lower part of her abdomen as every single feminine part of her insides seemed unwillingly stoked into life. There was no question what her spade was up to now: from the way the fabric of her panties was clinging to it, already slick and sodden, she didn't have to wonder anymore if there was a visible wet spot. The only saving grace was the fact that she was still under the covers from the waist down, although considering that her bra just seemed to be cloth, with no padding or other concealment, one part of her embarrassing and unwanted female arousal was still at least partially visible to the leering Frankie.

Rrgh! How dare he make her feel this way? Especially after all that, especially after the van, they way he'd pushed past all her protestations, the way he'd made her feel all those deep, throbbing feminine things that Hugh was never supposed to have felt, never supposed to have been excited by. But he had, and now there they were, feelings horribly and indelibly seared into her mind, feelings of a wrongly female body activated into a wrongly submissive desire. He'd made her feel all of it, made her take on that role, made her discover that she actually... liked it. After all that, after twisting her entire worldview and sending her self-esteem spiraling out of control over the course of a few violent, passionate minutes, there he was, waiting to subject her to it all over again. This whole mess... well, maybe Hugh had initiated certain things, but she'd never have been that messed up, never have been in that position if it weren't for Franke and what he'd done. For that she was furious, but it was a fury that was quickly becoming tinged with fear and that horrible, automatic sense of female arousal, and that same, terrifying inevitability about what he was going to do, what he was going to make her feel...

Well, fuck that! Before, she'd been stunned, confused -but now she knew, unfortunately, what she was, and there wasn't anything surprising whatsoever about what Frankie intended. Which meant that there was absolutely no reason not to fight back... well, aside from the fact that Frankie had several inches on her, more than several pounds, and plenty of that extra weight was masculine muscle. Which, in turn, meant that... well, there certainly wasn't any reason not to run away from his sorry ass, at least until she reached something sharp or heavy enough to hurt him with...

She reached down, grabbed a corner of the covers, and tossed them up and over towards Frankie in the hopes of distracting him. At the same time, though, she lunged in the other direction, almost like she was diving towards the opposite end of the bed.

Frankie, though, wasn't distracted by the bedclothes at all, and was too damn close and too damn fast. His arm shot out, easily hooking over to intercept Hugh, who ran into the strong and unmoving arm with the lower part of her chest. She all but doubled over, watching her breasts bounce ludicrously within her bra as the air whooshed out of her, and all Frankie's arm had to do then was move just sharply enough that it sent her sprawling back onto the bed, legs flailing for a moment before she managed to get them underneath her again. Her breath still wasn't really back, but maybe Frankie had gotten off balance, and the only thing she could think of was to spring back up and leap towards the other side - and got about as far as her first attempt before Frankie's other hand caught her shoulder, diverting her momentum and sending her spinning back onto the bed, landing face down into her pillow and feeling Frankie patting her panty-clad ass condescendingly before she turned back over, glaring up at him with gritted teeth and renewed fury, all but refusing to admit that the mere feel of Frankie's touch within its vicinity had left her spade even warmer and wetter than before. Dammit, how could she be so pissed and aroused at the same time?

If she couldn't escape, though, it was time for Fuck It, Part Two - and she was feeling furious enough to go through with it, as stupid as it might be. She lunged back up, snarling like an animal as her fist flew forward, and Frankie didn't even try to intercept her or flinch away. No, he just kept grinning, even when she popped him square on his muzzle, hard enough to snap his head back. The rest of his body, though, didn't stun or crumple in any way, and perversely the punch somehow seemed to make him harder, his tip and shaft flushing a deep, vibrant crimson. No, he was ready, and confident, his easy smile and unwavering erection clear enough evidence of that. In fact, it pissed High off even more that his punch seemed to have provided nothing more than encouragement, without leaving even a drop of blood or any obvious sort of mark.

"Heh, all right, fair enough," Frankie said, chuckling as he smiled down at her. "You can struggle and fight if that's what you really want to do, or you can keep trying to jump off the bed and look like a fool doing it, but I already told you there's only one way for you to get off of this bed. But hey, you know what? I get it. There's still enough of a guy left in there somehow that you can't let it go without a little dust-up. And you know, that's fine with me."

Frankie leaned forward, cocking his muzzle in Hugh's direction. "So go ahead - get it out of your system. Show me what you've got. Burn the rest of that hot-headed guy stuff right on out of you, and once you do, you can let the rest of those more feminine emotions bleed through. After all, that part of you already knows what it wants, and how much more sense it makes to do away with all this nonsense and get down to business..." He nosed his muzzle down a little, his gaze clearly pointing towards Hugh's crotch - which, thanks to her stupid gambit, was now all too clearly visible, and obviously soaked through with the aggravating indication of her own unwilling but nonetheless present readiness.

Hugh snarled at Frankie's cockiness, every bit of rage she could muster surging to the surface, tensing her muscles - and subtly twitching her hips, a motion that Frankie obviously noticed, and left her seething even more.

"Oh, you want it? Then I'm going to give you every fucking bit of the pain you deserve, you fucking bastard!"

Hugh lunged forward into her own kneeling stance, rising up enough that she was just a little underneath him, and started swinging at him with both her fists, hammering on his cheeks and muzzle. Hugh, though, had never been much of a fighter at all, and probably wouldn't have done all that much even as a guy - and now that Hugh was a woman, her punches seemed to have next to nothing behind them at all. Even if they did, Frankie just seemed to shrug them off, letting them glance across his muzzle while barely even wavering his stupid, pervy grin.

She probably should have slapped him, which would have at least carried more momentum into the blows, or clawed at his face, as even blunt claws could do damage. The thing was, though, that while Hugh was more than well aware that she was now a woman, and had already been through things that had felt like they were just about as female as possible, Hugh still had enough pride that she couldn't bear to fight like that - it was just too girly, too much an admission of weakness. And yet, perversely, weakness seemed to be all that she was showing off, as her rain of quick, short blows was completely ineffectual.

After a minute or so, seeing how futile it was, she finally just stopped, panting and growling and all but sobbing in impotent frustration. The only consolation was the thinnest trickle of red dripping down from Frankie's left nostril, but other than that, he still looked aggravatingly unfazed.

"So... got it all out now?"

"You... you fucking shitty asshole bastard..."

"Hey, you can call me whatever you want. If that's what you want to moan when my cock starts getting you going, trust me, I ain't gonna mind. That being said, though... man, you are not ladylike at all. We have got to get you used to being a woman already. And how about that? I think I know just the thing to kick-start that attitude adjustment..."

His hand flashed out, and a moment later his palm tucked in against her back, right between her shoulder blades - it landed gently, not a smack at all, but with enough muscular force to pull her chest forward, sufficiently close in to him that even through her bra, she could feel the pressure of him against her nipples.

Suddenly, she was right there with him, feeling one of his hands gliding through the fur on her back in a strangely subdued way - a way that in any other situation she could imagine finding almost comforting. In that particular one, though, all she really wanted to do was push him away, but before she could try to get her arms in between them, his other hand was already tracing under the line of her jaw, guiding her muzzle to tilt upwards to look at the angular, masculine face looming incredibly close above her. Still, his hand was pulling her further still, craning her neck up as far as it could comfortably go, as his face pulled closer, closer, that chilling confidence burning in his eyes-

-and then his muzzle was pressing in hard against her own, a kiss so sudden and so forceful that instead of doing something sensible, she actually gasped in surprise. It wasn't much, but it was enough to crack her jaws open slightly, enough to release the muscular clench that would have held them firmly shut. It was the only opening that Frankie needed, at least, to use his own muzzle to work on her, tilting his head and somehow nudging his own jaws into place to all but prop hers open, as his hand shifted to the back of her head and defied her desperate attempt to pull back away from him, to disengage from the bizarre muzzle-lock of his aggressive kiss.

There was no escaping it, and even as she squirmed uncomfortably against him, even as she got her hands in against his chest in a completely useless attempt to push him back, she felt his long, wet tongue pushing past her own jaws and invading her mouth. Even his damn tongue was stupidly muscular, more than her own, and she could feel its warm, slimy length wrestling with hers, pressing it back down against her palate as it slithered back and forth against its surface.

Fuck... in a weird sort of way, it almost felt like sex, like some weird echo of what had happened before. There wasn't the same thrusting, wasn't the same sense of stunned, incomprehensible sensation, but he was still in way too close, she could feel far too much of him against and around her holding them together. And just like before, he was penetrating her, the thick muscle of his tongue stroking along the soft inner flesh of her mouth, poking and prodding and playing with her, massaging down along the surprisingly sensitive surface, pressed so intensely against her own taste buds that she could sense the strange saltiness of his saliva.

Somehow, it was just as alien, just as bizarre as the first time he'd taken her as a woman, and just as it had been before, all she could do was be there, trapped, feeling him working inside her, feeling him stirring up those unusual sensations - and, just like before, despite how uncomfortable and invasive it was at first, the stimulation of it quickly sapped her resistance as her body, receiving it all intensely enough that her mental protests seemed inadequate, was more than willing to succumb to the perverse pleasures being pressed into her.

She felt her heart beating faster, warmth beginning to flush across her chest, a core of passion starting to tense the rest of her around it, enough that she felt her own tongue start to move, writhing back against Frankie's massaging pressure. Soon enough, they were fully intertwined, twisting, throbbing muscle fully enmeshed in a hot, slick haze, and it was quickly mirrored by an equally intense heat throbbing through nipples that were once again keenly sensitive - and, a moment later, an excited flush of a different sort that sent her hips rocking back, grinding her panty-clad spade down hard against the mattress and undoubtedly leaving a trail of her own slick wetness against it.

In that incomprehensible, writhing moment, the horrible realization finally hit her. She was with Frankie, the same horrible, rapist asshole who'd abused her before, and despite that, despite her hatred and loathing for him, she was ready for him. Not just wet, not just physically capable of doing something - she knew well enough that when it came to canines, all it took was a little bit of rough or intimate handling, or even looking at the wrong sort of guy, for that particular response to flare up. No, she was actually, really aroused, as much as she'd ever felt as a woman, at least.

Thanks to his intense, sensual violation of a kiss, by the time he pulled away she knew exactly what he saw: a face looking back at him with that sort of dazed, breathless expression that meant a woman had gone completely weak in the knees, and that all he had to do was lay her back on the bed, rock himself forward between her thighs, and her spade would be easily, eagerly open to him. Already her hands had given up fighting him, and one was already flat against the front of her panties, moments away from curling her fingers in against the newest and most alien part of her, some unknown instinct driving her to massage against it, to make sure it was wet and yielding enough to engage instantly with Frankie's waiting shaft.

Dammit! There he was, still taking up most of her field of view, still grinning with that stupid masculine confidence, and even though he'd released her, even though his hand was only petting lightly along her side rather than holding her there, she was having a hard time mustering the strength to push back away from him. She really was dazed, her body trembling, and her mind still dwelling on what she'd experienced, like it had decided to buffer the sensations somehow and keep them trickling through her. She could still feel his fur against her, still had the taste of him on her tongue, and yet it wasn't all accompanied by the thorough sense of revulsion she should have felt from it. Even his condescending voice in her ears wasn't quite enough to lift the daze all the way, or pry her back from where she still rested against him.

"Heh... I'm guessing that you're attitude's nice and adjusted now, right?"

"You... you b-bastard..." Hugh replied, but the weak indignation in her voice didn't even sound particularly believable to her.

"Hey, absolutely nothing to be ashamed about. After all, it's just the two of us here. No one to impress, no one you've got to prove yourself to. And besides, it's not like what you're doing is something unique to you. Remember what I said? I'm gonna make sure you get used to being a girl, and part of that's making sure that you get the whole experience. Feel all that stuff that women get to feel, make sure that you know it, so that you can learn to want it.

"And that, right there, is lesson two: a nice powerful kiss like that, for a guy, sure it's fun, and it gets him hard, but for a woman, a kiss like that is an experience. I dunno what it is exactly about it - maybe it's because most women take the tongue rather than give it out, that it's another type of penetration, so maybe it just gets their minds dialed in to that 'taking something inside them' mode. Shit, it's not like I've been with an absolute fuckton of women, and it's not like I really asked them about it, but what's there to ask when you can see it right there on their face? On your face, too, as a matter of fact, which means I don't even have to ask if you're wet - I fuckin' know it.

For a moment, his grin shifted from confident to downright predatory. "In fact, with a look like that... well, I can tell you know what it means too, and just exactly how much resistance I'd meet with if I decided to press the issue right here and now. But like I said... I'm not gonna sit here and let you call it rape, and if I did that, maybe you would. The fact is, though, you want it, you know you want it, and all you gotta do is get past whatever's got you stuck enough for you to actually say it. And you know, I'm pretty patient - with the knot in place, it's not like this hard-on's going away anytime soon. I am more than happy to keep kissing and petting and touching until that fire's burning hot enough within you that you strip off those panties yourself, spread your legs, and let my cock take your body exactly where it wants to go. And I'm sure you know the rules from there - once the tip of my cock even brushes against your spade, well..."

"Rrgh... you don't just listen, do you?" Hugh replied, finally finding enough strength to push back away, rocking upright again, but not really moving enough to distance herself from him. He was still only a few feet away, easily close enough to touch, and his thick, hard cock, complete with its bulbous knot, still jutted forward from between his legs, pointing up at her purposefully. Just glancing down at it was still enough to make her hips squirm and that warm, weird female arousal become even more intensely focused around her spade, but looking back up at Frankie's dominating eyes and masculine muzzle wasn't a whole lot better.

"Listen? And yet, you seem like the one who isn't listening to what her body is trying to tell her..."

"Oh, I can hear it just fine, you fuckhead! Of course I'm fucking aware of it! But it's still... just because you kept doing things to my body until I got all flustered doesn't mean my mind wants to go along with it!"

"Mmm-hmm. Tell me, then... look at me, honestly look at me, and see if you can call me disgusting to my face again."

"Er, I... you're..." She wanted to say it, she knew that she wanted to, but the more she looked at him, the more she kept... feeling stuff, enough that each time she did it was distracting enough to derail both her fury and her larger train of thought. He couldn't really be attractive somehow, could he? No, it had to be the messed-up female stuff that was happening, it couldn't be any other way... but somehow, it was hard to convince her own mind that the disgust she'd felt before was still there, or that it hadn't been replaced by, by some sort of... not desire, it couldn't be. This was the guy who had straight-up raped her, after all. But despite that, despite all the shit he'd already put her through... there was a part of her, small but quickly growing, that really did kind of want to feel her body hugging that warm, snuggly shaft waving tantalizingly right in front of her...

"Yeah... that's what I thought. And you know, you don't even have to admit it. You can still keep playing that fantasy in your head if you want. Heck, it wasn't until I first saw you as a girl that I was ever able to admit that I was attracted to you. But even back then, even if we couldn't admit it, I knew there was something between us, and that it wasn't just me. It really is clear, just looking at you, that you want me. You want me bad. And like I said, I am more than happy to make that dream come true. Heck, you wanted me even back then, back in the van - the way you reacted once I got a rhythm going, that doesn't lie. But this time, I know you want me more, and that's because you know that this time, now that you've already felt it and know what to expect, it's gonna be way, way better.

"Because you seek, I know you now - know the kind of speed and power that gets you going, know what kind of strokes drive you wild, know exactly what it takes you bring you to the edge of orgasm, and what it takes to push you over. I know how to make you feel every part of what it means to be a woman in that way, and to make it feel so fucking good you won't ever want it to stop, and you'll want to stay a woman just so I can make you feel that way over and over and over again. And that, right there, is why you're not going to try and run away from me again. That's why you're not even going to pull back again from my touch. That's why you're barely even going to try and protest when I slip my hand underneath your bra, or down the front of your panties - because, whatever words come out of your mouth, you really do want to feel my touch down there, feel me stoking your arousal until you are oh so ready and very, very willing. And that, ultimately, is why you're going to let my cock push up against your nice, receptive spade, and accept what that means eagerly because you know, deep down between your legs, just how much you want to..."

His hand returned, sliding up her side and in along her chest, palm rising up to cup her left breast and give it enough of a squeeze to remind her just how arousing his strong touch had aggravatingly become. "See? You know you want this as much as me - you're not even trying to stop me. If you don't, though, my hand's gonna keep going, and once it gets on down to your spade... a few minutes of that, and I think you'll be more than ready to speak up. Or, barring that, I think eventually your moans will start to speak for you..."

Hugh didn't bother to try to bat his hand away in response, just looked back up at him with an indignant glare. All the same, though, she had to admit that a certain sense of resignation was seeping in. They were close enough now that she didn't even have a chance of bolting - no, if she tried to leap away again, Frankie would be all over her, and that would just lead to his tongue thrusting against hers again, or a hand pushed down into the crotch of her panties, and all that would do was push her further towards the inevitable. She couldn't run, and Frankie had already shown her just how futile fighting would be. In fact, he could probably push her down and take her, right then and there, without Hugh being able to offer much in the way of useful resistance. There really wasn't any feasible way out of this... except for one.

And, horribly, that one was starting to seem more than acceptable. Sure, she knew that her female body had basically been fully aroused for a while, at least so far as it had made everything down there wet and squirmy, but now she was fully feeling it, in the strangest possible way.

As a guy, arousal had been easy enough - if he was hard, then there it was, and its ache had been the straightforward one of wanting to be surrounded by something tight and slick. The female arousal, what he'd felt of it, had just seemed all about readiness, getting wet and all that, but apart from that it had been strange and diffuse, only really seeming to transform into recognizable arousal once... once Frankie's pounding had started rubbing those sensitive internal parts into action.

This time around, though, Hugh could actually feel something inside her, along that strange path stretching up from her spade in between her hips. Somehow, Hugh realized, she could actually feel a clear sense of... anticipation, not quite an itch, but that same sense that he'd had with a hard-on: that it wanted to be touched, stroked, hugged and massaged, and wouldn't be satisfied until it had that contact. Now, though, that sort of sensual desire was tucked up inside her, waiting for that deep sensation of stretching and rubbing that only one thing could bring.

There really was no other way to put it: her spade, and everything beyond it, wanted to feel stretched comfily taut, wanted to be hugging the shaft that had violated her for the very first time. And the more that it seemed inevitable, the more that the anticipation swelled, and all she could do was sigh in frustration... as what fight she had left seemed just about ready to leave in favor of stupid, unbidden lust.

"You really are serious about going through with this, aren't you? No matter what?"

"Mmm... yeah, that's about right. After all, it's gonna give us what we both need. I, for one, could really use to get my rocks off this morning, and there's no better way to do that than with your shaft buried in a nice, tight spade. And you... well, you need to get used to the fact that when you're with a guy, and feeling the way you are, having a guy's shaft filling you like that is exactly what you need and want, too. Heck, all you gotta do is admit it. It's not like it's some big mystery - the fact that you can only look at my cock for like a second before grinding your hips down and turning away means it's more than clear enough. So... yeah, it really is gonna happen. I guess the only question is, then, do you want me to keep touching and teasing you, or do you wanna skip to the part where I'm right where you want me to be?"

Hugh sighed again. "Well, if there's no point in fighting this, if you're going to fuck me anyway no matter what I say or do... what's the point in drawing it out? I'm not going to let you just... toy with me all morning! If there's really no other way..."

"Great!" Frankie's stupid grin managed to get even bigger somehow... but all he did was sit there, beaming back at her.

"Well?" she replied, after more than a few seconds had passed. "What the fuck are you waiting for?"

"Waiting for? For you to ask me, of course..."

"Ask you? Ask you what?"

"Ask me to have sex with you, of course. Admit it, just like I said. Or, heck, if you want to send the message that way, just slip off those panties, spread your legs, and show me right where you want me." He paused, retracting his hand to bring it up and trace lightly along his own muzzle. "Come to think of it, maybe that's another lesson right there. All those mixed signals, your words telling a guy one thing when your body's showing another so clearly that it makes your words a lie. Actually... maybe that's the one part of being female you ought to skip. You want a guy, best thing to do is just let him know what you want, and he'll be more than happy to give it to ya. So, how about it? After all this, you finally gonna come out and tell me how you want me?"

"Grrr... you're seriously gonna make me beg? You put me in this situation, and you want me to beg for what you're gonna do to me anyway?"

"Not beg, just... say what you want. What we both know you want."

Hugh ground her teeth, her emotions still clashing: resignation against impotent rage against stupid, incongruous lust. As infuriating as it was to be trapped there, to have him keep drawing things out and trying to break her down, it was impossible to deny what her body wanted. And there really was a part of her that wanted to give in, wanted to feel what she had back in the van - not the first part, not being forced, but afterward, with the others, when she'd actually... enjoyed it.

But seeing Frankie's face staring down, seeing that confidence and power... whatever male remnants were left within Hugh's psyche couldn't let it go. That sense of frustration at masculinity denied was somehow still there, and it couldn't go unassuaged. She knew that she was going to give in soon enough - but not until Frankie gave in somehow first. Not until he stopped trying to pretend that this nonsense was all on her.

"What I want... okay, then. I'll admit what I fucking want. Right after you admit that the shit you pulled back in the van was rape. That it was about you, not me. That you know what I said, and you fucking betrayed me anyway."

Frankie looked at her askance for a moment - but then he sighed, letting his shoulders sag slightly in acquiescence. "Heh... betray you? Nah, man, I didn't do that. Hell, I'm pretty sure it takes a loyal friend indeed to willingly go out and knowingly commit sex crimes on your behalf. But if you really want me to say it, then fine. At the start there, pushing you up against the van... for a minute or two, if you really wanted to call that rapey, then yeah, I guess you probably could. But after that, once you really started feeling it..."

All of a sudden, instead of glancing down at something below, his eyes were riveted on hers, and for a moment his face took on an expression a little more... genuine, somehow, than his usual confident smirk,

"Look, here's the thing. I didn't come from the suburbs like you, good house and parents and all that. I grew up rough. And yeah, maybe I haven't been with a ton of women or anything, but I've seen plenty of women get fucked, and some even get straight-up raped. Sure, canine women, they've got all their sensitive stuff inside, and if someone's putting it to them, they're gonna know it. And eventually they're gonna call out, because they can't help it, and they're gonna cum, 'cause they can't help that either. But if they really don't want it, they fight it, hard, vicious, every step of the way. Scratch, claw, fucking bite chunks out of the guy if they get the opportunity. Give the guy that death glare the whole time, just to make sure he doesn't get the satisfaction of seeing true arousal on their face. But what you did, back then? That's something different. A woman getting raped, one who's been made ready but isn't aroused, isn't desiring, a few quick thrusts and the fight isn't gonna go out of them. They're not going to cry out with wild abandon, they're not going to let their hips grind back on their own, they're not going to do everything possible to make sure that everyone around know just how hard and how good they're getting off. The only kind of woman who acts like that is one who wants it, who really fuckin' wants it, but is so fucked up by social norms that she feels like she's got to resist - not really, but just enough that it's there before a guy pushed past it, before he forces the issue and takes away her burden of actually having to choose to let it happen. Once you get past that, once you get through that nonsense... well, that's when you get to see what that woman really feels. And that, right there, is exactly what happened with you. You didn't want to want it... until you did."

Frankie leaned back in, sliding his hand up along the fur on her inner thigh, fingers moving in to trace just along the outside seam of her panties... not quite close enough for her spade to feel it, but far too close for comfort - and somehow not enough to get her to squirm or flinch away.

"And really, when you get right down to it, that's the same thing that's going on here. If you really hated me so much, if you really wanted nothing to do with me... well, you'd have screamed, for one. You'd have scratched or clawed my face rather than those weak little love taps. Heck, my dick's just sitting out here unprotected - you could have clawed me right there, or sank your teeth into it, or thumped my balls. Any of that would have been enough to get away, and leave me in enough pain that I wouldn't have pursued. There were any number of ways to make it clear, to get me off you. And yet... when you knew for sure what I was going to do, when the chips were down, you didn't do any of that. All you did was whine, and complain, and put up just enough completely and knowingly futile resistance to tell yourself that you did good... while you let your nipples get hard and your panties soak through. And that thing with the kiss - sure, it does a number on women, but it only stokes that arousal if they're already feeling it. You push that on one who's totally unwilling, and they're going to be pissed and sputtering, not totally dazed and dreaming about having a cock inside them.

"Put it all together, and it's really fuckin' clear: you want me, but there's still just a little bit too much guy inside that head of yours to be cool with it the way you know, deep down, you want to be. But the way I see it, with me not really giving you a choice and all, if you want to you can tell yourself that you made that admission under duress, that you're still a guy, that you still have that power or whatever... well, you can think whatever you want. But you also have a spade, a spade that really wants to start feeling good right about now, and you know exactly what you've gotta do to get things rolling. You do that, and you can go right back to being hesitant or cussing at me as much as you want, but it's still gonna happen, I'm gonna push past the wall that part of you stubbornly wants to leave up - and when I'm in, when you start to feel me again, every bit of that experience before is gonna come flooding back and remind you exactly how much you want it. Heck, I'd wager that once I'm a few thrusts in, you'll be begging me not to take it out - not until you feel it give you a climax or two, at least..."

Hugh just glared back at him, trying to find... some kind of resolve, some vestige of male pride that she could hold onto, could use to project some notion of defiance. She hated, absolutely hated, the idea that Frankie might be right - that despite everything he'd done, that she'd somehow... actually wanted it. And yet... she'd been in that van. She'd felt him inside her. She knew exactly what every inch of him had felt like, hammering into her, stretching and stroking her insides and stoking them to a fever pitch, and it had felt-

No. She couldn't let herself admit to that. Could she? That had been... a fluke, a mistake borne of the panic that stemmed from being spontaneously transformed, a reaction based solely on the overwhelming novelty of those never-before-experienced sensations. But even now, now that she knew... she wanted to deny it, but all it took was Frankie nudging his finger a little closer, just enough so that she could feel it pressing against the bottom pad of her spade, and her hips were suddenly squirming - only instead of doing so as part of some attempt to pull away, they were moving forward on their own, grinding forward to intensify the sensation of his touch. She... wanted to feel him there, feel him close, feel that part of her being stimulated to prepare for...

She couldn't admit it. There was no possible way that she could. Her mind couldn't possibly want that. But her body...

Frankie pulled his fingers back for a moment, before tracing them in a circle along the crotch of her panties, not directly on her spade, but enough to make the fabric follow his motions, tugging gently at each pad in turn. She tried to catch the whimper before it made it all the way up her throat, but couldn't quite do it - and even if she hadn't, it wouldn't have stopped the warm pulse of renewed lubrication that could only have served to expand the burgeoning wetness seeping deeper beneath his fingers.

"Hmm... still can't quite put that admission into words, huh?" Frankie continued, sliding his hand back down to caress the fur on her inner thigh before pulling it away. "All right. Guess it's one of those things where if you say it out loud, it's just gonna make it too true for you to handle right now. But, that being said... well, I suppose actions can speak louder than words, so maybe we can make this even easier. You may not want to admit it, but let's face it, we both know there's an admission of intent sitting right between your legs, and really, one glance is all it's gonna take to tell me what you want right now. So, tell you what... you strip off those undies that are still standing between us, and let me take a look at that need puffing up your nipples and literally dripping off of your spade, and we can drop all the rest of the prevarication and get to what we're both so eager for. I mean... we are getting you used to being a woman, right? And what better way to do that than demonstrate how easy it is to express that desire in a nice, invitingly feminine way?"

"Rrrrgggh!"

"Wow, not into it even now? Okay, fair enough... But like I said, I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not above being a big tease if that's what it takes. It's easy enough for me to slide my hand back to make sure your spade gets all kinds of light, peripheral attention, or to squeeze those cute little breasts of yours until it drives you just about crazy, but really... how much of that do you really think you can take before you're desperate to rip those panties off? I know your body's got to be all but yelling at you about what it wants right now - do you really think you can ignore it? Even as a guy, you never had all that much resolve, and being a woman, with the intensity that you obviously experience it with, do you really think you can deny yourself?

"I mean, heck, it'd be fun to see you try, but... I guess the choice is up to you, isn't it? All right, tell you what... I'll give you thirty seconds. Plenty of time to take them off if you want to. And if not, then we'll just have a little fun, right? Don't worry - I'll only play until there's a vocalization that you can't hold back. Then, again, I'll give you a little while to take them off if you want before I start back at it again. Eventually, though, I think we both know you're going to want to... so might as well be now, right?"

Hugh really couldn't decide what emotion finally made her do it - it might have been rage, or frustration, or even desperation to... get it on, get it over with, anything to get Frankie to be done with it and stop messing with her.

In any case, disrobing was easy enough - she hadn't had to deal with bras all that much, but she's already had to put on enough of them that she'd figured out how the closures worked from the back. It came off easily enough, straps shrugging from around her shoulders, but it wasn't exactly designed to be aerodynamic, and flopped onto the bed between them when she tried to huck them at Frankie's head.

Frankie, of course, just grinned at the attempt, watching her freed breasts as they started bouncing around aimlessly on her chest. Not that she could help him staring, of course, but she had no intention of giving him a strip show, either, and determined to disrobe the rest of the way in the same perfunctory, least-sensual way that she possibly could.

She brought her legs together, tucked her knees up in front of her, then reached down to grab the waistband of her panties and pulled them off without the slightest bit of teasing: up, then down, out from around one ankle, then the other. Anger, at least, played into the end of it, as she took the stupid fucking things, wadded them up into a sodden ball, and threw it hard enough that it managed a half-hearted bounce off of Frankie's muzzle.

It wasn't enough, though, to keep him from catching them before they could carom away, carefully unwadding them, and then sticking his hands through the leg-holes and flipping them open. He slid his hands forward, using his fingers to stretch out the sodden crotch panel and hold it between them, making sure Hugh could see the slick sheen of moisture that completely saturated their surface.

He brought them in close for a moment, holding them a few inches away from her own muzzle, close enough that it was impossible not to get a whiff of her own clear, feminine scent. Then he brought them back, folded them up neatly, and placed them in one of her hands.

It was strange, and probably no more than some sort of distraction, but it gave her pause enough when she felt the squishy dampness against her fingers that she tossed them reflexively away. It was enough, though, that she didn't really react to each of his hands landing on one of the knees that were tucked up in front of her - and a moment later, he'd shoved both of her legs over so that the sides of them were resting against the sheets, her legs easily splayed wide open to reveal a spade wet and puffy enough that she could see the top edge of it protruding between her legs when she glanced down through her own cleavage. Just like that, he'd pinned and laid open her spade before him. Even after she'd stripped down, she hadn't felt that exposed, but being there like that, all she could think of was the fact that there was nothing but empty air between her vulnerable spade, and...

All of a sudden, she was more than aware of Frankie's erection, poking up confidently from between his legs and still more than visible from where he was crouched. In fact, it hadn't seemed to soften or waver at all, and from the fully protruded bulge at its base, it was abundantly clear that his knot was fully locked in.

And in that moment, staring at it completely transfixed and feeling a twinge thrum low in her belly... she knew. He had her in position - and it was a position she was fairly certain she wouldn't be leaving until that thick, red shaft had been there, tight and hot, deep inside her.

Like it or not, Frankie was going to happen - and instead of snarling, or fighting it, she let herself recline until she was flat on her back, watching Frankie slide forward from his crouch and start lowering himself down on top of her. First, she felt his ankles tucking against her own and holding them in place, then the fur on his thighs starting to rub against the inside of hers - and then the pointy tip of his cock, as hard and warm as it had been before, tracing along the wet pads of her spade before nestling in between them, right in the center where she could feel him nudging against each one simultaneously.

"Nnh... aw, yeah. I know we've only done this once so far, but I swear I actually missed feeling how eager that tight little spade of yours is. I mean, really... you have no idea how compelling that thing is. And you know... honestly, most women, I'd kinda hang like this for a little, teasing some more, seeing just how eager they could get before going all the way in. Heck, I even thought about just resting it right there for a while, seeing how long it's take you to beg me to give in and let you feel every inch of it. But then again... there's that little rule you had, isn't there? That if a cock touches a spade, just like that, then the only way it stops touching is when every last drop of a guy's load is keeping your belly nice and warm. So, I guess it's a good thing you're nice and prepared, because I've spent long enough getting you like this, and this is gonna happen... NOW."

That word, of course, was punctuated by his hips bucking forward, using his leverage above her to put all his weight and strength into it, and by the time she could even feel her body shudder in response to the impact, he was all the way inside her.

Suddenly, every part of her nebulous insides resolved as she felt them stretch tight and taut around his girth, even as his knot pressed in hard enough she could feel the imprint of its bulging veins against her spade's straining pads. Just like that, he was inside her, his male presence dominating insides that could do nothing else but desperately conform around him, feeling once again completely and undeniably female as she felt herself involuntarily hugging him in the deepest, most intimate way.

She squirmed against the sensation, trying to brace herself for the rough, canine pounding that was certain to follow - but for now, he just cocked his hips down and held himself motionless inside her, making sure she could feel every inch of him nice and tight and close against inner walls.

"Yep... there we go. And that, I guess, is the next lesson in being a woman - getting used to the way this feels, as it's the most fundamental and natural state for a woman to be in. Or, at least, that a woman's spade can be in..."

"What... what are you... talking about?" Just having him inside her was already making it hard to concentrate on anything else.

"Heh... of course I don't mean it literally. After all, if that was the case, it'd mean women spent most of their time getting fucked, rather than just a small but pleasurable fraction of it. Point is, though, that's the one thing I forgot about that first time, you know?"

"Just... one thing?"

"Most important thing, anyway. When you changed, and I saw you like that, all I was thinking was that you were female, and what that meant I was going to do. Didn't actually give much thought to the fact that up until that point you were actually a guy, no matter how girly of one you might have been. Probably didn't really even have the concept in your mind, that sex was anything other than getting your dick stuck in. Never even considered that sex meant being penetrated, having something inside you, something doing things to you that you couldn't even fathom or control. Maybe if it had been one and done, if you'd changed back afterward, it wouldn't really matter, but the thing is, you're female for sure, and what happened back there, from now on that's what sex means for you.

"So... the way I figure it, you've just got to wrap your brain around a new way of looking at it, getting used to the fact that sex means feeling something stretching you, stroking you, making you feel, making you accept what's happening. But how are you supposed to get used to anything if you're just getting pounded, right? How are you supposed to know how things are supposed to feel if you're just overwhelmed? And then you're just gonna keep being worked up and afraid, and that's not helping any of us, especially considering your new role here in our friendship. So, now that we're not in that crazy situation like before, now that we've got all sorts of time to do this right... I'm gonna get you nice and used to how it feels to be in the position you're supposed to be in now. How it feels to have my nice, thick cock stretching your pussy into the shape it's supposed to take on, feel how tight and snug and happy it makes you, feel my weight holding your hips down nice and firm in the way that's intended, the way I'm naturally spreading your thighs and making their soft fur hug me close. To realize that sex is happening in that deep, innate, feminine way. To feel me, all of me, and know that no matter what, no matter what you say or do, that I'm not going anywhere. That my cock isn't going anywhere, and that the only way my hips are gonna let you up is in the few short moments between thrusts. That this is what it means to have sex as a woman: to relax, to react, to accept passion and pleasure, to let it happen to you and enjoy it as it happens. To know that you're being mated, and that once you feel that cock stretching you inside, it's going to happen - that feeling of it growing and building inside you, knowing that it's gonna make you cum, knowing how good it will feel when that seed is pumping heat inside you, taking it in as the perfect, feminine culmination of what sex now means for you. Once you get used to that, once you get nice and satisfied with how it feels, once that's the natural sense of anticipation that comes into your mind when you feel a guy's cockhead snug up against your spade... then you're gonna be all set for what's gonna be expected of you."

He ground his hips in a little tighter - not much, but just subtly enough that she could feel her insides stretch a little tighter, feel the contours of his cock just a little bit more. It wasn't really enough to elicit anything more from her, though, except for maybe the slightest grimace as she looked back up at him. He was starting to lean himself over now, his head looming directly above hers, his look of sublime confidence only seeming to grow as he continued.

"Oh, yeah... there's the kind of look I've seen on a woman's face a few times for sure. That look that comes on when she really starts to realize how big I am, and just how that's starting to make her feel inside. That they're getting to the point where the fact they're having sex, and how hot and bothered it's making them, is bleeding through into whatever else they're thinking or feeling. Heck, even though you're probably still not used to it all the way yet, still thinking like a guy and trying to keep that look of defiance on your face... you probably don't even notice the way your muzzle is pouting just a little, quivering in that feminine way like you're already close to the edge of moaning. Or the way your ears are dipping as your body takes on its naturally feminine role. Or the way your eyes are nice and wide with feeling, so focused on what I'm doing to you that you can't quite tear them away from me. Yeah, that's one thing about women that they never quite seem to catch on to - while the sounds they make when they're being done is music to my ears, they don't have to make a sound to let feelings that strong be shown. And whatever you want to keep telling yourself, just the simple fact of me being inside has you showing the world that you're all the way turned on. In fact, if I were to get up to a solid, pounding speed right now, I'd wager serious money that the only thing you'd do would be to lie back and let me hear what I'm making you feel."

That, at least, was enough to get a little anger flaring back into Hugh's expression, although after what Frankie had just said, even she was starting to wonder just how much... femaleness was seeping through.

The fact was, Frankie actually was kind of right - the longer she felt him in tight against her inner walls, the less she wanted to shrug them out from around him, and even as she was all but snarling up at him, she could feel another gush of her own wetness permeating through the space between them.

"Yup... deep down, I think we both know what you want. And really, the way you were before as a guy, why wouldn't you? Because let's face it - sex for you as a guy kind of sucked. What was the sum total of your experience, having some crazy chick jump your bones while you cowered in abject terror? Or being unable to get it up in front of your pals, something that's so basic for a canine guy it should be actually impossible to fail? Naw, you've got to admit it - this is way better for you. Nothing to go wrong at all. You don't have to get it up - all you have to do is get wet, which is something so automatic that women can't help having it happen once a guy's holding them close. You don't have to figure out how or when to thrust - that's all taken care of for you. Heck, you don't even have to move at all, except for the way you're gonna be moving in response to what I'm doing. And best of all, you don't have to sit there wondering whether it's gonna feel good for you, or me, or whatever it is that got you all tied up before. Fact of the matter is, I'm enjoying myself plenty, and every other guy's gonna be just as satisfied once they've got it stuck in. And as for you... well, we already know how that is. Once I get a good rhythm going, you won't be able to help but feel good, then better, then amazing. You know that I'm gonna make you feel everything a woman's supposed to feel, gonna make you pant and moan and claw your fingers down my back. And then you're gonna cum, in that all-encompassing way that women have, something that's gonna happen no matter what - every stroke inside you can't help but bring you closer, and that means all I have to do is give you a good, canine pumping for long enough and you won't be able to help it. You're going to love it, just like before, and this time I'm not gonna be so excited that I blow just from that - no, my cock's gonna stroke your cute little pussy until I feel you shudder around me three or four times, to make sure you get fully acquainted with that uniquely girly daze that women fall into once they've been made to cum back to back to back. All that's not just a possibility - it's gonna happen, and not just this time. Once you get into it, once you stop fighting it and just let it happen, let it make you cum, that's how it's gonna be every time you're with a guy. Absolutely foolproof - once a guy's inside you, you're gonna enjoy it, and you're gonna cum. So, really... can you say that this isn't what you want? To have sex that is going to feel amazing whether you want it to or not, and where failing to perform, or cum, isn't even possible?"

"I, but- You're still inside me..."

"Right. Which is why I'm trying to get you used to it. And really, what's it matter? If you're enjoying how it's feeling, then how important is it that you're the one giving or taking? So, how about being honest, hmm? What feels better - the times you've had something, most likely your hand, wrapped around your cock? Or now, with your nice, soft, sensitive little pussy wrapped around mine?"

"I, I..."

"Ah, don't worry about it. Guess that's kind of a moot point, considering there's only one way you can feel now. Still, I bet it's making you wonder, isn't it? That's the first step, you know. First you're going to wonder, but pretty soon you're going to accept that I'm right. And speaking of acceptance... well, I think you're body's really getting it, and your mind will get there quick enough. Still, might as well get you to at least make it to that first level of acceptance, which is that this is a done deal - I'm here, and I'm not letting up until you feel that oh-so-good sensation of my cum keeping your belly nice and warm. Heck, try me if you really want - wiggle, squirm, push or whatever. Get acquainted with how immovable my hips are, how my cock isn't doing anything but keeping your spade spread and staying right there inside you. But once you accept that you're right where you need to be, and that my cock will do exactly what you know it's gonna do... well, then I'm gonna get you nice and used to the other part of what sex is for a female, rocking under the sort of rhythm and power only a canine male can provide..."

Hugh knew that, somewhere inside him, he still had to want to struggle. Yeah, it was going to happen - the fact that she could feel Frankie's cock inside of her meant that it was basically happening already. If it was, though, if she could at least give one more show of defiance...

But she couldn't. Or, at least, she didn't want to.

The problem was that her position, lying there on her back with Frankie on top of her, felt... right. Far more right than any other sexual position she'd ever been in, and dramatically better than the gibbering mess Hugh had been with Gianna on top. Unlike that, where the alien sensation of Gianna humping him had actually left him terrified at her ferocity, this time having someone on top of her actually felt... comfortable, even if that person did happen to be Frankie.

Of course, back in the van with Matty, it had kind of felt that way too - only that had been with someone she liked, and someone who'd been fucking her so hard that all the combined sensations had kind of jumbled together. Now that there wasn't that same frantic ferocity, now that things were still enough that she could sense what was happening... it wasn't just the thrusting, or the fact that had been someone she liked. Even with such a jerk on top of her, the position itself seemed to put her exactly where at least a part of her wanted to be.

The weight of him against her hips was strangely reassuring, keeping her butt planted nice and firm against the sheets, and making sure her spade was pinned at just the right angle for each separated pad to ride snugly along the edge of his knot, feeling the warmth of him tight across their entire surface. And the way his shaft was inside her, filling her with the sort of deep, stretching closeness that was beyond comfy, feeling herself getting more and more accustomed to his every contour as he gave form to her stretchy, compliant inner walls... fuck. If this was what it felt like for a woman to be with a man, then... if it weren't for the fact that it was Frankie on top of her, she probably would have given in moments after anyone else had gone inside. If it had been Matty... she'd probably already have her arms and legs wrapped around him, moaning happily as she came around his cock. The fact of the matter was, being pinned like that by a guy, not in some super-crazy way but the way a canine woman normally would be... it felt like the position Hugh should have been in all along.

So, when it came right down to it, lying there with a guy she despised dominating her body, she didn't put up a struggle at all, not even the useless, panicked effort she'd tried before. She just lay there, feeling him, and after a few moments of him being keenly aware of her complete acquiescence, she felt his shaft sliding back, the flared head of his cock tracing along her until it halted an inch or so from pulling all the way out to her spade. His face seemed to be taking on a new level of intensity, and she watched his muscles tensing all the way down his abdomen, his hips cocked back tight and ready to unleash.

"Well, all right, then - looks like feeling my cock nice and tight helped to hasten that acceptance the way it usually does. But don't you worry - I'm not gonna do any of that stupid toying that I got up to the last time. Not gonna thrust hard and wait just to watch you bounce or see the look on your face. No - I'm gonna treat you like a real woman this time and not leave you frustrated getting up to speed. I'm gonna go full force, right out of the gate, the way a real woman tends to want. Once we get you all the way used to it, once I get stuck in and get you positioned and grappled just right, you won't have to wait at all before we get going all the way and start getting you nice and stoked. Although I guess what I mean to say here, is... get yourself nice and braced, because you're about to feel what sex as a woman is really all about. But hey - I know you're gonna enjoy it, and you're gonna get used to it too. And considering how much you and me and Matty and Stan are gonna be doing it, that can only be a good thing..."

She could actually see him exhale in relief as he let his body give in to its desire. Then, rapidly, she was the one exhaling, gasping in surprise as not just his hips, but all of him came crashing down on top of her.

Just like that, she was gasping into the fur on his chest, his weight pressing down on her from her thighs to her forehead, even as her hips jerked and insides throbbed against the hammerblow of his initial thrust. Then his arms slammed against the bed to either side, rubbing against her sides, leaving her feeling entirely contained by his presence even as the oppression of his weight lifted. He was off of her enough that there wasn't much pressure above her abdomen, but he was still close enough for her muzzle, and her nipples, to rub against his dense fur as his motions rocked him against her.

His rhythm was the same as before, rapid and pounding, but as close together as they were, his strokes were shorter and quicker - each time pulling out only a few inches before thrusting back in, his knot drumming heavily and steadily against the pads of her spade, humping her hips down into the bed seemingly as fast as her heart was beating. The quick, deep-dwelling strokes also meant that, while before his shaft had pulled off of the sensitive nub inside her when he pulled back and rubbed in against it when he thrust back in, there wasn't a single part of his motion when his shaft pulled away from it entirely, tugging and massaging it back and forth with unrelenting stimulation.

The humping itself was just as unrelenting, not pausing or slackening in pace for even a moment, and it couldn't have been more than a minute in before Hugh realized that she was moaning uncontrollably, her petite muscles pulling taut and beginning to tremble as Frankie's close, steady stroking brought her right to the edge, and back to the strange inevitability of knowing that, in a matter of moments, he was going to make her cum, and there wasn't a thing in the world she could do to stop it. And then, just like before, she felt herself letting go - and the initial burst soared through her abdomen as every muscle and nerve was wracked by the intense, undeniable throb of deeply feminine orgasm along every inch of Frankie's impossibly snuggly cock.

Even then, though, he didn't stop, and she could feel him thrusting in against her clenching walls, overstimulating her insides and leaving her completely trembling, her abdomen pulsing even more violently than it had the first time as his thrusts, instead of letting the climax ebb, kept it at maximum intensity until it finally collapsed altogether, the burst of relaxation that it left behind all but paralyzing her extremities, her thighs fallen splayed to either side even as his thrusts continued unabated.

One single climax felt like it had pushed her to the limit, but she could feel her body still responding to his thrusts, still thrilling with sensitive arousal as the tension began to swell again within her, and knew that he was true to his word - it would only be a matter of time, probably only a couple of minutes, before his thrusts sent her back into impossibly intense orgasm.

His presence around her was impossible to ignore, and even more so than before, it seemed to engulf her awareness both inside and out. She couldn't even see his face any more, only hear his panting and feel his hot breath coming from somewhere beyond her eartips. The dark, furry expanse of his chest dominated all but the periphery of her vision, his abdomen pushing down to brush close against hers at the culmination of each thrust. His arms were snug against her sides, and his hips and thighs were in constant motion against her own. Plus, the way his body was spreading and rocking her legs, her calves had given in as well and had curved back over, resting on his back just above the base of his flicking tail, feeling it dance across her toes as her heels bounced against him in time with each rapid thrust.

Every part of her seemed perversely embraced or entangled with him, except between her legs where it was the opposite: she could feel herself hugging him, her insides gripping and rubbing along his shaft, feeling them exult with every mutual caress. It didn't seem to matter that in some abstract place in her mind, she was hating him, she was furious at him, pissed at what he was doing to her. Her body was loving it, loving how contained and surrounded and stimulated it was by his commanding masculinity, and as much as she wanted to scream and snarl, the only sounds she seemed capable of making were soft, plaintive moans, verbal encouragements to bring him even closer, his thrusts even shorter and quicker and harder.

It was impossible for her not to feel completely, utterly dominated, surrounded and controlled in every way. It felt less like she was having sex - instead, it felt like sex was something that was happening to her, and she was just along for the ride, the masculine voice of Hugh still lingering in her head able to do little more than make the meekest of protests as her body bounced and flowed to the beat pounding in against her spade. Even her arms were around him now, playing aimlessly along his back, feeling the strong muscles rippling beneath his fur as the power of the motion they presaged reverberated deep within her hips.

By the time the third climax slammed through her, the notion of resisting, or even wanting to stop, had all but evaporated. It hardly even mattered that it was Frankie anymore - all that mattered was that there was a cock stretching and rubbing inside her, and all that part of her wanted to do was to let itself keep being fucked. It didn't even seem to matter that all she was doing was lying there, bucking in response to Frankie's thrusts, ceding complete control and basically allowing him to use her like a sex doll. It felt so good that control hardly seemed to even matter...

And yet, even as Frankie humped her stunned, orgasm-dazed form, a part of her still-cognizant mind had to wonder if Frankie really had any more control over what was happening. At the beginning, he'd been controlled and composed, and while his verbal manipulations had trailed off quickly once he'd gone into motion, or possibly drowned out by Hugh's own involuntary vocalizations, he'd still been measured and steady, his breathing calm and confident as he made sure Hugh was properly dominated. Now that they'd been going for a while, though, now that Hugh's soft, stretchy insides had surely been stimulating Frankie as much as his cock had been stimulating her, his panting was loud and ragged, and his motions were rapidly becoming jerkier - his hips trembling slightly against her thighs as he pulled out, like he couldn't stand to have his cock away from her even a little, then shuddering against her as he collapsed back down to grind in desperately.

As he did, she could feel his muscles tensing, feel his cock jump within her as they throbbed, the shaft pressing intently against one side of her inner walls, then the other. He was close, for sure, to the point where he really might not have been able to stop - sure, all Hugh really knew about that was back when he'd used a hand on his own cock, but even then, past a certain point, there probably hadn't been anything short of a natural disaster that would have caused him to stop pumping until he finally erupted in spurting relief.

This time, though, there weren't any hands, and the only cock was the one inside her, the one that she herself was hugging, the one that she could feel herself trembling and throbbing around as it worked within her, the one that her own body was involuntarily coaxing and stimulating, working it to its own fever pitch. Making it swell even firmer and hotter, making it bulge with desperation, bringing it to the edge just as surely as it had sent so many climaxes cresting through her...

She actually heard him whine above her, shrill and loud against her ears, and the coital rhythm that had already been in desperate breakdown concluded with a final, pounding thrust that shocked against her hips and set her spade violently quivering against the base of his knot. She was completely pinned, stunned as the abruptly ceasing cadence caused the pent-up arousal to burst in the same sort of trembling, submissive climax, exactly how she'd felt the very first time with him. As she felt him throb within her in the briefest of preludes to his ejaculation, as she knew the invasion he was about to send flooding through her to take in that terrifyingly female way, it was accompanied by an equally female realization: there was absolutely nothing in that moment that she could do, or even wanted to do, to stop it.

From the moment she'd awoken to him sitting there, knowing what he'd done, she'd thought that she'd been determined to avoid it happening again, but he'd pushed through nonetheless, worked her bit by bit, stroked her into pleasurable submission... leaving her penetrated and powerless and filled, despite herself, with relief and arousal, letting him take her completely, surrendering her core to his ultimate masculine conquest. A conquest that the male Hugh had strived for, had pushed and sacrificed to achieve for so long... but there she was, feeling her body doing nothing but accept the thumping impact as the first hot jet of cum splashed inside her, far more comfortable with the feeling of letting herself be conquered than she ever had asserting her conquest on others.

It was surreal, for sure. Instead of the bizarre swirl of climax and panic that she'd felt the first time, now she felt strangely still, engulfed by the warmth of Frankie against her, body relaxed into a deep, dazed acquiescence.

And yet, now that the pleasant veil of another feminine climax was lifting, she could sense things with a renewed clarity. Unfortunately, it was all to clear what that restored focus revealed: the solid feel of Frankie against her abdomen, his bulk grinding down to keep her legs duly spread and her hips immobilized, locking her tightly enough into place that she couldn't have even pulled away from what was happening if she'd wanted to, or even put the slightest space between the deeply stretched pads of her spade and the knot that was pressed hard and flush against them. Every part of him within her was nice and snug, moving only enough to buck slightly with each spurt, and the one part within her that wasn't firmly in place around his shaft was thrumming strangely as it flinched at the impact of each hot burst of Frankie's cum.

Again and again, she felt the sharp, hot slap against intimately soft flesh as his voluminous ejaculation continued, feeling as it melted into liquid heat that spread and clung and coated before another blast took its place. It seemed to go on and on, lying there completely pinned and frozen, feeling so incredibly strange that Hugh could hardly bear it.

That clarity, though, was impossible to deny, and Hugh could do nothing but acknowledge what was happening. Whatever she might have wanted to think about what had happened to her, in that moment she was deeply, starkly female, and experiencing firsthand, unclouded and undisguised, what it felt like in the moments when a woman was truly taken by a man.

Eventually, the impacts within her subsided, the last few growing progressively softer until they culminated in a soft, spreading pool of heat directly underneath where the head of his cock was still poking deeply against her. True to his word, though, after a couple of long, lingering strokes that spread some of what he'd deposited along the entire length of her inner walls, her levered himself up off of her, his cock finally releasing the stretching, dominating grasp that had kept her insides in thrall. In a moment, he was lying on his back next to her, his shaft still held erect by his knot and standing at attention, slick with the combined streaks of off-white cum and her own glistening juices.

He exhaled, a completely sated look on his face as he let his arms fall down onto the bed along his sides.

"Whew! I gotta tell you, that was damn near perfection right there. I mean yeah, back when, I kept halfway thinking you'd be better as a girl, but that's one heck of an understatement. Nice as it is to look someone in the eyes, feeling you in hot against my chest as you absolutely lose it... never felt anything quite like it. And man, we are a near-perfect fit together, aren't we? So perfectly snug, and yet I can tell there's still plenty of room to be tighter - when you go into heat, I just know you're going to fit around every part of me, and the way that part just inside your spade feels, you are gonna be absolutely silky bliss around my knot..."

"Mnuhh..." was about all Hugh could manage in response at the moment. At least the effects of what she'd been through had worn off enough that she could move, although even that seemed slow and exhausting as she coaxed thoroughly relaxed muscles into motion. It was hard just to fight against the inclination to lie there and let the afterglow permeate through her, but she at least worked up the determination to cross her arms over her breasts and pull her thighs back together - the last thing she wanted was to just lie there, splayed, and let him admire his handiwork. Of course, she'd learned that having a spade also meant having a thigh gap big enough that it wasn't exactly covered up, but at least it was better than leaving everything there for him to see.

Still, there was absolutely no question about what he'd done to her. Even though his cock was out of her, she could still feel her insides tingling with lingering sensitivity, more than enough to feel them gently throb, as though they were still experiencing some delayed reaction in response to his prior presence. Beyond that, though, she could still feel what he'd spread through her, still hot enough that its lingering warmth was seeping along every surface it clung to.

Being there, feeling that inside of her, it was impossible not to feel like a woman, as those most feminine parts of her were still engaged with what he'd done to her, and probably would be for a good long while. If there had been any doubt as to what their comparative roles were, Frankie had definitively laid it to rest - he had all the masculinity, in a way that Hugh probably never had and could never again claim, and the fact that she still couldn't even dredge up some proper words of protest or indignation, let alone actual action to voice her frustration... no, the way she was laying there, her insides all but defined by the warm presence of something she could neither purge nor resist, the way she'd handled the entire encounter from start to finish, had been exactly in line with the way Hugh had always anticipated women would respond to sex. And while Hugh couldn't help but be one, at the moment, thanks to the way she'd been transformed, actually taking on the role that matched with the female form... she was afraid that was all her.

Frankie, of course, didn't help much with that train of thought, as he saw fit to open his mouth again rather than give her time to think.

"Heh... now there's another one of those sounds I like to hear. Tells me what I need to know, hey? And yeah, I bet you're probably wondering why, after what I said, I'm not asking if it was good for you, too. Fact is, though, why ask if you're just gonna tell me something I already know? It's not like you can pretend I didn't feel what you were doing all around me as I was fucking you. Yeah, I guess you probably couldn't help cumming, but like I said, there's a heck of a difference between a woman who's fighting it and cums anyway, and one who's feeling it with wild abandon. And let me tell you, you were feeling it, all right - those moans were one hundred percent genuine, and I can feel the scratches on my back where your fingers raked me each time it happened. Not to mention, sure you can probably make a woman cum four times in a row just through sheer determination, but there's no way a woman who's doing anything but fully accepting it is gonna come four times in seven minutes flat. Heck, the fact you're laying there like that is testament enough - if you weren't satisfied, you'd be all kinds of animated, getting all up in my face, snarling and growling and shit. Only way a woman just lays there, with that cute little dazed expression on her muzzle and eyes that can't help cross more than focus, the only way she gets there is if she's been given it so good that she'd beyond fuckin' satisfied."

He brought his hands back to hook behind his head, leaning back slightly more and staring up at the ceiling for a moment. "And the best part is, I really do think you're starting to get it. I mean, maybe the whole teaching you to be a woman thing was a little patronizing, a little over the top, but it worked, right? I know at the start you were kinda pissed, but even with that kiss I could feel you letting yourself get into it, more than just some automatic response. And once we got going, once I got inside, well... I could just feel you getting more and more comfortable with everything. The way you responded when we really got down to it, I don't think you could have done it better if you'd been a woman this entire time. So, maybe you don't really need to be taught anything, the way you handled the most important part of being a woman, after only the second time you've had it put to you. I mean, this is the second time, right? Somehow I doubt you sought out any other guys between then and now..."

He pulled himself forward like he was doing a sit-up, glancing back over at her with an easygoing grin, like he really thought they'd just spent a pleasant morning together rather than him raping her.

"Anyway... guess we might as well get up now. I promised that you wouldn't have to get up without a nice coating of cum to keep you all warm and toasty inside, and, well... promise met, right?" He got the rest of the way up, his erection thankfully beginning to fade - even now, it was hard for her eyes not to be involuntarily drawn to it. A moment of fishing around on the floor, and even that was hidden as he mercifully pulled his trunks back on. "All right! So... I imagine you probably want to get cleaned up or whatever, but that's up to you - personally, I'd rather let it wait, keep that scent of you lingering on my fur throughout the day as a constant reminder of the fun we had. Still, might as well be a gentleman and grab some clothes for you so you're not just wandering around naked... anyway, I'll leave you be, and get working on that breakfast I said I'd whip up for us. Not sure if I remember where the heck I stashed the rest of my clothes after all that, though, so hope you don't mind if I cook like this. Hey, feel free to stare if you like - anything that has the potential to make you hot and bothered is fine by me."

He went through her drawers before she could even think to protest, or muster the strength to do so, watching as he seemed to spend a little to much time going through her panties and running them through his fingers. Mercifully, though, he was done with it quickly enough, setting down a stack of clothes next to her and giving her naked, barely-covered form another quick smirk before finally leaving her alone again.

She looked over to see what he'd left beside her: a frilly purple bra, a matching pair of panties with what was surely a heavily-fondled crotch, a pale pink babydoll tee and a pair of blue-striped, capri-length leggings.

Not perfect, and not at all male in any way, but it was better than being naked, so she pulled them on. It was also the same reason she didn't exactly want to shower at the moment - she'd been naked and exposed to Frankie long enough, and if he heard the shower running she could only imagine that he'd invite himself to join her. That, at best, would probably end with him "washing" various sensitive parts of her, and after having him all over her for... had he really said it was only seven minutes? It had seemed far, far longer than that, but with the way every sensation seemed to slow down and linger each time she came, it was hard to tell. Nevertheless, whatever she'd felt, seven minutes with him had been more than enough - certainly plenty to provide her with the feeling of oozing stickiness crawling down between the pads of her spade, leaving even more evidence of what had transpired to seep into the crotch of her panties.

It was actually kind of surreal the way that Frankie cumming inside her made her more aware of just how female she was now. Sure, it probably should have been just as obvious the first time, but she'd been so shocked by her transformation, and so completely worked over, that she'd been far too preoccupied to acknowledge any of what she was feeling until most of the aftereffects had passed. And yes, it was technically obvious she was female - it had certainly taken a while to get used to how completely different it felt to have a spade there instead, and it had taken the better part of the day before the knowledge of it could even seep into the background, before she got used to how it squirmed in her underwear with every hip-rocking female stride that she took.

But even then, it was just this different-feeling thing between her legs, and all the other stuff that was far more directly involved in sex, all that stuff that was up inside her... she'd known it was there, but it hadn't really felt any different from everything else inside that surrounded it when it wasn't in use. Now that its previously undifferentiated surface was almost completely coated with Frankie's cum, though, she could feel it so clearly defined within her, a thick band of warm flesh centered between her hips and extending up into the lower part of her abdomen, the top of it snuggled up close against... something else, something that was still far less defined, but within which she could feel more of his seed, not coating so much as pooling within. She could feel the cum sloshing back and forth subtly within it as she walked - could feel the warmth that made up her pussy rocking from side to side along with her hips, cum clinging and trickling and dripping along alternating edges, shifting with every movement.

Clinging to her as it was, it seemed to somehow feed off her own body heat, as the warmth of it seemed to linger beyond what would have made sense otherwise. Altogether, though, it left her feeling disturbingly claimed, and along with the v-necked, cleavage-revealing t-shirt and form-hugging leggings, about the only way she could feel any more thoroughly female as she walked towards the dining room were if Frankie were still actively rutting her.

And yet, it wasn't even being female, exactly, that made each of her steps feel leaden, that made her want to look down at the floor instead of straight ahead, that made her want to shiver even though the air around her was reasonably warm. It wasn't even the cum itself that was dripping through her. No... it was the fact that it was there in the first place, an unwanted presence and the result of an unwanted act, and yet it was there nonetheless. Frankie had wanted it, so it had happened, and she'd been completely powerless to stop it - and even worse than that, she'd been powerless to stop herself from eventually wanting it.

It was chilling indeed, as Frankie's words and the reality of the situation she was in seemed to drill deeper and deeper into her psyche with every step forward. The fact of the matter was, Frankie had said all kinds of things, but more than anything else, he'd talked about having her get used to being a woman - or more accurately, having sex as one, taking on that feminine role and making sure her body provided its perverse reward for doing so. And once he'd gotten inside her, once he'd finished with his twisted speech and made sure that she'd felt his cock to the point where resisting it became pointless, he'd... simply pinned her down against the bed and used her, humped her like his own personal fucktoy, and nothing she'd done, not a squirm or moan or full-on climax, had even altered the way he was putting it to her. From the point he'd gone into motion, it was like her only purpose had been to react to his thrusting cock, to enjoy being used, to passively accept what was being done to her... to act, in short, exactly the way Hugh had envisioned women were supposed to.

It had been true, for sure, that back before this mess had happened, Hugh hadn't... thought all that highly of women. After all, he'd been a man, and from the perspective he'd thought had been right, that meant seeing women primarily as the recipients of his lust. Gianna, perhaps, had demonstrated that women had a far more terrifying side than anything he'd imagined, but his own fantasies had been simplistic enough: women, as he'd assumed was their nature, would submit to his cock once he'd touched it to their spade, and then their main purpose was to witness how manly he was as he fucked them. He'd never really given much consideration to what their theoretical thoughts or feelings might have been, and he'd never really had to... until that point.

Problem was, it hadn't just been Hugh saying that. It had been all of them - Stan, Matty, and especially Frankie. They'd gotten together most every night, talking, grousing, reinforcing those thoughts and opinions between them. Reinforcing them over and over until those beliefs had in effect become reality for them, whether they were truthful or not. Reinforcing the idea that women weren't people so much as potential conquests, there only to surrender their femininity to masculine prowess, there to satisfy the men once they'd been won over through strength and bravado.

Women had been there for sex, and more than that, Hugh and his friends had believed that domination was the thing they'd most desired. If they'd actually gotten their hands on a woman, there was no question what her role would be, or how she'd be used, most likely by all of them - and by that line of reasoning, Hugh's proposal to essentially kidnap and gang-rape his co-worker had actually seemed rational to all of them. After all, if it was a woman, especially one in heat... wasn't that what she was there for?

Of course, looking back, it was easy to see just how fucking stupid all of it had been, but at the same time, she'd been the only one provided with a new perspective through which to view it, and see just how utterly twisted it was. The others had been shocked by what had happened, sure, and maybe even worried a little bit that it might happen to them, but once Frankie had reinforced it by grabbing her in the van and taking her right then and there, those beliefs had easily come back to the fore, only this time redirected right at her.

Knowing that, Frankie's words couldn't help but ring resoundingly true. Now, they weren't just a group of guys grousing about what women owed them. They were three guys, who probably saw women primarily for the ways that a cock could be humping them into submission... and a woman who knew all three intimately, who'd previously egged them on day after day, and who'd easily been made to submit to each and every one of them the minute she'd taken on a feminine form. Now that they all finally had a woman comfortably within their sphere of influence, they wouldn't let go of that shared relationship easily, and certainly wouldn't expect her to fill any other role. Sure, Matty and Stan might be a little nicer about it, might try to throw around more actual affection, but while they might be more tolerable to deal with than Frankie, she was certain enough that any future interactions with them would result in her spade being used just as vigorously as a sex sleeve for their cocks, and whether she snarled less before accepting them, she'd be right back where she was soon enough, taking another wobbly-kneed walk of shame with their stuff clinging to her insides.

With every step, it was easier to imagine that future coming into being - and with the continued ebb of the euphoria her climaxes had provided, by the time she actually set foot in the kitchen, it was with a clear expression of depressed surliness. Which, she supposed, was why it was especially infuriating to see Frankie being practically the picture of happiness, dancing around in his trunks and humming to himself as he used a pair of tongs that Hugh didn't even remember having to poke at something in a skillet sizzling on the stove.

While it didn't do anything for her mental state either way, the aroma of savory cooking meat was enough to set her stomach growling - which was nice, in a way, as it managed to distract her from the far more aggravating feelings further down. It was enough, in fact, that instead of actively growling at him, she just glared at Frankie's backside before going to sit down at the table.

Grrr... how could he be so fucking happy about what had happened? Of course, it was probably easy for him - he'd gotten to have his fun, after all, and the way he'd been talking, he'd probably already convinced himself that he'd simply worked her no into a yes, instead of actively wearing down her resolve to the point he could rape her without resistance. That, and he wasn't the one who had to live with the lingering results. A conscientious guy might actually have felt some guilt about what he'd done, but Frankie sure wasn't that.

Still, it was a little disconcerting to look over and notice that Frankie wasn't only wearing trunks, as it had initially seemed - looking at him from a different angle, Hugh could see that he was also wearing the one apron that Hugh owned, with the words "BBQ Master" emblazoned across the front. Not that Hugh knew how to barbecue beyond throwing some hot dogs on a grill and hoping for the best, but it was about the only acceptable apron a guy could own. That being said, seeing Frankie still half-dancing around in front of the range while wearing it... before, Hugh might have teased him about something like that, but now it seemed to take on a different connotation. The whole idea behind their brand of masculinity was to impress women, and to use it to get what they wanted. Frankie, though, had exactly what he wanted, and now that he did, he seemed far less motivated to put it front and center. Then again, Frankie didn't often seem all that committed to anything in particular - with the exception, of course, being his current obsession with her.

As she glowered at him, he turned over to look back for a second, not seeming perturbed in the slightest by her expression.

"So, which way do you want your eggs?"

"What?" Hugh snapped back. "After all the shit you just put me through, that's the first thing you say to me?"

"Well, yeah, because I'm doing the eggs now, so..."

"And if I tell you to go fuck yourself?"

"Then I'd tell you to lighten up already, buuut... scrambled it is then." He turned back to the pan for a moment before continuing. "Although, if I'm gonna be straight with ya, scrambled's about the extent of what I know how to do with 'em, anyway."

"Seriously? You're just gonna go on about eggs?"

"Hmm... yeah, pretty much," Frankie replied, not looking back. "You can't possibly tell me we didn't have enough conversation leading up to it, right? I mean, really, I can't think there's a whole lot more to say on the matter, unless you want to start back up again going on about how I raped you, and me replying that it obviously wasn't and even if it was you're a rapist too, so... I mean, what's the point? We had sex. You're a canine chick who isn't in heat, so it's not like there are any consequences to it for either of us. And however much you want to be in denial, we both had a good time of it, so what's the big deal?"

"The big deal is, I didn't want to do it with you, and you made me do it anyway! You really don't think that would piss you off if you were in my position?"

That, at least, got Frankie to glance back over. "Hmm... well, I'm not the bitch, so it's not really my problem. But if I had to think about it... honestly, if I got turned into a chick, I'd probably just be a humongous slut, since that seems like the path of least resistance. Yeah, sure, you fell into my lap, but before that, it took so much friggin' work just to get into a woman's pants, not to mention actually into her spade. If I could get it on with just about any person I asked, and probably come a lot better than a guy can to boot, well... I dunno, thinking about it that way, seems only natural that I'd fuck a whole lot if the opportunity presented itself. Of course, I wouldn't be a petite little chick like you, so I'd probably just ride guys most of the time, but someone like you... it just wouldn't be right if you didn't end up under a guy, you know? But I guess that's neither here nor there, since you're the one with the spade and I'm not. And anyway, breakfast is just about ready, and considering you've probably worked up as much of an appetite as I have..."

He reached over, grabbing the skillet and setting it down on the table before grabbing a plate and some silverware, haphazardly plunking the lot down in front of Hugh before collecting some for himself. The table hissed and sizzled a little from where the skillet made contact with it, but considering it was a table used by a careless bachelor, the warping that it would leave would probably be unnoticeable considering the half-wrecked surface that surrounded it.

The breakfast that Frankie had worked up was simple enough that he hadn't managed to wreck it: savory-smelling sausage links, and a heaping helping of scrambled eggs with what looked to be some cheese mixed into it. It was a basic, standard canine breakfast, and while it wasn't exactly gourmet, it was still considerably better than what Hugh usually prepared, if you could even call what she did cooking.

It was certainly good enough, and the aroma of it brought enough hunger to the fore to drown out all of the other feelings. Still, as she got her fork into one of the sausage links and was bringing it up to her muzzle, she saw Frankie leering at her in a particular way - and a moment later realized the obvious sexual connotation of such a act as a female. It was easy enough to counteract, though: she brought her jaws together around it with clearly emphasized force, grinning as Frankie gulped involuntarily in response, and waylaid any further comments by meticulously using her knife and fork to slice the remaining links up into decidedly non-phallic pieces.

Frankie, at least, was sufficiently hungry, and after the initial distraction, the both managed to eat breakfast without any further conversation. Even so, it still seemed rare for him to actually take his eyes off of her, and while he wasn't doing anything beyond that, it still didn't exactly leave her feeling comfortable - especially when most of those glances were paired with the sort of confident smirk that seemed like he was still congratulating himself on fucking her into submission.

"Ah... yeah, that hit the spot for sure," he said as he finished up the last bit of food on his plate. "I mean, not as much as being with you, of course, but still pretty good. And you must have liked it too, considering your plate's as clean as mine is..."

"If you think I'm gonna forgive you, just because you cooked breakfast-"

"Forgive me? Wow, you just don't let up, do you? There's no forgiveness asked for or needed, because neither of us did anything wrong. If there's some guilt, or anger, it's because of what our fucked-up society says sex is supposed to be like, probably. And I mean... this is you now, right? That's just how sex is gonna be. What good is feeling all messed up over it really gonna do? Especially since you're gonna be doing it regularly enough, if you keep getting all worked up, it's not gonna help."

"Regularly enough?" Hugh snarled back. "What, you're really planning on showing up every morning for your daily rape or something? You really think that I'm your... your toy or something now, is that it?"

Frankie sighed gently, looking... a little disappointed more than anything else. "Damn... you are just not gonna let up with that word, are you? I feel like I gotta remind you just how many times I felt you cum around me that kinda makes our using it just a little beyond ridiculous. Plus, like I said, we've already had this conversation. Asked and answered, right? Point is, our little arrangement was pretty obviously how it was gonna be from the moment you got that spade of yours."

He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table while trying to work what Hugh guessed was supposed to be an empathetic expression onto his face. "Look... I know that all you're thinking about right now is sex, and yeah, I get that, considering what happened. But it's not like sex is gonna be some constant thing, right? I mean, sure, I imagine the first few times we all get together, the evening's gonna be pretty much nonstop fucking, just because we're all still a little pent up, you know? But after that... we're all still friends, and things are gonna normalize. For the most part, it'll be the same as it was before - we'll hang out all together, watch stuff, play video games, shoot the shit like we always did. And yeah, every once in a while one of us'll probably pull you into our lap and have some fun, or take you off to a bedroom for a bit. But by then, you'll be well used to it, so it'll all be in good fun, right? Just some friends with extra benefits, getting exactly what they wall want and need from each other, no problem."

"Oh yeah? And what if it is? What if I tell you that I don't want you to touch me ever again?"

"Well, for one, I probably wouldn't believe you. I've seen how you are with me. I mean, jeez, you watch enough of those foreign cartoons, I figure you ought to know what I'm talking about. What do they call 'em, soon-dairies or something? All snarly like they don't love you at all, but once you get 'em in your arms their true feelings show up, and they melt, just like that. Dunno about when you were a guy, but as a woman, that's you to a tee, isn't it? Won't even admit it to yourself until I'm, y'know, with you, and then boy, do you let me know it! So... you gotta excuse me if I don't take that at face value. Not to mention, the way you were with Stan and Matty... heck, even less hesitation than with me, not more. So, no, I don't imagine the arrangement we're gonna have will really piss you off all that much, no matter how much you want us to think that it does. And heck, you're a petite chick with a cute face and a hot body - if it's not with us, someone's gonna be bending you over on a regular basis anyway, and you know us a whole lot better than whoever they might end up being. So, c'mon... you really gonna turn this down?"

Hugh tried to shrug off yet another attempt at manipulation, and come up with something sufficiently forceful in response, but she didn't quite get there in time, providing only another glowering glare for a few seconds before Frankie started smirking again.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he said before she could eke out what she wanted to say. "Don't worry, though - like I said, I've seen how you react, and we're all gonna have a lot of fun with this, you definitely included. But hey, enough conversation, right?"

"Yeah, and what's that supposed to mean?"

If he had something else in mind, he wasn't quite saying it. "I mean... it's time to clear the dishes and then figure out what we want to do after that, right?"

"And would that thing involve you leaving me the fuck alone right now, maybe?"

"Hmm... we'll see, won't we?"

Hugh knew that trying to continue the conversation would probably just mean Frankie toying with her more, so she sent another growl in his direction, before taking her plate over to the sink to rinse it off. Frankie followed suit, but as she went back over to clear the last couple of things off of the table, she realized she couldn't hear Frankie's footfalls behind her... just a long, low whistle of appreciation a moment later.

"Damn, you really are something... such a tight, petite bod, and wearing something to show it off like a true woman ought to. Honestly, I thought you wouldn't touch the clothes I handed you, put on the most formless dress you had just to piss me off, but there you are. Of course, I'm not even gonna ask how you all of a sudden have a complete, perfectly-fitting female wardrobe in like a day after having changed, but at the moment, the way they make you look, I am definitely not complaining. Heh... not to mention, beyond everything else, the way it hugs that cute little spade of yours, letting everyone know just how happy I made it..."

She glanced back over her shoulder at Frankie, suddenly acutely aware of how tightly her leggings were clinging to her butt, showcasing the girly roundness that it had taken on - and of how soaked her crotch felt from everything that had been dripping down through her spade, a wetness that had surely permeated all the way through into the fabric of the legging that hugged close along it. The wetness, of course, was ultimately all due to what he'd done to her, but the way Frankie was dressed, his own fur-tight trunks didn't leave much room to disguise his own reaction, the fabric of the pouch in front quickly tenting out as far as it was capable of stretching around his obviously-burgeoning erection.

"Ah... fuck it. Let's make a day of it, yeah?"

He'd only been a few steps away before, and suddenly he was striding purposefully toward her, barely enough time for her to even think of turning around, but enough that she could feel a burst of adrenaline in her chest as she realized his intentions - and a burst of wet, desperate heat flushing between her legs as her body realized it even more deeply.

Then a strong hand pressed between her shoulder blades, not painfully but firmly, and all of a sudden she was bent at the waist over the dining room table, her face level with two half-empty glasses of water and her boobs squishing against the wooden surface. She yelped in surprise, squirming under the pressure of the hand holding her down, but another hand was already easily tugging the stretchy fabric of her leggings and panties off of her ass, and suddenly instead of vaguely protecting her they were bunched up around her thighs, the wetness of her spade cooling in the open air now that Frankie had so casually exposed it.

It was only cool for a brief moment, though, accompanied by her desperate, panicked panting and the rustling of fabric behind her, before a familiar warmth snugged in between the pads of her spade. It was so familiar, in fact, that the way it was shaped, how it contacted each pad of her spade in a particular way, she was fairly sure she could have known it was Frankie from that feeling alone, and just that was enough to send another burst of panicked adrenaline through her as every inch of her suddenly straining body knew exactly what it meant, and how deeply inevitable it was.

Then he pushed in, easily, not a single part of her offering the slightest bit of resistance... and just like that, she felt as completely like a woman as it seemed possible for her to be, from being at least some semblance of Hugh to being a little bitch moaning uncontrollably as he stretched her tightly over his cock.

He seemed to just assume she was his, now - didn't ask, didn't coax, didn't cajole, just humped her pussy like it belonged to him, easily forcing her acquiescence as he raped her down against the table. And instead of resistance, or defiance, or anger, all the instantly and utterly defeated Hugh could feel was a deep sense of resignation. For the rest of the day, the only thing she would be feeling were her insides being stroked by Frankie's relentless cock, and all she could do was accept the new role that he'd created for her.

And with that, face-down against the table with Frankie's balls slapping against her ass and his knot hammering at her spade, she felt him stoking another unbidden climax within her - and the only thing left for her to do was sigh and moan and let him claim the depths of her passion once more...