FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

As the day progressed, and certain things came surging back, Gianna came to a singular conclusion about heat: for the most part, it fucking sucked.

Okay, sure, maybe there were some very, very small parts of it that, in a vacuum, could have been moderately interesting consolations for the form she was currently stuck in. As weird as it felt, unlike certain other species who just had nondescript slits or openings, at least she still had some part of her that could get engorged in at least the vaguest approximation of swelling male arousal. Had it not been for everything else that came with it - the wetness, the tight clothing that revealed it, and the fact that it was arousal for an act that was the opposite of what Gianna, or really Giancarlo, wanted to do - it actually might have been kind of fun, walking around in a state of arousal cleverly hidden away in a way that a bulging, largely impossible-to-disguise erection could not.

And again, if it hadn't been for the opposite nature of the act, one that even the domination of Hugh hadn't fully transformed from its intrusive, vulnerability-penetrating nature, there would have been a certain thrill to the notion of parading around, horny and aggressive and unashamed, in a way that society fully accepted - while men acting too sexually aggressive, in the public eye at least, was seen as creepy and abusive, and while women certainly had to accept the consequences of the actions taken in that state, a woman in heat could all but tackle a guy with little in the way of social consequences. After all, in heat, it was considered to be just "how women are," an easy excuse for canine women to give that instantly counteracted any claim that they were sluts - with heat, sometimes such things just couldn't be helped. Which was why, of course, any real shame from the last encounter would fall on Hugh and Hugh alone, and why he was so willing to play along to avoid it. Of course, as Gianna also knew very well, if heat made it hard for a woman to protest and fight back, and she was overpowered and taken by a guy as a result, the very same excuse came into play in the opposite direction.

So, two marginal advantages, both of which could only really be enjoyed in the absence of all of heat's other delightful features. And, she supposed, there was one other marginal feature of it that also might have been all right in a vacuum - with everything swelled up between her legs, it almost felt like she really had something down there again, at least in a certain, physical way. Of course, instead of that pair of big, fuzzy balls swinging free, it was still a squishy, fleshy spade that annoyed her every time she moved, but if she stood still, she could pretend, if only for the briefest of moments, that some part of her almost felt like it belonged again.

It was everything else about heat, though, that made even those small, barely-there attractions simply additional components in a cavalcade of frustration and misery. For one thing, while Giancarlo's erection might have been unwieldy within the confines of his pants, it also didn't see fit to release anything until it was buried deep within a woman's receptive passage. As Gianna, though, even the most basic, initial state of arousal jumped right to wet and messy, and as bad as that was, heat made it a dozen times worse, not only taking arousal from wet to flooded, but keeping that arousal thrumming in place for everything but the hour or so after she'd just been fucked. Actually, even that wasn't quite correct - not just fucked, but filled with some guy's gooey, sticky seed. She'd decided to go for round two with a shrimpy, nebbishy customer of hers a couple of hours later, figuring, probably in part due to her heat-inspired impulsivity, that she could drag him into a men's room stall for a quick and easy repeat of her earlier dominance to at least give her some relief. He'd been fastidious, though, insisted on using a condom, and even with that additional layer between them, he'd managed to give in after only about a dozen quick humping motions. While it had felt like a relief for the short time it was in, it lasted for only maybe half the duration she'd been satisfied before, and when the heat came surging back, it happened far more abruptly. It was no wonder, then, that with heated women, Giancarlo had never had any problems convincing them to do it bareback - there must have been some chemical in the stuff that helped to quiet things for a longer period of time. It also probably explained why the first thing most women popped when they felt heat coming on was an ovulation blocker - while heat itself apparently couldn't be so easily stopped, at least one of the more serious consequences of it could. Depressingly, though, it also meant that any real relief she could get had to come with the disgusting side effect of some guy's... stuff dripping humiliatingly out of her along with everything else.

That was made even worse, she was sure, by what all of that mess served to advertise to anyone around with a nose, or at least a canine one. Heat was torture enough on its own, in isolation, but it was compounded by just how publicly disseminated the condition was - something made even worse, she was sure, by the boneheap's enforcement of pheromone-spreading underwear. And she knew, as Giancarlo knew, just what it was advertising in the minds of any men around, something far more different than her own hastily-revised concepts of female sexuality - less "I am woman, hear me roar," more "I am woman, jam that knot in me hard and fill me up with your cum." Exactly the opposite of what she was looking for, but everything she did, every time she moved her body, that message was spread even further and even more clearly. It was impossible not to notice the way that men were looking at her - it hadn't exactly been particularly respectful before, but now, they looked at her almost hungrily. They were even more handsy that usual, which was of course made worse by the fact that her aroused body was now overly sensitive, and to her disgust a few of the gropes even managed to elicit involuntary, depressingly feminine moans that she was unable to suppress, only choke short. At the very least, she had been able to shake off the more aggressive advances, at least before the feelings overwhelmed her enough that she would allow them to drag her somewhere out of sight, but a couple of the encounters had been far too close for comfort.

And even that, of course, wasn't the worst part of it. Honestly, she could have lived with the physical aspects of it, especially if they'd been less, well, wet, but it was the mental part of the arousal that had really thrown her for a loop. It wasn't just a hunger, like male arousal had been, but closer to a desperation, something that her body wanted to give into so badly that it seemed to take everything she had to keep her mind in opposition. She felt constantly distracted, nearly at her wit's end just to keep herself professional and under control. When Jonah had walked in, all of a sudden her mind was all but back in that heated, physical nightmare from the night before, replaying his manhandling of her over and over again, and it was all she could do to keep a straight face, to keep from caving in on everything she'd said the day before, going into his office, and letting him take care of her all over again. She'd known he could see it too, and certainly smell it, as he'd given her a slight, mischievous smile and gone into his office, casually watching her from its small window as if waiting to see if she'd give in despite what she'd said. She'd managed to hide the quick bathroom encounter from him, at least, but all of a sudden it seemed like every guy was attractive, enough so that she felt muddled just talking to them, even as her mind went into some sort of perverse high gear and tried to imagine what it would feel like to be fucked by each and every one of them. It was pathetic, it was infuriating, and she was nearly at her wit's end just trying to get through the work day. That was why, when it was still before lunch and already time for a third change of her soaked-through panties, she'd dragged Amanda back into the bathroom with her to see if her apparent friend had any advice on how to handle the insanity of it - after all, Giancarlo knew that Amanda had worked though some of her less frequent heats, and while for whatever reason he'd never taken advantage of them, she'd at least never outwardly seemed nearly as unhinged and desperately on edge as Gianna felt inside.

"Well," she'd said, leaning against the counter and at least actually treating it seriously, "really, the best way to deal with it is to have a boyfriend that's available on your lunch break. It's an hour, and since you know you won't be hungry when you're like that and maybe only need to eat once a day, you can use it for other things, right? When I'm that way, I don't mind a guy being aggressive, and who cares if he doesn't hold back and just goes for it? When you're in heat, it's not the extra thrusting you need, anyway, but you already know that. Just encourage the guy, let him be quick, and even with the knot time, you can squeeze in three times if he shows up right when it starts, and that ought to get you through the rest of the day."

"And if you, um... don't?"

Amanda cocked her head, looking over quizzically. "Really? I guess I kinda just assumed that you were, well... I mean, it's not exactly a secret what you and Jonah get up to, especially since he doesn't always lock the door behind him. I, er... not that I watched you guys or anything! Not for more than a minute or two, anyway. I know it's not really boyfriend and girlfriend stuff, but you two seemed to be getting along really, really well, at least from what I could tell..."

"We're just... taking a break, I guess. A break imposed by me. And if I just went back on that, I'd look beyond spineless..."

"Or, you know, just being in heat. It happens, right? I have all kinds of friends who swore off some guy or other, and that's what it was, just stone cold - until heat rolled around, they got back together just long enough to get through it, and bam! Back to the big chill all over again. C'mon - you're a woman, after all. You get to be fickle like that. It's not your fault that you need what every woman needs when they're in heat."

"Yeah, except I... kinda told him I could just handle my heat on my own, and that I didn't need him..."

"Ouch! Yeah, probably not the best thing to say to a guy. And really, how could you say that? I mean, yeah, he's a guy, which means he's probably so clueless about this stuff that he'd actually believe it, actually be gullible enough to think that there's some magic dildo that resolves a woman's heat he should be irrationally jealous of. But you're a woman, and you've been through heat before, so I know you know better than that..."

Except, of course, that Gianna hadn't - and, of course, as Giancarlo she'd been just as clueless about how it worked as Jonah had been. Of course, her own experiment earlier probably should have clued her in - unless there was a dildo that shot actual spunk, Amanda was probably right - and while there were certain things out there to help with some aspects of heat, ovulation blockers and the like, she'd never heard of a pill or anything like that which contained whatever it was in spunk that caused heat to ramp down for a while.

"It was, um, more to win an argument than anything else..."

"Oh, yeah, I guess that makes sense, the way you get with him sometimes. But that's just how some couples are, right? Passionate whenever they interact, whether it's love, or hate, or in between. Doesn't really solve your problem, though. I guess you just have to decide... is winning the argument so important that you'd rather have it over getting what you need?"

Gianna grimaced. In a certain way, it kind of was, although with the heat driving her crazy, maybe it did matter less. After all, if she couldn't control all the nonsense her body was doing, did it really reflect badly on her as an actual person if she gave into it? It wasn't as simple as that, though. That was a perfectly acceptable point to have - if, that was, she also accepted the notion of being Gianna, of being a woman and playing by feminine rules. The fact was, though, that she was still, in essence, Giancarlo, and he wasn't the sort to play by anyone's rules but his own. Rules or not, though, none of that would matter unless she could find some way to get past the mess of hormones that were stoking her body and clouding her mind.

"So, about that magic dildo... you haven't heard of anything that works?"

Amanda considered that for a moment. "Well... not really. I mean, yeah, if it were just about the cock being there, you could get something to work, but that's not the thing that actually relieves it, it's the whole experience. And it's not just the guy's, y'know, stuff either. It's the pheromones in his scent, the feel of his touch, the way he moves and how warm he feels inside you. Even getting a... toy with a knot that works right is a challenge, and without all the other stuff, it barely does any better..."

"Nghrrr... then what the fuck am I supposed to do? This is driving me crazy..."

"So... is Jonah really off the table?"

"Let's assume he is, for now..."

"Hmm... well, I can assume Hugh is out of the question for obvious reasons. The other guys here, probably more trouble than they're worth, especially 'cause most of them are married, believe it or not. Trust me, it's not worth dealing with being the 'other woman' just for a quickie. Um... I guess if you're into that kinda thing, there are some bars and clubs that cater especially to women in heat - free cover, free drinks, and all the male attention you could want. Just as long as you don't mind it being anonymous, rough, and, well... multiple. One of my other friends was desperate enough to try it once, and I won't tell you who it was, but... she kind of ended up pulling a train for a couple of hours, and only the first hour was particularly, um, consensual. Seriously, if you know any other guys that you'd trust enough to be with, it's probably better than something like that..."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. I'll figure something out. Thanks anyway, though."

"No problem!" Amanda paused, grinning in a faux-suggestive way that didn't exactly thrill Gianna. "Although, speaking of that, there are a few guys I know who've been single for a while, and would probably jump all over what you're offering..."

"Er... I'll get back to you on that, okay?"

"Suit yourself." Amanda turned and headed out, leaving Gianna to grind her teeth for another minute before heading back to her station. Maybe, she thought, she should just drag Hugh somewhere again. Problem was, though, that his confident front was just a facade, and Gianna was now more than well aware of just how cowardly and emotionally fragile he really was. If she jumped him too much, too soon, he might just break down into a blubbering mess that wouldn't be useful for anything, let alone satisfaction. It wasn't the way Giancarlo had often done it - he'd preferred quick, anonymous, and rarely the same woman twice - but she'd have to reel Hugh's leash in more slowly. If it worked, though, she'd have a far more satisfying, and for that matter more permanent conquest, but the notion of that didn't do her much good at the moment.

She tried to work through it, heat roiling her insides, and barely, just barely, made it to her next break, and back to a toilet stall where she was all but ready to scream. She needed satisfaction, dammit! Doing any more customers seemed too risky, though, and none of the latest ones had seemed like they might be on the submissive or easily manipulated side. There was Jonah, but... she couldn't give in. Not the very next fucking day, and not to the guy who had been the first to force her to experience sex from that humiliatingly female perspective. Problem was, he was just about the only other "safe" guy she knew.

Hmm... but why did it have to be a guy? Well, true, all of the things that Amanda had mentioned, but she also knew that it wasn't just guys that could get a woman off. After all, May had managed to do... something, and whatever it was, she'd managed to climax, or at least the boneheap had claimed she had. Damn, if only she hadn't been so drunk that she couldn't remember what actually happened. Rrgh, what was it... something with her hands, maybe? Hmm...

Gianna tugged her panties down and sat uncomfortably on the toilet seat, leaning over to grimace at the swollen, slick mess of her spade. While there was a part of her that still hated the thing, and felt disgusted to look at it on her own body, let alone touch it, another, more logical part said that if she could figure out what the heck it was that May had done to it, she could do the same thing, and if that meant she could get off, male spunk or no, it would be a relief that would be better than nothing.

She looked for a moment, but swore as nothing obvious came to mind. When she'd been Giancarlo, she hadn't given a fuck whether any of the women had actually gotten off, as that had never been an important part of it, and while mashing the thing with his fingers had been enough to get them wet so that he could fuck them, Gianna had no idea what sort of touch worked for anything else. That being said, most people didn't have it as easy as those damn simians did - all you had to do with their women was to rub the really obvious pink dot above their slit, and they were off like a rocket. Still, at least she was a canine - felines got off from the pain of having their pussies shredded by those hooked cocks, or something crazy like that.

The spade, though, was an enigma. How the fuck did it work again? Just rubbing it, obviously, only got someone part of the way, and not particularly far at that. No, it was something more obtuse. There was supposed to be a sensitive nubby thing, she thought, that was somewhat equivalent for canine women, but it was actually tucked away in some obscure corner inside, like a clit and g-spot all rolled into one. Where the heck was it, though?

Gianna gulped, grimaced, and hesitated with her finger poised in front of the stupid spade. Eventually, though, her frustration and horniness outweighed her indignant trepidation, and she growled under her breath and jabbed it into the spade's center.

She worked it around for a bit, curling and uncurling and moving it in every direction she could think of, but all it seemed to do was either wave pointlessly through the hot, damp air in the center, or, further extended, sink ineffectually into the slick, puffy flesh. If there was something in there, it was hidden well away, and none of the probes resulted in much, if any, sensation at all. While the part of her hand that rubbed against the outside of her spade was still generating aggravating, arousing sensations, the inner parts of her failed to be impressed whatsoever by the fumbling presence of her single digit.

Which, she realized, was almost certainly due to heat. She didn't know a lot about how everything got all puffy like that, but she did know the basic purpose of it - to get the parts of her that expanded to be extra squishy and stretchy, so that they could spread open all the way to accept the thick canine knot. Actually, not just accept it, but stretch all the way around it once it was inside. That, in fact, was probably what was required to bring the puffy, amorphous edges of the flesh taut, and it would probably take until that happened for that sensitive spot to be revealed underneath.

Gianna pulled out, frustrated. Maybe if she tried jamming her whole fist in there... but even doing what she'd just done had left her feeling disgusted and humiliated, and if the heat hadn't been so desperate, it wouldn't even have been something she'd have contemplated. If her movements had done anything at all, it was barely noticeable, and there was nothing to do but wipe up the slick of moisture her penetration had released, pull on yet another pair of panties, and grimace her way through the rest of a workday that was beginning to seem impossibly, agonizingly long.

By the time the clock began to tick down the final minutes of her shift, she was down to one last solitary pair of un-slimed panties, and just about down to her very last nerve. It had seemed to turn out that, if left alone for long enough, there actually was an upper limit to the desperate arousal that heat was capable of stoking in her. Needless to say, that level was still a degree or two beyond reasonably bearable. For the last hour, in fact, she'd been grateful that the slow schedule allowed her to take a bathroom break every fifteen minutes, all of which had been spent pawing desperately at the at least halfway-sensitive outside of her spade and hoping that the whimpers that it elicited weren't audible enough to be heard outside. All that did, really was take the sharpest bit of the edge off, just enough to bring it barely back below the threshold where she could handle it without completely losing her mind. Even then, just having a guy, any guy, walk up to her station caused her heat to swell and her mind to just about go blank, with barely enough words to muddle through, and just enough thoughts to be horrified by what was happening to her. While those who had approached had by and large been polite, and hadn't even touched her, she was well aware that had they, instead, decided they wanted to bend her over her desk and take her, right there in front of all her coworkers, she might not have even bothered resisting.

She sped home after work, blowing through any number of lights but not even caring, running up to her apartment and slamming the door behind her before screaming out loud in frustration. How the hell was she supposed to deal with this? She could only imagine that the boneheap was probably hiding somewhere, reveling in her frustration and agony. This was what it seemed to want, after all - to make her so desperately horny that she'd be begging guys to fuck her, and as much as she hated to admit it, it felt like she was closer than ever to stooping to that level of indignity.

Fuck it, then. She'd beaten the boneheap before, and there had to be a way to do it now. There had to be something that would work, at least enough to cool things off and get through the night. And, frustrated as she was, Gianna had no problem all but ripping the stupid, skimpy work clothes off of her body, aggravating heat-panties and all, and getting down to it.

She tried just about everything, from holding the handheld showerhead against her crotch and leaving it there on deep massage until the hot water ran out, to humping more than one pillow into a sodden, misshapen mess. She'd even managed to track down the box under the bed, one that had once held Giancarlo's fapping material, and now apparently held an assortment of Gianna's "feminine" toys. They all seemed to be of the vibrating rather than inserting type, though, and the buzzing sensation, whatever it was supposed to do during other times, actually managed to make the feelings of heat worse. And while the heat itself continued to hover near its maximum limit, the mental frustration and strain only continued to build, and soon even screaming and growling at the walls wasn't enough to bleed the agonizing tension from her body. As much as she hated it, as much as she loathed what it meant, she knew that there was only one thing that was going to allow her to get through the night without tearing her own fur out or turning into a complete, heat-crazed lunatic. It took a few more minutes of growling and teeth-gnashing, though, before the desperation won out over the humiliation and she snatched the phone out of its cradle, dialing a far-too-familiar number.

"Hey, Gianna... what's up?" Contrary to what she'd expected, Jonah's voice didn't have the leering, lecherous I-told-you-so tone she'd expected. In fact, he seemed completely normal.

Well, no sense beating around the bush - after all, she'd done far too much of that already. Literally. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Oh, you know, nothing much... grabbing a bite, watching TV, the usual. Why? You need something?"

Had he really forgotten about what she'd gone through earlier that day? "I think you know what I need, dumbass, so stop screwing around!"

She heard Jonah's laughter ring in her ear. "Heh, all right, all right! Yeah, I can guess. Heck, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't half-expecting you to call. I was gonna hit up some bars, maybe look for some action later, but hey, I'd much rather be with you, so I decided to hedge my bets. And yeah, before you get pissed at me for thinking so little of you or whatever, remember that you go through this every few heats or so. I admit, the rape story threw me for a bit - usually, your excuses aren't quite that edgy - but somehow, I just knew. I mean, there is kind of a pattern going on here, after all..."

"Wait, you're accusing me of lying now!?"

"Um... maybe a little? Look, you're not the only woman I've been with, and I know you're different in a lot of ways, but I can't think of a single woman who's been raped who doesn't even shed a tear, whose voice doesn't even waver when they talk about it. I don't doubt that you got fucked, and that you were furious about it. But getting raped... people don't just shrug it off. They feel something."

"And now you're telling me how I'm supposed to fucking feel about getting raped? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Okay. Fine. Tell you what. I know you're at least honest enough with me that you're not gonna just bullshit me when I call you on something. So if it's actually true, all you have to do is say that, and I will shut up, get on my knees, apologize, grovel, beg for forgiveness, be your slave for the rest of the year if that's what you want. But if you weren't actually raped, at least have the respect for me to admit it."

Gianna gritted her teeth. Like it or not, the fucker was right - whatever their relationship was now, there were still too many memories of Jonah and Giancarlo as best friends that she couldn't just disrespect it. And for that matter, despite what had happened, Jonah still seemed to care for her, maybe a little differently, but in the same general way he'd cared for Giancarlo. True, she'd already lied to him, but the way he'd challenged her, so frank, so up-front, believing so strongly in the character he thought she had... he was right. She couldn't just feed him the same lie, even if it would be advantageous.

"No. It wasn't rape. Fact is, you're the one I felt raped by, and it was easier to make up some external excuse to keep you from jumping me again. And no, before you get all pissed off, I know you didn't actually rape me, back in the supply room." Well, actually, he had, but there was no way she was going to come up with a convincing way to explain how that had come about. "I wasn't in the... right frame of mind, I didn't want it, not really, but it all just happened so quickly, and I couldn't find it in myself to say no, even though that's what I really wanted. Rrgh... look, it's no one's fault, okay? I can't help how I feel about it, but you're also still my friend, and I didn't want some miscommunication bullshit and hurt feelings to ruin that. I just... couldn't stand to feel you on me for a while, though, so I made up a stupid lie that I thought couldn't hurt anyone, so that I wouldn't have to hurt your feelings. And the lie couldn't have hurt anyone - I didn't give a name, after all, or go to the police, or anything like that. So, now you know. Yes, I lied. I lied to protect a friendship from one stupid mistake. And now I'm in heat, so none of those bullshit feelings matter, and I don't care about what did or didn't happen in the stupid supply room because right now the only thing I care about is you helping me to take care of this heat that's driving me up the fucking wall. Happy?"

For a moment, there was just silence on the other end. When Jonah's voice picked up again, it was considerably meeker.

"Ginny... why didn't you just tell me?"

"Because I hate this sort of emotional shit, okay? And like I said, it really doesn't even matter now. And that is, in fact, because you're not exactly wrong about me. I'm really not like other women. I'm not gonna cry and get all fragile over something random like getting fucked. It happened, it was humiliating, it's over. I mean, fuck, how were you even gonna know if I didn't tell you? I'd blame it on being a woman, if I didn't think that was just a giant fucking cop-out. I really can't explain it any better than that my body just got the best of me when my mind wasn't in agreement. Not entirely different from now, in fact. Right now, though, all my mind can think about is this stupid fucking heat, so what's it gonna be? You want to sit here and talk about communication and our fucking relationship, or do you want me to drive over to your place where we can both shut up about stupid bullshit and let you fuck this heat out of me?"

"Hey, if you put it that way, can I really say no? I'm not the kinda guy who's gonna keep a woman in heat waiting, after all. Seriously, though, once this is done, we have got to talk about this. I really do fucking care about you, and the thought that I'm not picking up the right signals from you, that I'm causing you that kind of grief, that's not something that can just go unsaid. It's the same thing as before - you've gotta talk to me about this stuff if we're gonna make this 'more than friends' thing work-"

"RRRRGHHHH! Enough! Screw it. I'm coming over. You can talk your fucking heart out if you really want, but that's not happening until you take care of this heat. Got it?"

"Heh... yes, ma'am! I am, as always, at your service." She could hear him chuckling for a few seconds before he hung up.

It took all her restraint not to chuck the phone across the room. Respect was one thing, but the last thing she wanted to hear from Jonah right now was a lot of relationship nonsense. In that, sense, Giancarlo had probably had it right - whether his ways had ultimately been moral or not, at least he hadn't had to talk to any of them afterwards.

Gianna threw on some clothes, not particularly caring that the miniskirt she chose didn't actually come down far enough to cover the crotch of her underwear stretched across her swollen spade. It wasn't like she planned on staying in it for very long, anyway. Knowing how the rest of the day had gone, she shoved her hand into the underwear drawer, grabbing a random handful of panties and stuffing them in her bag, so there'd at least be something dry after what was probably going to be a messy evening.

She stormed out of the apartment, heat jangling seemingly every nerve in her body, and drove with purpose over to Jonah's house, a tiny little one-story number on a depressingly generic street right on the edge of the city's suburbs. Jonah's driveway, unsurprisingly, was filled with the classic cars he worked on sporadically, and one of his probably boring neighbors was holding a party or something, so the on-street parking was packed. She had to park several blocks away and walk over, suddenly regretting her choice of clothing, but luckily darkness had already fallen, and the only people in evidence were a jogger on the other side of the street and a woman walking her pet. The latter gave a skeptical glance at her abbreviated ensemble, but mercifully kept her mouth shut, and a few moments later Gianna was impatiently hammering on Jonah's door.

He opened it with a confident grin on his face, wearing nothing more than a pair of boxer briefs and a robe opened to showcase his fuzzy, muscular chest. In one hand, he held a bottle of champagne, the other a pair of glasses, and actually clutched a single red rose in his muzzle, the display so clichéd that Gianna had a hard time telling whether it was intended to be mocking or sincere.

"Mmh glph... gah!" Jonah said, spitting the stem out of his mouth a moment later. "Fuck! Dammit, I could have sworn I stripped all the thorns off..."

Despite it all, Gianna couldn't help but laugh at that - well, at least for a second, before Jonah's smell kicked the heat back into overdrive, and she shoved him back through the doorway and slammed the door behind both of them.

"Um, hey, Gianna," he said, looking a little surprised as she shoved him into the wall. "Wow that's just a little more aggressive than you usually are when you're in- mmph!" Gianna, of course, quickly cut him off by mashing her muzzle against his, not so much to be romantic as to drive home her desperation.

"Shut up," she said as soon as they parted. "You have ten seconds to safely set the champagne down somewhere, and then you'd better be on your bed, on your back, naked and rock fucking hard. I haven't had sex in hours, and I'm going to jump out of my own fucking fur unless I get some right the fuck now."

"Damn," Jonah said, darting over to set everything down on a nearby coffee table. "I know it's the heat talking, but even with that, if all women were as eager as you, this world would be a really different place..."

"Bed. Now."

"Yeah, I'm on my way," he said, heading quickly down the hall and shedding the robe as he did so. In the doorway to the bedroom, though, he turned his head back towards her. "Uh, you really want me on my back? Nothing wrong with that, of course, but not usually what women in heat are looking for..."

"YES," Gianna half-growled.

"Oh, yeah, you are definitely ready," Jonah replied, trying to talk under his breath but still loud enough for her to hear. He complied quickly enough, though, managing to get out of his sole remaining clothing with a practiced motion in well under a second, revealing a manhood that was already enthusiastically responding to the presence of her heat. Naked or not, he still flopped onto the bed with an easy confidence, his cock pointing just about straight up from his sheath in a clear, unwavering display of masculinity.

She realized that, even with what had happened between them in the file room, she'd never actually gotten a good look at his cock - which made sense, given that, by the time he'd had it out, she'd been bent over a file cabinet face-down, and all she'd been able to do was feel the thing going inside of her. Looking at it now, though, and she was frankly amazed that she had managed to squeeze the thing inside her - well, at least how she had been a couple of days ago. Now, with the way heat had swelled everything out in such a depressingly feminine way, she had little doubt that she could take the thick, bulging shaft on, baseball-sized knot and all. Even so, though, the knot was still big enough to give her pause. Obviously, if her fake history with Jonah was true, this was hardly the first heat she'd spent with him, which also meant it was probably not the first time the knot had done its thing. Still, it seemed like he spade would have to stretch to the point where its edges were literally pressed open all the way from the edge of one thigh to the other to get it in. Suddenly, looking at the thing from her new perspective, she realized why canines had such a comparatively easy time giving birth: if you had to handle being stretched by something like that on a regular basis, a baby probably only differed be a matter of degree.

Gianna shook her head, grimacing. That, really, was the last thing she wanted to be thinking about. Luckily or not, her heated mind was more than happy to indulge her wish, substituting it with some weird, distorted memory of her getting pounded and apparently loving it. Not really any better, but in a few moments it would all be irrelevant. Someone was going to get pounded, sure, but while there was no way around having something going inside her rather than her humping into someone else, she had no intention of leaving any doubt as to who was in charge. After all, there was no better way to dispel the notion from before, that she was just some submissive female that could be bent over and taken at will, then to get on top and take control in the same way she had with Hugh. Jonah, of course, wasn't such a weaselly pushover, but if he was accustomed to playing different roles with her, surely he would be willing enough to indulge a woman in heat in the way that she dictated.

Seeing him there waiting for her, taking in his scent and his hormones at full strength now that there was no longer clothing to at all obscure them, meant that her patience was just about up. At the very least, she was used to the new clothing enough by now that she no longer had to struggle getting it off, and even the bra quickly unhooked and fell happily away from the swollen nipples that it had been aggravatingly containing. It wasn't much of a striptease, but certainly one appropriate to someone in heat - there probably hadn't been much more than ten seconds from when she'd first reached towards her shirt to the impatient kick that sent her sodden panties arching off into the corner of the bedroom where everything else had already landed.

Now that she was naked, even the air gently cooling the moisture that slickly coated the outside of her spade was enough to leave it feeling aggravated, and some combination of heat and muscle-memory instinct from Giancarlo at seeing someone lying prone before her caused a hand to dart down between her legs to stroke at her arousal. Her spade, though, aroused and as erect as it was capable of being, still only extended down less than an inch between her legs, and so the instinctual stroke quickly slipped off and fumbled awkwardly in the air, momentarily puzzled by the slick, warm sheen that now coated her fingers. The touch, though, had obliterated the last shred of patience that her heat could tolerate, and she growled with a triumph born of conquest as she pounced forward onto the bed, quickly straddling Jonah and for a moment pinning his arms down with her own, leaning over and looking him confidently in the eyes.

"Don't even think of moving," she half-growled, her voice throaty, deep, but still determinedly even. "Feel free to moan all you like, though, because this time, I'm the one fucking you."

Jonah just grinned back up at her, although she thought she could detect just the barest hint of his cheeks flushing beneath his fur. Just as she had thought, he seemed to be getting off at least somewhat on her aggressiveness in the same way that he did his own. "Hey, you want to do all the work for now, be my guest. You know I'm gonna enjoy it either whaaaaaunnnn..."

Gianna's body had already had more than enough talking, and whether or not Jonah had had any intention of being all talk like Hugh had been, it had apparently decided that Jonah wouldn't even be given the chance to back out. As her hips straddled him, the tip of his cock brushed along one of the puffy pads of her spade, from the outside in, and before there was even a chance of it sliding back out along one of the others, her hips rocked down hard, and all of a sudden that immense sensation of relief was back as Jonah's warm flesh stroked against hers. Even the hot, impossible girth of his knot nudging against her spade no longer seemed particularly intimidating at all, and from the moment her hips rocked down she was in motion, forcefully stroking her inner walls against his cock, thrilling at the scene of him gasping and desperately trying to stifle moans beneath her, and exulting at the way his cockhead kept rubbing up and down along her insides as they used it to scratch that aggravating itch, over and over and over again until it was soon little more that barely discernible background noise, and then all but disappeared - except, of course, for that one aggravating place deep low in her belly that seemed all but impossible to reach. Instead, the main aggravation was quickly replaced by a pleasurable sensitivity that built comfortably and confidently as her body humped along his length. She leaned down over him, feeling his fur brush against her breasts as they rocked back and forth in time with her movements, barely even noticing the raggedness of her own breath and the putative moans that were beginning to thrum deep within her own chest as she brought her face down towards his own, feeling his breath puffing out hotly against her neck as his own stamina desperately tried to keep up with her frantic, humping rhythm, driven by heat to be rapid even for a canine. A couple of times, he tried to bring his hands up to her side, apparently to control her rhythm, but each time she slapped them away, and they quickly retreated.

"D-damn, Gi', you're not usually this... hnh... intense..."

"Yeah, well, you want to be with me, you'd better get used to taking that intensity..."

"Gi', I'm not kidding, though, I can't hold out much longer, you... hahh... keep it up like that. An' you're in heat, so you know what that means..."

His hands reached back up, but this time, instead of going for her hips, they wrapped around her back, and she suddenly found herself pressing down tightly against him, firmly contained by his muscular arms. Then he rolled over, and Gianna, clutched tightly in his embrace, rolled over along with him.

For a moment, Gianna could feel his entire weight pressing down on her, heavy enough to momentarily force the wind out of her chest. His hands were already releasing from underneath her, though, and his weight quickly lifted from her torso as he propped himself up onto elbows splayed to either side of her. The pressure, though, still stayed in place across her hips, with Jonah's pressed down against hers and her thighs splayed open along the width of his torso. His cock, of course, stayed firmly inside her, momentarily motionless and simply imposing its presence within.

"H-hey! What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Gianna growled up at him, pissed at the sudden, forceful reversal of control.

"You know... hahh... exactly what I'm doing," Jonah replied, still catching his breath above her. "Every time you stay on top, you keep going, but never hard enough to get the knot in yourself. Then I come before it's in, your heat isn't fixed, and you get super-pissed at me. You know that's why we've done it this way ever since."

"Rrgh... seriously?"

"Seriously. So stop growling at me, and let me give you what you NEED."

As he spoke, she felt the pressure relieve against her pelvis for a moment, and his shaft sliding back along her insides. His last syllable, though, was punctuated by his hips slamming back down against her, hard, with a shocking thud that seemed to reverberate through her abdomen. All of a sudden, his knot wasn't just resting or nudging or pressing against the edge of her spade, it was mashing in forcefully, and she felt the pads of it stretching and straining against its girth. Stretch as they might, though, the knot only seemed to sink in slightly between them, although it mashed in insistently for several seconds before pulling back, only to slam down again, even harder. This time, Gianna gasped at the impact, but to her surprise, as forceful as it seemed, it didn't actually hurt. The thick pads of her spade seemed to absorb the shock, even as they seemed to find a new level of resiliency and stretch even further, and she could feel the outer edges of her spade shoved into the fur on her thighs by the knot's presence between them - even as Jonah's tip probed even deeper, into a place nothing else had ever been, but closer to that awful, insistent ache that had been seemingly unreachable. Then, before she could even properly react to the strange, impossible stretching sensation, he'd pulled back and slammed down once more, straining her to what seemed the absolute limit, and she could truly feel herself splayed from thigh to thigh as her spade hugged tightly to the full girth of the knot as it seemed to hover for a moment, stuck, but slowly edged its way through. And once the thickest part was over, the rest followed, and as there was nothing left to impede it the force behind it shoved the whole thing in between her legs in a sudden, shuddering instant. She could actually, horribly, hear an audible squelching noise as the thing popped inside her, but it was the feeling of the thing that quickly tore focus from any other sensation.

It was a feeling that was hard to describe, a sensation of incredible, impossible fullness. Not just her spade, but every part of her suddenly felt stretched to its limit, strained and distorted and suddenly forced to conform around the massive bulge wedged inside her. Even her spade was still being stretched, somehow outward away from her body this time, hugging tightly against the base of the knot and seeming to nudge it even more firmly within her. Top, bottom, the rest of Jonah's presence around her seemed completely irrelevant, all but nonexistent against the way that his cock essentially dominated her insides.

It should have been horrible, her body being completely overtaken like that, and for the tiny part of her that was still clearly aware beyond the blazing fire of heat pulsing through her mind, it truly was - and for that part of her, the part that still wanted to be Giancarlo, it was a true humiliation, her most feminine parts shoved into the most vulnerable and submissive formation they could possibly take, trapped and pinned under a man who had effortlessly dominated her. For everything else, though, and especially for the heat, it was a staggering triumph - for the very first time, something had pushed deep enough to take on the last, deepest, most desperate itch that lurked inside of her. At the same time, as the knot stretched her convoluted inner folds tight around it, as her walls stretched smooth and taut along its shape they also revealed the desperately sensitive spots that had remained hidden from Gianna's earlier probing, and as the knot both stimulated them and shoved them against the taut heat of her own conforming flesh, the stress and tension and frustration from the entire day seemed to dive deep into her belly, building and swelling rapidly until it built into an agonizing crescendo that made Gianna cry out before biting at the edge of her muzzle. All it took at that point, hovering on the edge of something inexplicable, was for Jonah to move just the slightest bit against the beyond-sensitive spots inside her, and Gianna let out an involuntary howl as the sensation seemed to detonate inside her.

It took several moments for Gianna to even realize that she was climaxing, as the sensation of it was so completely different than what she'd experienced as a man. That, as powerful as it had been, hadn't really gone much beyond his own pelvis, that thrilling sense of dominance and inevitability before his body took over and pulsed his seed into his willing, or unwilling, victim. This, though, started with something that felt almost like an electric shock, but unlike the pain of the stun guns that Giancarlo had been nailed with a couple of times, this shock felt incredible, holding her entire body in thrall for what felt like several seconds, every part of her tensed and thrumming with an inexplicable intensity, limbs clenching and jerking and throbbing as the tension burst through them. Then, as quickly as it had arrived, all of the tension she'd been holding inside seemed to dissipate in a wave of relief, leaving her suddenly weak and trembling all over, no part of her seeming to want to obey her conscious commands as the blissful sense of relief washed over her mind and quickly blunted even those. It should have been terrifying, her body seeming to just take over, but all she could feel was the relief, even as her insides seemed to hug even tighter around Jonah, the muscles surrounding her taut inner walls clenching down around them, throbbing again and again of their own volition. She knew what they were doing, knew what they were inevitably encouraging, but all she could do was lie there unmoving and feel it play out within and without: looking up through eyes that had suddenly gone soft-focus into Jonah's face as it twisted into an unmistakable orgasmic grimace, feel her entire body rock back against the bed from the involuntary, humping thrust of his hips designed to shove as deeply into her as possible, and even as the reverberation caused her breasts to rock back far enough to just barely brush against the lower edge of her muzzle, she felt the powerful throb pulse through his base and along his length, and the first spurt of heat splash against whatever it was that her own climax had allowed his tip to nestle comfortably into.

With each wet splash of warmth, deep inside, another wave of relief flooded through her, and while Jonah's own heat seemed to pool in one particular place, it seemed to spur ripples of warmth that radiated outward until it seemed to permeate her entire abdomen and left her strangely, involuntarily tranquil. As warm as it was, though, the most blissful part of it was the fact that even the very last vestiges of heat seemed to have been washed away, and even as Jonah's pulses trailed off inside her, she couldn't help but let out a supremely satisfied sigh. Dominated or not, humiliating or not, the even more horrid oppression of heat had finally been broken, and for a minute or so Gianna was happy enough to bask in the sensation of pure relief and enjoy her momentary victory. After that, though, the most pleasant sensations rapidly subsided over the course of a few seconds, returning her to a reality where she was a woman, lying on a bed with a man on top of her, with the entirety of her sex, from the pads of her spade to the entrance of her womb, surrendered to a throbbing, unmoving, and completely dominating male presence.

Looking up at Jonah's panting face, feeling him against and inside her, suddenly filled her with disgust: with the act, with heat, with her pathetic, succumbing female form, with the boneheap, with everything. It was the last position she had ever wanted to be in - even if he'd been caught, and sent off to prison, Giancarlo was tough and aggressive enough that the notion of being forced into a submissive position would have been remote even there. Now, though, she was on the very bottom, control and integrity over her own body long gone, and in thrall to some horrible, hormonal thing that had let her give those things up far, far too easily. The disgust, the feelings, were far too great, and soon her hands were against Jonah's chest, trying to shove him away as she growled into his face.

"Get... rrngh... off me!"

"Huh?" Jonah's face, still half-dazed from his climax, snapped back into alertness.

"I said, get the fuck off me already!"

"Really? Look, Gianna, I know that after the other stuff you didn't want me really, well, dominant, but if you were still feeling the heat it'd be even worse, and I tried to be as gentle as I could but it's hard to hold back when you're like that, and it does take some force to get the knot in-"

"I don't want to hear it! Just... get out, get off, now! I don't want to feel this!"

"Gianna, I wish I could, but you know I can't..."

"What the hell do you mean, you can't?"

"Um, the knot..."

Shit. Yeah, of course that wasn't just going to slide on out. Even if it was mostly from the other side of the knot, Giancarlo's memory knew full well that while a spade stretched easily when pushing the thing in, once it got inside everything tightened up, and the knot wasn't going anywhere until it was significantly deflated. Which meant that her awful situation was actually even worse - not only did she have to be in that humiliating position, stretched around a cock, she was trapped there beneath him for the next several minutes.

Well... around him, and maybe next to him, but not necessarily beneath him, at least. "Grr... fine. At least roll back over so I don't have to feel your weight on me."

He complied, and while she still remained stuck and impaled in a sort of splay-legged straddle, at least she was back on top.

Jonah, at least, didn't seem particularly perturbed by it, looking back up at her with a face that still sported a grin, but there was definitely something serious behind it.

"So... seeing as you're a captive audience for the next few minutes, and that you're heat's been satisfied for now, maybe we should have that talk now..."

"Seriously?" Gianna looked down at him incredulously. "I'd be asking which one of us is the woman in this relationship if I wasn't in this current... position. And really, you actually want to try talking about our relationship with your dick jammed inside me?"

"Er, well, when you put it like that..." Jonah replied, no longer smiling. "It's just... I don't know what to think. You know, before, I thought that I... I got you, maybe not perfectly, but generally we were on the same wavelength, our conversations, the stuff we did, and sex, obviously. We just, our relationship just worked. There wasn't any bullshit between us like there usually is between men and women. But the past few days, it's like... you're a different person, or I am, or something, but it's not just flowing like it used to, all of a sudden all that unspoken stuff between us is completely different and I don't even know how to read it anymore. All I want to do is figure out why so we can get back to how things were..."

Yeah, well, it's probably because I *am* a different person, Gianna thought, but that was yet one more explanation she couldn't give.

"I... don't know what to tell you. Things just... haven't felt the same lately, I haven't felt the same, there's just been a lot of confusing stuff going on and I feel like my world's been turned upside down. I know it might not seem like it just from looking at me, and I'm not sure I could explain why I feel this way if I tried, but it's just been overwhelming. I... I want to go beyond this. I want to be stronger. More in control. I want to be the one who works on the cars, not the glorified receptionist who hands work off to them. I want to be a strong... person, taking control over my life, not some weak bitch who goes into heat at least once a week and comes back to a guy with her tail between her legs because her body is so desperate to be fucked. I'm just... sick of it, angry, frustrated, and I know I shouldn't take it out on you - I mean heck, you're at least trying, which is more than most guys do." More than I ever did, for sure... "So, no, it's not about you. It's not even about us. I just don't want to feel like I'm underneath a guy right now, physically or metaphorically."

Gianna clamped her jaw shut - explanatory or not, while it wasn't quite the whole truth, it was a little more than she'd planned to give away about her feelings. Probably because of the heat, or at least that was what she hoped. And while Jonah looked a little confused over some of it, it seemed like he understood it for the most part.

"Shit... well, I did ask you to lay it all on me, so fair enough. I guess I just don't understand... if you wanted to feel more equal or whatever, with sex and everything, how come you kept encouraging all that dominant stuff? Why just reverse course a couple of days ago?"

"I guess something, I'm not sure what, was just the last straw, and I ended up coming face to face with how things were and couldn't stand it any more. I wanted to make a change, change things up, but before I could get into it with you, you cornered me in the file room, things went off the rails, and... well, you know the rest. I wanted to feel strong, and what happened made me feel weak, and maybe that's not fair to you, but while I can maybe help what I think, feelings just... are."

"Okay... yeah, I get that. And believe me, making you feel that way was the last thing I was after. I mean, hell, Gianna, you're tougher than just about any other woman I've met. Yeah, you go into heat, and sure it's kinda all the time, but when you do, you fucking handle it. You take charge. A lot of women in heat just go to a bar, drink just enough to absolve them of all responsibility, and wait for some guy to manhandle them and bend them over. Heck, I've been with enough of them here and there, and you can tell that they've just got no respect for themselves, so you can't have any respect for them, either. You, though, I've got crazy respect for. Just for example, what I said about other women, most girls in your position would be going all jealous and catty and bitching me out for thinking with my dick or whatever, but that's never bothered you. You're just so straightforward about all of it, treating it like it is, like it should be. You don't take shit from anyone, let alone me, and if you're pissed off, you just tell me to my face instead of dodging it. I guess that's why I was worried, before, with you being all evasive and making shit up... it just wasn't like you. But I guess that was just up to a crazy couple of days. Hearing you now, it's like... it feels like you're back to your old self. Well, without some of the kinkier stuff, I guess, but that's fine too. The important part is that you know how much I respect you, and that I do think you're strong. And really, if you like to submit in the bedroom, it doesn't have to relate to the rest of the world... just because you play at it in private doesn't mean you're not strong otherwise, just that you're okay with turning it off for a little while."

Gianna sighed. She had to admit he'd been going strong on the pep talk, but he just had to come back to that... well, given how Giancarlo had felt, she supposed she couldn't blame him. It was true that as a guy, at least for the one she'd used to be, the feeling of completely dominating a woman was a power unlike anything else...

"Well, I don't think I'll be turning it off any time soon. You gonna be okay with that?"

"Yeah, probably... being with you is fun, either way. And I guess it is kinda fun, even for me, to take a break and let someone else take charge for a change..."

"All right. But that's something for another night, don't you think?" As she finished, she pulled her body forward, feeling the partly-diminished knot straining against the inner edges of her spade. It took a moment of squirming, uncomfortable struggle, but the knot was deflated enough that she was able to pull free from around it, feeling the rest of him follow suit until the tip glanced off the outer edge and fell away. Finally parted, she rolled over onto the bed beside him.

"So," he said, shifting on the bed next to her. "Think that took care of it, or do you wanna try and go another round?"

"I think that's enough for tonight, yeah. Even if I wasn't exactly thrilled about getting flipped over like that, I have to admit, it did get the job done..."

"Nrglblxt," Jonah replied, and Gianna blinked, trying to parse what he'd just said. All of a sudden, though, he seemed to be making a strange, gurgling sort of noise, and when she turned her head and glanced over at him, his limbs seemed to twitch oddly for a couple of seconds before becoming limp.

"Uh, Jonah... you all right there?"

"Oh yes, my dear," he said, turning his head towards her. "Thanks to you, I'm doing just fine."

She started at the sound of Jonah's words. It was still Jonah's voice, for the most part, but something about the cadence and tone of it were just... wrong. The voice itself almost sounded like he'd been gargling with razor blades, and some of the words suddenly seemed to have the emphasis on the wrong syllable, like all of a sudden it wasn't his first language. For a moment, she wondered if he was having a stroke or something, but he did, in fact, seem fine otherwise now that the strange movements had stopped.

"You sure? Maybe I should call a doctor or something..."

"I can assure you that won't be necessary. As I said, I'm fine. And you're going to be too - very, very soon."

As weird as the change was, the sudden, almost menacing undertone certainly wasn't anything she felt particularly interested in.

"Jonah, if this is your idea of some sort of weird joke, I'm really not in the mood. Like I said, I think I'm gonna take off now. And seriously, if you're playing, just say so, otherwise I'm gonna call a doctor for you."

"Oh, I very much doubt that. In fact, my dear, I don't think you're going anywhere. You see, you're still in heat, and I doubt one barely passable go of it could possibly satiate you. No, I think we're both going to stay right here until you're completely taken care of."

The voice sounded even stranger, and even as the sinister implications of the words began to sink in, she realized that the voice wasn't the only thing that was wrong. There was a strange glint in his eyes, and as she watched the spot of light swelled and built into their very center, his pupils suddenly glowing a bright, intense red. And as she saw them, a knot of fear suddenly thudding in her chest, she came to a sudden, horrible realization: even if it was Jonah's body in front of her, something that was definitely not Jonah was now inhabiting it.

There was no time to think about it, though, because as soon as whatever it was inside Jonah had spotted the realization in her eyes, it had set his body into motion. He was suddenly turning over, arms grasping towards her as he lunged, and all she could do was try to react, try to dodge away. Problem was, while the climax had bled all of that heat and stress out of her, it had left her too fucking relaxed, and even the fear-driven spike of adrenaline wasn't enough to fully shake her out of it. It felt like she was moving through a swamp, but Jonah was still going at full speed, and the hand she'd reached out to shove him away, to give her enough momentum to push apart from him and roll away off the bed, was caught by a swift-moving hand in mid-swing and yanked over across her body. She felt her shoulder protest at the sudden motion, even as it turned the upper part of her body part of the way over, and when she tried to twist the rest of herself the other way to squirm out from the grasp, his other hand clamped onto her hip like a vise, his powerful muscles effortlessly flipping her over onto her stomach. She yelped in protest, trying to kick back and up as she felt him looming over her, struggled against his iron grip on her arm as he yanked up on it. She wasn't nearly strong enough to counteract it, though, even as he pulled her wrist up past her head and pinned it to the bed, his elbow pushing down suddenly against the back of her head and shoving her muzzle into the pillow, letting up only just enough to let her breathe. His other hand released her hips, and she kicked and struggled from the awkward position, feeling her heel make contact several times. It had no effect, though, and in the meantime he'd captured her other arm and brought it back over her head as well, using one hand to pin both her wrists in place while the other did something that she couldn't see. Then she felt hot, panting breath against the back of her neck and a deep, feral snarl in her ear, and a moment later his body was heavy against her back, pressing down on her torso even as one of his feet and then the other hooked around her flailing ankles and pinned them down as well. The only part left she could still move at all was her hips and thighs, and the only thing they could do was squirm and struggle a little, even as a new realization formed in Gianna's mind: she was about to be raped, really raped, and there wasn't a thing she could do to stop it. Not that it stopped her trying - she twisted her arms and strained her legs, struggling with every part of her, even made muffled attempts to scream, but it did no good. Whatever possessed Jonah seemed to know that, as it just stayed on top of her for a while, taking in and apparently enjoying her struggle, occasionally letting up slightly and allowing her the slightest bit of hope before bringing its grip firmly back down. It held her down, toying, torturing, filling her with the agonizing anticipation of what was to come.

When it did, it happened suddenly and without ceremony, just the forceful stab of his tip squarely in the center of her spade, the horrible, intrusive stretching as his shaft spread it forcefully open despite her best efforts to clench something, anything inside her to resist it, followed by shock after shock as he immediately went to maximum speed without any ramp-up at all, just rough, savage humping. She felt herself pounded down into the sheets, her whole body shaking with each thrust, and as she felt each merciless stroke inside her, as she whimpered into the pillow despite herself, it was the strangest thought that flashed through her brain amidst the sudden humiliation and the overbearing stimulation:

It's supposed to hurt, isn't it? Why isn't it hurting?

But she was in heat, and even being there beneath him, powerless and helpless and weak and used in the most awfully feminine way, even as the rest of her ached and strained under Jonah's unwanted weight, the one part of her that wasn't protesting was the one between her legs, and she hated the way the rapid, brutal thrusts were stoking a horrid, aroused tension along her inner walls, even stronger and more uncontrollably than before. Disgustingly, contemptibly, that part of her didn't want it to stop, didn't even seem to want to resist, and the last weak attempts to squirm her hips quickly evaporated as her whole body and most of her mind seemed to give itself over to the pounding sensation flowing through her.

The pounding had been forceful enough that her spade was already reeling and yielding against the knot partway through, and so when the quick humping paused for the briefest of moments as he pulled back, just long enough for Gianna to gain barely enough composure to realize what was about to happen, it took just one forceful slam down into her to lodge the knot irrevocably into place. And once it was in, as much as she desperately wanted to resist it, as much as she gritted her teeth and wailed at the ultimate violation, it was only a matter of moments before her pussy shuddered intensely around the knot and fired the stunning shock through her that presaged the throbbing, uncontrollable climax that quickly coaxed another hot, pulsing load to be deposited horribly, humiliatingly, into her belly. And then the rest of it followed, the trembling weakness and weird, relaxing warmth, like everything was supposed to be okay, like her body had seen fit to reward her for being raped. And through it all, there was Jonah's horrible closeness, the feel of a loving companion betrayed and twisted by whatever awfulness the boneheap had surely set inside him.

Throughout the few brief, brutal minutes of the rape, the thing hadn't said a single other word, all pants and growls as it spoke through Jonah's body of its dominance and control. Now that Gianna was lying panting and quiescent under him with the fire to fight back residing only in a small, suppressed corner of her mind, whatever it was deigned to speak again, forcing its loud, harsh, and profoundly wrong tones out through Jonah's muzzle.

"So... Giancarlo... enjoying the feeling of being a heated, compliant, and oh-so-easily-broken bitch? After all, it seems like those were your favorite sort..."

"You know my... hnhh... real fucking name, huh?" Gianna managed to get out between heaving, gasping breaths.

"But of course. Wouldn't be much fun to take someone if I didn't, especially someone in your... fascinating situation."

"So you're... hahh... what? The boneheap without the bones? You gonna take over everyone I've ever met just to fuck with me?"

The thing that possessed Jonah laughed at that, a sound that was harsh, cruel, and mercifully short. "Oh, that is interesting. I should have guessed, really - this whole scene just has that bony psychopath's feel all over it. But no, I'm just a... demon, I guess, is a close enough description. No, I was drawn here by a very delicious-sounding curse that was just floating its alluring tendrils out there into the world, and once I inhabited this guy and figured out what was up, it was far, far too interesting to resist."

Gianna tried to shift under him, tried to lift her head up enough from the pillow that she could easily turn to the side and glare at Jonah and the demon that had set his eyes glowing red, but he felt even that brief motion and set his weight and muscle heavily against her again, pushing her back down against the sheets and shifting his bulk to effectively pin her back into place. It was casual enough for him, even, that he continued the conversation like it had never happened.

"And you know, once I got into your head, I realized that what you've actually got going on in there really is the most intriguing part. Especially considering what an object lesson this is into just how right Giancarlo's theory of the world, of men and women, really is."

"What? What the fuck are you talking about?" Revisiting her previous thoughts on women was just about the last thing she wanted to do with her rapist's cock, or at least the cock it was abusing, still fucking lodged inside her.

"Oh, I think you know all too well what I'm talking about. Probably kicking yourself now that the situation's shifted away from your advantage, but you're not wrong. All that time, holding a viewpoint that was positively primordial in this so-called modern world's politically correct society, being derided for it and playing it out in secret, without realizing just how fundamental it is.

"The ironic thing, of course, is that back in those primordial times, there weren't conflicts or viewpoints or modern moralistic debates. The things that would become people were then no more than base, low animals, living lives so instinctive as to be all but preprogrammed. Back then, there was no nonsense about rights and wrongs, no discussions of choice and consequence, just simple roles that each sex was bound by their instincts to play out. The females came into season, the males fought each other for access to them, the females were bred, and a new generation was born. No one questioned the male risking getting his throat ripped out over that combative imperative, and no one questioned whether or not the winner had the right to take any female he chose, or that the females ought to have had a choice in their prospective mate. It was simple, raw, and true. I know this, of course, because I was there. Back when things were wild. Watching and enjoying myself, even as that long, slow evolution towards sentience finally began.

"Somewhere along that journey, of course, women began to understand what they were going through, and started to decide that they wanted to have a choice. Wanted to hide themselves from the victors, or find ways to pull away before the seed was set into place. Wanted to delude themselves that they could take matters into their own hands. Before that, after all, there were no such things as knots, and no need for them - everyone just played their part without question. Which meant that when the women wanted to pull away, they could, and the males, while stronger, were also clumsier and less able to secure them to seal the deal, and why would they, if they never had to before? And so, for the very first time, some women were briefly allowed to choose, allowed to escape. Funny thing about evolution, though - the women who avoided their fate and their breeding didn't send another generation on into history, while the women who were able to be subdued did."

"Yeah, okay, I get it, women who get fucked actually have kids. You raped me, you're literally lying on top of me and still raping me, and the way you want to gloat is by giving me some long-winded history lesson?"

"Oh, it's not a history lesson, so much as me proving both our points, and showing you why, no matter how you struggle or delude yourself, the position you find yourself in now is, in fact, the one you and all women are destined to be in." He paused for a moment to bury Jonah's muzzle into her neck, forcing another shudder to run through her and cause her to squeeze around the girth of the cock that stretched and filled her, yet another pointed reminder, literally, of what she was being subjected to.

"Now, assuming I won't have to remedy any more interruptions..." He trailed off, and when he heard nothing but Gianna sulking silently beneath him, he continued.

"As I was saying, as people's minds evolved, they hungered even more, women especially, for power and for choice, for their own self-determination - but even as that natural selection expanded their minds, their bodies continued to adapt along those lines of survivability, guaranteeing the strongest genes and the most successful breedings. That meant, of course, that not only did men become stronger, but also swifter, their musculature better adapting to both pouncing on prey and pinning a mate to limit her resistance. Females, on the other hand, became weaker in some ways but more resilient than others, more easily subdued but better able to handle and survive the more aggressive matings. Still, the mind called for freedom, and women still found ways to wriggle free, to escape before their offspring could be guaranteed. And so, over time, it was the males who ensured their mates didn't escape, either through complete physical control or through a protrusion that swelled up and prevented the female from pulling off of them until she was bred, that won out. It was, indeed, truly a delicious time to watch things evolving, to watch an act that had been automatic and mutual and, even if preprogrammed, technically egalitarian, and turn into such a delicious, and eventually one-sided, power struggle. It was a delight to see an entire group of people, struggling with their newfound intelligence and desire for choice, only to have the most fundamental ones fall to pieces once their first season rolled around and a powerful man decided the course of their lives in a single, brutal, unavoidable night.

"And even then, through all that, women still struggled. Still fought against the inevitability of the day when a powerful man would take them despite everything they tried to the contrary. So desperate were some that they fought against all reason, strained and pulled themselves away from knots that they couldn't possibly escape, tearing their own insides open in the efforts and suffering bloody, agonizing deaths as their mind's struggle for choice came into lethal conflict with their own biology. And so it was that the ones who survived were the ones that had bundles of nerve endings in just the right place, the ones whose bodies and autonomic systems wouldn't even let them make that futile struggle, that survived, and even as they did so, they baked the ultimate submission into the female DNA of every evolved canine that would follow.

"And that, really, is the beauty of the thing, and the fundamental idea at the core of your philosophy - that no matter what words come out of their mouths, no matter what thoughts bounce around between their ears, a woman's body is built to submit to a man and be bred by him, so much so that as soon as a woman in heat is properly knotted, her own biology forces her into a climax powerful enough that she is rendered quickly quiescent, muscles stuck in enforced relaxation that allows for little further struggle as the seed is implanted. And if she somehow manages to recover enough to renew the struggle before it is complete, to try to get away before she is fully bred, a few quick humps is all it takes to force her inevitably back into that pleasurable quiescence. This is something that you already know instinctively, as it's something you yourself, in another form, have taken advantage of on more than one occasion, although deluded into believing that it was due to your own sexual prowess rather than a biological inevitability. Women, as you can see, are made to submit, and men are made to make them submit - and once a man can force a knot into place, child's play really for a woman in out-of-control heat such as yourself, there is nothing you can know but submission."

"That's... b-bullshit..." Gianna stammered, both hating the way the demon had turned Giancarlo's own views against her, and fearing the weight of the evidence that the thing had outlined. She had known of her female vulnerability ever since she'd assumed that form, but it couldn't be that overwhelming of a weakness... could it?

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. After all, I'm a demon. That means I basically lie and torture people for a living, enjoy getting into their heads and twisting their worlds around until they don't even know which way is up. So maybe I am making it all up, just to bring you face to face with the horror of being trapped in your own philosophy. But consider this: you've already felt what I've done to you. You've already felt how your body has reacted so far. And in a moment, I'm going to hump my knot inside you, and we'll see if you can handle even ten seconds of it without succumbing to the inevitable. And once you do that, and come face to face with just how futile your struggle against me is, I'm going to spend the rest of the night bedding and knotting and breeding you until you really see just how inevitable it is - no matter how you act, or what you do, you're going to be right back where you are now, feeling exactly the same thing, knowing just how unavoidable that seed is as it plants itself inside you."

Even from her humiliating position underneath him, Gianna managed to eke out a thin, fang-bearing grin. "Really? Then the joke's on you, dumbass - thanks to our mutual bone-clattering friend, I may be female, but I'm all but spayed, just so he doesn't have to take a break for watching me being fucked to watch me being hideously pregnant. So if you think that's your big point of terror, it's you that's deludedly mistaken."

The demon paused for a moment, even as it forced Jonah's arms to hold her own down even more tightly. "Hmm... and so you're right. Well, it matters not. Later consequences or no, your current position is still the same - and trust me, before the night is through, I am going to make it undeniably clear as to precisely what your position and role actually are. But first, just like that, I'm going to show you just how easy it is, once a woman is in the proper position, to make them submit fully and completely..."

Even as the demon trailed off, she could feel Jonah's body moving against her, his hips shifting back against hers, knot tugging back against the entrance of her stretched, snug spade. Then, with a harsh, rough buck, he slammed back against her, his tip digging in hard deep inside her even as the knot rammed home against the taut flesh that surrounded it, mashing inevitably against the sensitive bud that its girth exposed so easily and sending a tensing shock shuddering through her. Already, her body was clenching back around him, and it took every bit of willpower she had left to squirm her body underneath him just enough to lessen the pressure against that sensitive part, one that given another split second would indeed have forcefully shoved her over the edge and into another unwanted, unbearably feminine climax.

All her action did, though, was delay the inevitable, as Jonah's possessed body had no intention of giving her any time to recover. The pressure had only truly abated, she realized, because he had already been pulling back, and her body rocked beneath him as he humped rapidly inside her three more times. The first, though, was really all it took, and the second and third were her screaming at the sensation of her overwhelmed nub throbbing in strange, feminine agony as the knot mashed it into the surrounding flesh. Then it was her own body that began to buck, in that now-familiar, throbbing rhythm, ecstatic warmth flowing through her unbidden as her insides pulsed automatically and relentlessly along his length. She tried to bite her tongue, but to no avail; her tremulous, barking moans escaped nonetheless, warbling out in time with each throb that wracked her climaxing form, quickly leaving her once again smothered in that intense, relaxing warmth that forced her frustratingly quiescent beneath him. All she could do was gasp desperately to recover her breath, even as her insides continued to rapidly shiver along the imposing length of Jonah's cock, coaxing him to release a few more spurts of warmth inside her. And then, once again, it was back to the horrible waiting, feeling the weight of Jonah unwanted atop her, feeling his cock molding her insides to conform around it, feeling her body twitch and shudder as the demon repeatedly pressed Jonah's muzzle against the sensitive spot on her neck that her heat had made absolutely irresistible and knowing that the demon was probably loving every little reaction it could manage to elicit from her unwilling mind and depressingly far-too-willing body. It had proved its point, in overwhelming, humiliating fashion, and was now all but rubbing her nose in it.

The demon stayed hilted inside her until the knot and most of the erection had completely subsided, humping her vigorously back into submission the few times she attempted to struggle or even shift at all beneath him. By the time he pulled out, she was a limp, shivering mess, able to do little more than pull in gasping, desperate breaths and hope that it was over. She didn't know what the demon's capabilities were, but it was still using Jonah's body, which certainly didn't have unlimited stamina. Unfortunately, though, she learned soon enough that it wasn't depleted yet, as the demon hadn't seen fit to move Jonah's hips from their position on top of her. She could feel him swelling again, his shaft stretching out along the sodden mat of fur plastered against her upper thigh, trying to will her body to do something, anything, to resist as its inevitable expansion continued, but all she could manage was to whine weakly and shiver a little beneath him. Worst of all, her stupid, heated body was somehow actually still responding to the sensation of his approaching readiness, and as his erect shaft pulled back from her thigh and slid the tip closer to her overstretched spade, she felt a flush of wet warmth blossoming out from it nonetheless. Then the tip speared the center of it and rammed in hard, her body providing no resistance whatsoever, the demon forcing more yips and moans from her muzzle as he used his weight to hold her down and take her barely resisting body even more effortlessly than before. The knotting was somehow even more perfunctory this time, if that was even possible, and the demon didn't bother to do anything special, just pressing as hard as he could into her straining insides until his knot left her inevitably weak, passive and throbbing, letting her body coax Jonah's into pooling even more sticky cum to add to the mess already inside her.

There was no escape. Even at full strength, her female form would never have been able to overpower Jonah's in a fair fight, and in the state her body was in after being already repeatedly fucked into submission, it was hard enough to lift her head or move her limbs, let alone effectively fight back. Whether the demon was actually right about history and evolution or not, it seemed to know exactly how to abuse the vulnerabilities of her female body to keep her unable to provide even token resistance. It wasn't overconfident enough, though, to ever let her up, or put up any obstacles between her body and its demonic lust. It kept Jonah's body on top of her the entire time, keeping his hips pressed down hard on her butt when she was on her stomach, and firmly between her thighs when she was on her back, hooking his feet around her ankles and splaying her legs back apart any time she even tried to close them. When it pulled out, it only waited just as long as necessary for Jonah's cock to get hard again before ramming it back inside her, which meant that she only got a respite of a minute or two between the time that her empty spade stopped twitching from the last round and when Jonah's possessed tip splayed it roughly open again. His presence was oppressively constant, and as awful as it was with her face pressed into the pillow and his weight on top of her, it was even more unsettling when he took her on her back - seeing Jonah's face contorted into a bestial sneer, eyes flaring red in front of her face, hearing familiar grunts and breaths distorted and tainted by the demon's presence. It was a horrible disjunct, someone so familiar against and inside her, but at the same time, someone so horribly, violently different, one of her best friends twisted into a form that saw her as little more than something to be used and dominated as roughly and mercilessly as it could.

As it went on and on, the depth of her humiliation deepened with each savage thrust and ruthless knotting, as the indomitable will and cherished control of Giancarlo wavered and melted against the vulnerability of her female form and the willingness of a man, demonically possessed or not, to take advantage of it. And the worst part was, as horrific as it seemed to her conscious mind, her heated body and hormonal thoughts were more than willing to play along, even if the initial desperation of it had long been chased away. Every time he entered her, her body was still wet and ready, still thrilled at the feeling of him against her, still felt blissful comfort at each thrust, and still came eagerly and happily every time the knot popped firmly into place inside her and stretched her in just the right ways to assure an easy and effortless climax. It was the enjoyment, in fact, that made it truly horrible, because even though she knew deep down that it wasn't true, that it was just hormones and instincts, she couldn't help but feel that her body had betrayed her, and that she was somehow now complicit in her own victimization, forced to thrill at her own tortured vulnerability. She couldn't even cry, even if she'd wanted to, because despite everything else, her heat was being well taken care of, and the relief was enough to override her other emotions. And yet, despite it all, in that one desperate corner of her mind, the frustration and rage at being victimized was building, and even as she ground her teeth together to deny the demon as much satisfaction as she could, every thrust, every knotting, served as more fuel to her core of determination. Somehow, she would make it through even this torturous humiliation. And somehow, some way, she would make the boneheap pay many times over for it. Maybe the stupid demon hadn't figured out how to fuck the thing, but once Giancarlo regained his manhood, he would find a way. Heck, he'd make one if he had to. Each time she tried to muster up that core of revenge, though, it only lasted for a moment, before her determination melted away into a heat-muddled haze as the knot slammed in again, reducing her once more to trembling, cum-filled vulnerability.

Finally, depressingly, after far too many times, it was over. The demon rolled Jonah's gasping, panting, overextended body off to lay weakly prone beside her. Before leaving entirely, though, the demon managed to force his body into enough composure to provide its parting rejoinder.

"Well, it's been fun, I must say. However, as I've used this sorry gentleman up to the full extent of his stamina, I suppose I'll be going now. Do remember what I said, though - ironically, it might in fact be the complete and submissive acceptance of your inherent weakness that actually gets the delightful chap you seem to call the boneheap off your back. Oh, and speaking of that irksome bastard, I would ask you to tell it hello from me, but for a few things: I doubt you would be able to pronounce my proper name, we're not exactly on speaking terms, and I'm quite sure it knows by now anyway. In fact, I'd dearly love to give the meddlesome thing a good, solid raping like the one I've imposed on you, except for the fact I still can't figure out if it even has any orifices to put something in. For that matter, if I'd really thought on it, once I knew who had set up the curse I probably should have ignored the invitation and passed you up purely out of spite. Ah, but the situation was simply to delicious to ignore, so... here we are. Unlike my chaotic colleague, though, I can well appreciate the delicious moral justice of your current and probably well-deserved downfall..."

The demon paused, as though something had just occurred to him, and the result managed to contort Jonah's features into a particularly evil grin. "You know, I had planned on just leaving your paramour's mind characteristically blank, as for such possessions it's actually the easiest thing to do. How could I deny him the experience of discovering just how easily you can be dominated, though? Of course, I imagine that won't be the lesson he takes away from it, being the depressingly half-decent guy that he actually is, which does open up so very many questions as to how he ever became friends with a reprobate such as you... but I suppose we'll leave that question for now, as I really must depart before my hold on him wavers too much. Don't worry, though - he won't remember me or our meddlesome mutual friend. No, all he'll remember is how it felt to force himself into you, over and over and over, for him to explore through the mirror of his own arbitrary morals. As I said before, though, I am a demon after all - no reason to see only you suffer when I can get two for the price of one. And so, Giancarlo, I bid the two of you farewell, and hope that your new form brings you ever more deliciously abject humiliation in the future."

And with that parting shot, the demon was gone, the glowing red aura fading from Jonah's eyes as his face went blank, and then seemed to relax for a moment as his eyes closed and he lapsed into unconsciousness. Gianna had half a mind to try and make a break for it, just in case the demon decided to come back for seconds, but at the same time, she did want to make sure Jonah was actually all right. After all, she couldn't fault him for falling victim to yet another wrinkle in the boneheap's twisted scheme, even if it was hard to deny everything that his body had done to her, voluntarily or not. Regardless, those same actions had left her a trembling, exhausted mess who could barely lift her head off of the pillow, so an escape probably would not have gotten very far. Better, then, to spend the time recovering her strength, getting her head past what had happened as much as she could, and trying to figure out how the hell she was going to deal with Jonah when he woke back up.

He did, after a while, pawing confusedly at his eyes before looking over at her. "Whuh... oh, hey, you're still here..."

He trailed off, though, freezing in place, his face suddenly transformed into a look of horrified guilt as he woke up sufficiently for the memories the demon had left behind to flood back into his consciousness.

"Oh, shit... Oh, my god... I, I couldn't, I didn't..." He looked over at her, at her mussed fur, still-splayed legs and the mess at their very center, his face falling even further as her state confirmed the memories that he couldn't believe he had. "Gianna, I... I'm so, so, sorry-"

"Shut up, Jonah," she said sharply. Better to head it off before things got even more complicated.

"But I, I lost control, even after everything I said, after how I promised to be, I, I-"

"Seriously, Jonah. Shut. UP."

He looked at her, wide-eyed and ears dropping with guilt, but managed to be quiet.

"Look, here's how it is. How it has to be. What went on between us, tonight... it's not your fault. It's not my fault. It's a, a fucking force of nature, something that just happened to both of us, and now it's over. There's not anything worth talking about, okay? So let me make one thing clear. I'm going to drop this. I'm not going to hold it against you, personally, as much as I can. But - and you need to be really clear on this - what happened tonight doesn't happen again, ever. Yes, you're big and male. Yes, you can technically overpower me. But right now, you're sitting on a bed, completely exhausted. Not particularly capable of doing much of anything. If you do this to me again, you're going to be in the same state, which means that you won't be able to stop me from going into your kitchen, heating up one of your knives on the stove until it's glowing red, and turning you into a eunuch, bloodily and by hand. Which, believe me, I will do, without hesitation, if you ever get the idea to do something like this to me ever again. Got it?"

Jonah just nodded his head silently, although his hands had already reached down unconsciously to cover the part of him that, perhaps ironically, felt all of a sudden oh so vulnerable. Of course, Gianna knew that she could appreciate the irony in a different manner, as there were probably any number of women who probably wished they'd been able to do the same to Giancarlo. If they only knew just what fate had befallen him...

Well, nothing to be done for that now. All she could do at the moment was to pull herself together the rest of the way, keep whatever control she was capable of regaining at that point, and extricate herself before things got any more awkward or Jonah decided to do anything stupid. She grabbed a corner of the sheet, using it to wipe away the worst of what lurked between her legs, and got up to track down the inadequate bits of her clothing, trying her best to keep her trembling body under control - the only way she knew how to get through the current mess intact was to assert her own dominance, and that required her to keep from betraying any signs of weakness.

She tracked down her panties, grimacing at the sodden mess before dropping it back down onto the floor. She grabbed her purse, which had ended up tossed into the opposite corner, and looked inside, instantly regretting not having paid more attention to what she'd grabbed before she left. The few panties she'd shoved inside were of the especially feminine variety, super pink with frills and lacy leg openings and lengths of ribbon tied into little bows on the sides in lieu of a complete, proper waistband. Still, they were better than her previous pair or going without, so she pulled one of them on regardless, even as it started its inevitable journey towards becoming a sticky, sodden mess from the moment the fabric stretched tautly into place against her spade. Squirming again at the feeling, and aggravated by the fact that even after all that had happened her body was still finding ways to be sensitive and aroused, she tried to put on her most determined face as she turned back to Jonah. She knew just how much she had to take control of the situation, and the window for that would quickly close if she didn't keep a lid on things.

"I don't think I need to mention that this all stays between us. This doesn't get mentioned to your guy friends, or our coworkers, or you family, no one at all. As far as they're concerned, we both stayed in our own places tonight, and none of this ever happened. And yeah, I know we've gotta talk more, sort some shit out, but we don't talk about this, either. It's just... done. You want to feel guilty? Fine. You want to do something for me to make up for it? I don't really care, but if you want to, that's up to you. As far as this night is concerned, though, I just want to forget about it, and that's a whole lot easier to do if you shut up and pretend it didn't happen."

She settled her miniskirt back into place, then tugged her bra and abbreviated blouse back on before fixing him with a powerful, determined stare. "Despite all this, you're still about the only guy I can consider a friend right now, so do whatever it takes, but I need you to pull yourself together. For me. Okay?"

He shrank back from her gaze, uncharacteristically looking like he was almost on the verge of tears. "Even after all this, after what I did to you, you still think I'm your, your... friend?"

"Gonna be honest with you. The sex? Probably done. For a while, at least, because I just... can't deal with you like that right now, not after what happened, and fault or not, I'm sure you understand why. But you're still my boss, and yes, my friend. And right now, I kinda need some people who are unquestionably on my side. You can think about this however you want, but knowing how you probably want to make this right, maybe you should just think of it as a debt or something. And you repay that debt by being the most loyal, most supportive friend you could possibly be."

Jonah nodded with an expression of sober, earnest desperation. "Yes, I... Of course I will. I swear I'll make up for, for all of it, no matter how long it takes, even if it kills me. What I did, losing control, doing what I did to you, it's, it's evil, it's unconscionable, it's-"

"And what's the first rule of all this?"

"Huh?"

"Not talking about what happened?"

"Oh... right. Seriously, though, I... I don't know what's been going on with me the last couple of days. This isn't like me, not at all... but I know that's no excuse. I screwed up, bad, and whatever it takes, I will do right by you. Just tell me what you need me to do."

"Well... right now, I'm going to leave. Just... lay there, go to sleep, whatever. Don't call me, don't call anyone else, don't contemplate suicide or do anything stupid. When you come into work tomorrow, act like everything is fucking normal. We'll figure the rest of it out later, but for now... nothing but normal, okay?"

"Okay..."

"All right. I'll see you tomorrow. And seriously... don't call me."

She walked down the hallway and out of Jonah's house, closing the door carefully behind her before making her way down the sidewalk, feeling her legs waver less and less with each step. She stormed down the pavement, past her car, letting the feelings swirling through her build and bubble and boil off into the cool night air. Typically, more than anything else, more that the humiliation of her body's betrayal or the disgust at the copious amounts of male goop still sloshing around her insides, she felt a snarling, impotent rage that dug into her chest and wouldn't let go. Once again, another awful experience, a full night of the most pathetic, humiliatingly feminine things that could possibly have happened, brought to her entirely through the hideous machinations of that goddamned boneheap. Glaring into the darkness, she snarled her rage out into the empty gloom. "You fucking son of a bitch... I know you're out there, watching me, laughing at me. I know this is all your fault. So unless you're too cowardly to do even that, why don't you fucking show yourself already?"

Unsurprisingly, a moment later, a shape began to coalesce nearby, just close enough for the edge of a streetlamp's glowing pool of light to reveal the boneheap's shape in half-obscured, contrasting shadows.

"fascinating day. not over yet. already thirTy-one points. enjoyed each one."

Gianna glowered at the thing's shadowy visage. "Yeah, thanks to you arranging for me to be repeatedly raped by a goddamned demon, using the body of the one guy I actually gave a shit about. For someone who claims to be all about observing my choices, you can't even seem to go a day or two without stacking the deck in the most agonizing way possible, can you?"

"incorrect assumption. no direct invoLvement in possession. would not have invited, regardless. demon in question clueless philistine. disreSpects quality of intrigue. situation direct consequEnce resulting from hidden rule of game. congratulations on discovering."

"Hidden rule? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"created game rule after firSt night. fascinated by intricacy of lies told. creativity impressive, as was effect. lies escaped sexual contact, creaTed intriguing new scenarios. so, made slight addition to sex curse. tell lie about something seXual, lie actually happens. not immediately. at some point. lie, told to dRiver on first night as woman. tonight, came true. more choiCes, more consequences. game more interesting already."

Gianna ground her teeth together, seething. Of course the fucking boneheap would have to find some way to further undermine her. Slowly but surely, it was chipping away at everything she'd successfully used to avoid the contact that she'd been able to. Both a knife and an elaborate lie had brought her home safely on her first night transformed, and the boneheap had done something to both those skills to make both of them work against her. Now she couldn't even lie without it coming back to bite her in the ass, maybe even literally.

"This... this is ridiculous!" she sputtered. "What the hell kind of game is this if you can just make stuff up any time you want and then slap me with it whenever you want to make me suffer? Yeah, I get it, the game isn't fair, and deep down it's rigged. But if you're going to make it so that I can't even resist at all, then what's even the point? You make a game impossible, even the toughest son of a bitch ever, even a devoted fucking masochist is gonna give up sooner or later. Do you want to have a real contest here or not?"

The boneheap paused again, waving its bony arm about in the air seemingly aimlessly. "correct. game rigged. some contact unavoidable, especially in heat. some avoidable by action or choice. only one hidden rule, though. now revealed. all further rules diSclosed before taking effect. however, appreciated entertainment today. so, will award one fair contest."

The boneheap's arm whipped up, and something whirled through the air at Gianna. She reached out instinctively to block it, and felt something cold and metallic slap into the palm of her hand. Bringing it back up, the light revealed what seemed to be an ordinary copper penny, with no obvious tricks; one side heads, one side tails.

"simple enough. flip coin. let land on sidewalk. no maNipulation. just physics, gravity. heads, twenty exTra points. free, no consequences. tails, next lie scenario begins now. or, tuck coin in skirt and do not play. make choice."

Gianna glared back at the boneheap, trying to figure out how fair it was actually willing to be. After all, the thing didn't exactly seem to have much of anything that resembled a traditional morality. About the only true structure to its behavior was the game it had invented for Gianna to play - and with that, at least, it was becoming more and more straightforward. In fact, when it came to that, she didn't think that the thing had actually lied, precisely - omitted things, perhaps, but had otherwise been clear. Heck, it admitted outright that the things was rigged. And the coin in her hand really did seem to be just a coin. Whenever else the boneheap had done something unnatural, there'd been an aura, or electricity, or something, but the air was a dead calm, the coin was cold and quiet, and nothing seemed to be going on that might make her fur stand on end. So... the contest was probably fair, but then again, it was still part of the boneheap's awful game. Still, twenty points meant five fewer times she'd have to be knotted before the whole mess was behind her.

Ultimately, though, it wasn't the promise of points that made her hook her thumb underneath the coin and send it spinning up into the night air. It was the fact that the boneheap had just had its greatest victory to date, and she wanted to even the score at least a little, and to see the reaction on the horrible thing's not-quite-face when she racked up another victory. Maybe it was stupid, maybe it was impulsive, but her rage and desire for revenge saw it through.

The coin flipped end over end, glinting slightly in the diffuse light before clattering down onto the sidewalk, clinking about a couple of times before finally coming to rest.

Gianna glanced down at it, and there was enough ambient light to make out which side had landed up. Tails. Shit.

"If I find out you rigged this, motherfucker, I am going to make you pay. Hell, I'm gonna make you pay anyway, but you promised this would be fair, and if you screwed me on this too, your suffering is gonna be fucking legendary. I don't know how yet, but I will find a way."

"am already paying. irreleVant. however, decided on consolation prize. points inflicted duRing next encounter doubled. will begin shortly. eagerly anticiPating results."

And with that, the boneheap was gone once again. Interestingly, though, it didn't just fade away this time, but seemed to suddenly lurch just before it seemed to instantaneously blink out of the picture. For a moment, Gianna wondered why, but she quickly snapped out of it when she suddenly heard footsteps behind her. Far, far too close behind her.

She whirled around, and there were two of them, nearly close enough to touch: canines, kinda jock-looking, casually dressed, and at least partially drunk. The one on the left, sort of german-shepherd-looking, was at least half a head taller than she was, and the one on the right, half-retriever and half something else that had left his fur a muddy sort of brown, was taller by maybe a couple of inches. Both of them were a few years younger than Gianna, maybe a semester away from graduating college, and while they were a little better built than average, they weren't much compared to Jonah. Heck, Giancarlo probably could have taken on both of them, knocked their heads together and sent them sniveling on their way. Giancarlo, though, was long gone now, and Gianna knew that in her current form, especially after what she'd just been through, she'd be no match for them.

They, of course, made no attempt whatsoever to disguise their interest in her. Which was hardly surprising, she thought, realizing with dread what she was still wearing: tight mini-skirt that disguised absolutely nothing and so short that her spade, nestled into her ridiculous bright pink panties, stuck out clearly underneath, and if that wasn't enough you could add in the top that showed off way too much cleavage. While what she was wearing hadn't seemed to matter that much when she'd left the house, that rash decision was rearing its ugly head - whether she actually was or not, for all intense and purposes she looked like some slut who'd just been out all night partying, and that was surely what the men in front of her were seeing. Add in the unmistakable scent of her heat, which was still surely all over her, and the impression was complete. Sure enough, their jeans were already noticeably tented, probably just from looking at her as they'd walked up from behind. After all, she knew full well how Giancarlo would react upon seeing a sight like that, and what that would spur him to do - and if it had been Giancarlo, how she would already be pushed into that little alcove between the tall hedges in the yard of the next house down, one strong hand clamped tightly around her muzzle while the other gripped hard on her hip to hold her in place, her panties tugged down around her thighs and her spade hammered relentlessly with a rapid, unyielding canine ferocity... as horrible as such a notion was in her current form, she realized with revulsion that the brief, imagined snapshot had already flushed a layer of new warmth across her spade and caused it to strain against her panties with a disturbing eagerness. Please, she thought, let that arousal be from how it was to be Giancarlo, not from the notion of being taken by someone like him...

She snapped out of it, glaring at the one on the left as he waved his hand in front of her face, and furious at her heated mind for drifting so much in such a precarious situation. This, if any, was the time when she needed to be focused, to be tactical, but even if the overwhelming need of heat had dissipated for now, some of the other troubling side effects were still present. Just the scent of them, so close, even masked by the scent of alcohol and the stupid macho cologne that guys cluelessly thought women were into, was enough to make it hard to think quite clearly, and that didn't even mention how certain other parts were feeling far bothered in a way that she absolutely didn't want them to.

"Damn, dude, she's kinda out of it, isn't she?" he said, his words not exactly slurred, but not precisely clear, either.

"Well, duh," the other one replied, gesturing towards her, his hand pointing at a part of her too low for comfort. "She's totally in heat, man, or are you so fuckin' drunk you can't even smell? Pro'lly just preoccupied thinkin' about how much fun she's gonna have with us..."

"Yeah, that so?" The shepherd-guy looked over at her, seeming like he was trying especially hard to focus on her face. "Hey girl, what's your name? You lookin' for a party? 'Cause we've got a party right here, just the three of us..." He bucked his hips forward a couple of times for emphasis.

Gianna seethed. Really? Those assholes actually thought that shit worked on anyone, even a woman heated out of her mind? Not only, given the boneheap, were they probably there to rape her, they couldn't even give her the courtesy of just doing whatever they were going to do. Well, at the very least, it gave her some options, although none that were great. Thanks to her enraged little walk, her car was several blocks away, and she doubted her ability to outrun them in her current state - and especially with canines, running away from them often brought on a certain instinctual state. If she ran, they would chase, and then pounce - and once she was on the ground, in their power, there was little doubt about what they would do. She could try to fight, but that would probably go even worse, and even if she could find where the knife had gotten to underneath the wad of panties in her purse, whatever the boneheap had done to her would probably have made it ineffective. And, of course, there was the third especially depressing but relentlessly logical option - she could just let them drag her somewhere secluded, put it in, and then go. After all, the reasoning went, it couldn't be any worse than what she'd already gone through, with strangers she didn't care about who would probably be considerably less rough and merciless. Her body was certainly prepared for that option, as disgusting as it was, but Gianna only considered it for a second before the rest of her mind recoiled in revulsion. There was no way she would just... give in like that, no matter what. Even if the end result might be the same, to give in would be to all but accept what the boneheap seemingly wanted her to be. No, ineffective or not, she wasn't going to just give up. And besides, if she showed these assholes who they were messing with, maybe they'd back down - the one on the left, especially seemed to be acting overconfident, so he was probably the least secure in his own dominance. That was why she stared right at him, trying to bore her gaze into his skull, as she spoke with all the determination she could muster.

"No, I don't want to party. I don't want anything to do with either of you. I don't know you, I don't want to know you. Got it?"

The shepherd actually seemed to get the message, though it took a few seconds for it to sink in, but the mutt, the one she should have been paying attention to, had other ideas. "Hey now, girl," he said, grinning like he was actually enjoying her attitude. "You don't gotta be like that. 'Specially since we got what you need. Your panties ain't soaked for nothing."

"Hey, jackass, what part of fuck off don't you understand?"

She tried to get in a few other choice words for emphasis, but he started talking over her like she wasn't speaking at all.

"Yeah, whatever, I get it, you gotta save face with your boyfriend or something, be able to tell him you didn't want to, even though it ain't true. We both know how this is gonna go, and there's no sense fighting yourself when you're gonna give in to what you want, anyway."

"B-bullshit!" she said, pissed that her body wasn't exactly selling it, pissed that her voice came out huskier than it should have, more hesitant, more... obviously heated.

"C'mon, now. Tell me this doesn't get you going." As he said it, his arm whipped out, his grip not as strong as Jonah's but more than enough to grab tightly onto her wrist and jerk her arm abruptly towards him. She stumbled forward, desperately trying to regain her balance, but she was already so close that she thudded into his chest before she could stabilize herself. That's when she felt his other hand press into the small of her back, holding her against him, smelling the stink of alcohol on his breath a moment before his muzzle mashed against hers. Even as his tongue flicked wetly across her own, trying to coax her mouth open, she felt his hips rock purposefully forward and up, his protruding bulge suddenly pressing in tightly against her panties and the yielding spade beneath. She felt it squish and squelch as his bulge rocked against her, and suddenly it seemed to be flooding anew, sopping her panties even more thoroughly. Worse, even that subtle motion against her sensitive spade was enough to get her thighs trembling, and enough to coax a a light moan out of her chest, cracking her muzzle open enough for the man's tongue to gain purchase. It flicked inside, rubbing clumsily against her own, hot and wet and gross but still disturbingly stimulating nonetheless. After a moment, it flicked out again, leaving a taste in her mouth that she desperately wanted to spit out. Before she could even consider spitting in the man's face, though, the hand on her back was moving down, sliding along her miniskirt before his fingers wrapped around a good handful of her butt and squeezed, hard. It wasn't that arousing - in fact, it kind of hurt - but the other hand that quickly grabbed onto her breast, mashing the palm against silhouette of her heat-swollen nipple, made her body flush in exactly the worst way.

It was the perfect blend of disgusting and horrifyingly arousing, and the heat was already making her resolve weaken. It took a concerted effort to get both hands onto his chest and shove him back off of her when he tried to shift his grasp again. The move caused both of them to stumble back a couple of steps, and even in the dim light, Gianna could see, to her disgust, the slick sheen that now coated the crotch of the guy's pants. Even worse, instead of looking discouraged or even ticked, the guy was grinning, like he thought she was just playing with him. The other guy, the shepherd, didn't look so sure, glancing between the two of them, but even he was pawing at his crotch, seemingly enjoying the show. And the mutt, for that matter, certainly hadn't missed the most salient part, reaching down to get some of her deposited slickness onto his fingers, and then exaggerating the motion of licking them clean with his tongue.

"Oh, yeah, this bitch is definitely ready. Huh, wonder why it tastes kinda salty, though..."

While the other guy looked askance at that, realizing it didn't sound right, it didn't do much to dissuade the mutt. Neither did the defiant face she was trying to put on, not when the evidence of her state was right there for all of them to see. Even though she tried to look in control, her legs were still wavering, and when she tried to talk, the few syllables she got out were so husky, so obviously tainted with breathy arousal, that she clamped her muzzle shut rather than trying to continue. Shit! What was she supposed to do now?

"Alright, enough playin'. We got what she needs, and it's time to give it to her."

"Uh, dude, that sounds kinda-"

"Sounds kinda what? You gonna deny you got a hard-on? Fuck, once I finish gettin' her ready, you can go first if you want. Don't mind sloppy seconds if I get to watch first."

The shepherd glanced over at him. "You want to watch me?"

"Not you, dumbass. Her. Think about it."

"Oh, yeah..."

Gianna had used the exchange to try and back away, try to figure out how to slip back into the shadows, but her trembling legs didn't let her get nearly far enough. The mutt's hand whipped out again, latching on hard around her wrist and dragging her along with him down the sidewalk. She tried to pull against him, to try and hold back, but his strength pulled her forward, and the only way to keep her balance and avoid falling on her face was to follow along with him.

The mutt had apparently seen the same thing that she had, as moments later she was being swung around and shoved backward, stumbling a couple of steps before being stopped where the two hedges came together to form the alcove, feeling the vegetation pressing in against her back. She looked up to see the two of them in front of her, shadowy as they blocked out most of the ambient light, taking up the entire space in front of the alcove and blocking any chance she might have had of escape. She made one last, desperate fumble towards her purse, shoving her hand inside in some vain hope of trying to fight back, but the mutt's hands were already sliding up along her hips, shoving her miniskirt up until the fabric was bunched around her waist.

"Damn... this girl really is ready for action. Side-tie panties and everything." There was a quick, gentle tug to each side, and then the tension of the panties around her waist faded as the sides unraveled and the fabric started to fall away, only staying partially in place because of how the crotch of them was still stuck to her spade. Then a quick tug on the front caused them to fall away entirely, and there was nothing left between her and the two drunk, horny men.

"S... Sto..." she tried to get out, but her body was filled with so many conflicting, panicking signals that she couldn't seem to get the word out all the way, and the one hand she had on the guy's chest seemed to be too weak to do anything but rest there. Her other hand continued to rustle in her purse, but all she could feel was the soft fabric of more panties rustling against her fingers, and even that hand froze when she felt the man's fingers probing roughly against her spade. One of them quickly found the center, then another, nudging the pads of it apart and shoving inside.

Unsurprisingly, following on from what she'd realized before, in her current state she couldn't really feel much of the man's fingers inside of her, certainly nothing all that stimulating beyond the feel of the rest of his hand against her spade. What it did do, though, was spread her open more, and as it did she could feel something else shifting inside her, something that there were still copious amount of, glooping slowly but steadily down inside her until they reached just low enough...

"Wha... what the fuck?" the guy yelped, yanking his fingers back and looking in shock at the glob of stickiness that sat between them, white and clearly cum even in that dim light. Without the intrusion, Gianna felt her spade slowly returning to its heated form of normal, but not before a good amount of Jonah's accumulated cum dripped down from the spade's center, creating a sizable pool of the stuff between her legs. She looked down at it in disgust, surprised that it amounted to that much and just how much more was still trapped inside her, but she still apparently wasn't as disgusted as the two guys, who both took an abrupt step back.

"H-holy shit, that's a lot of cum... What did... what did you..."

Despite everything, Gianna actually managed a vicious, vengeful grin, suddenly not even caring how her voice sounded as she spoke. "Yeah, shithead, you're not exactly the first sick fuck I've been raped by tonight."

"R-rape?" the shepherd said, suddenly looking absolutely terrified. "We weren't gonna... were we? Y-you wanted it, right?"

"How, exactly, did me telling you to fuck off repeatedly sound like I wanted it?"

"But I... I'm not a rapist... I just, uh, wanted to have some fun, you know?"

The shepherd looked like he was getting ready to bolt, but his friend still had his hand up in front of him, cum still globbed all over it, looking almost like he was going to be sick.

"Guhh... jeez, I mean seconds is one thing, but there's no way I'd do sloppy sevenths... like sticking my dick in a barrel of other guys' cum..." He flailed about with his hand, his eyes looking slightly panicked, before abruptly reaching out and wiping his hand off on Gianna's blouse. 'Shit... what kinda skanky bitch are you?"

The shepherd looked at him strangely. "Dude, she just said she got raped... and we..."

"Shit. SHIT!" The mutt's eyes darted back and forth, to his friend, to her sullied panties, to her still-dripping spade and his own sodden crotch, probably realizing that some of what was on it was actually someone else's seed. "We didn't do nothin', okay? A-and there ain't no DNA we put on you, so there's no point in calling the cops, right?"

"Actually, there's plenty of DNA on you," she said, gesturing at his crotch. "Well, maybe not mine - dunno if female juices have any. Definitely someone's, though. Heck, if the cops did somehow show up, they'll probably just figure he raped you too."

The mutt goggled at her, completely flustered. "F-fuck you!" he finally said, practically shaking, but instead of trying anything else, he grabbed his friend by the arm and pulled him off to the side, and suddenly the way out of the alcove was clear.

Gianna leaned her head out, watching as the two of them bolted down the sidewalk and out of sight, not even bothering to look back. "Yeah, like either one of you could," she muttered under her breath. The fact of the matter was, though, that not only could they have, they very nearly did - if the mutt's probing hadn't encountered what it did, or if he'd just shoved his cock in first, she'd probably be sitting on the ground and shuddering around at least two more loads inside her. Still, the situation was so crazy that she couldn't help but lean back against the hedge and laugh crazily up into the night air. She'd actually managed to beat the boneheap again, even if it was in the most ironically perverse way. Saving herself from getting raped by the simple fact of having already been raped full of cum... as hideous as it was, though, it was still a win, and seeing the look on their faces had been worth it, a little bit, even if it wasn't nearly enough to outweigh everything else.

Of course, that everything else was rather big, and it was all she could do to stay on point and keep herself from wallowing in it. Not to mention she was still vulnerable and basically naked, from the waist down at least. She glanced down, took in her disassembled panties ground into the mud, and decided to just leave the things there - after all, while her knife was who knows where, there was something she definitely had spares of. She hastily grabbed a pair from her purse and pulled them on, snugging the miniskirt down over them before tugging down on the entire thing until its waistband, strained to the breaking point, rested along the top of her hips rather than her waist. It wasn't particularly comfortable, but it was worth it to be able to pull the things down far enough to hide her panties entirely, if just barely. It only took a couple of steps, though before the panties at least were stickily coated again, but there wasn't much she could do about that. There was only one thing, really, that was important at the moment: getting back to her car, getting inside it, getting back home and locking the door behind her before any other guy came within scent range. As eager as her psychotic spade still apparently was, she'd had more than enough of it being prodded for one night - heck, for a year, or a decade. Or ever, if she'd never met the boneheap and had stayed a guy. Thinking about Giancarlo, though, for the first time seemed to bring with it a palpable sense of disgust. If this is how girls had felt after he'd spent time with him, if it was now time to revisit every indignity he had inflicted upon her own newly vulnerable body... no, best not to think about that. It counted as wallowing, and doing so wouldn't bring the car any closer.

She stomped back down the sidewalk, her legs slowly returning to their normal stability, and by the time she plunked down in the driver's seat, there was at least the slightest sense that things were returning to normal, as fucked up as that normal now was. The drive home, at least, was smooth enough, and and when she got back, door slamming safely shut behind her, she secured every single lock on the thing, and jammed a chair under the doorknob for good measure. Safe, at least, but there was still one more humiliation she had to take care of. Stripping off the skirt, she stomped into the bathroom, tugging at the ties of the panties and pulling them off from between her legs - at least in that sense, they were convenient, albeit for exactly the wrong reasons. Then she sat down on the seat, rested her fingers on the pads of her spade and pressed on them enough to shove them somewhat apart, and waited as Jonah's copious deposits slowly dripped out of her. It was disgusting, feeling the stuff sliding down inside her and oozing across the inner edges of her spade, droplets hanging there before they plopped down into the water. Awful as it was, though, it was a hell of a lot better than trying to fall asleep while feeling that stuff just pooling inside her, a constant reminder of what had happened, and how her lack of control had once again left her helpless against violation.

The helpless feeling, though, didn't last, and for that matter, there wasn't really any impulse that might have been expected from someone dealing with that. She didn't want to cry, or feel sorry for herself. All she felt was rage about being forced into such a helpless place, impotent though it might have been, and by the time the stuff had just about finished dripping out of her, she was in enough of a mood that she would have been able to happily and brutally murder anyone foolish enough to try and come through her door.

She stormed into her bedroom, her mind suddenly flashing on the clothing sets the boneheap had left before. She dug them purposefully out, pants and all, and glared at them as they sat in a heap on her bed. That was the thing, wasn't it? This game, this fucking game it was playing with her... it was clear enough now that it wasn't really about points or contests or whatever the boneheap had been blathering about. It was about control, and most of all, perspective. The boneheap wanted her on the run, on the defensive, on the receiving end of things. And for all that claimed animosity, the demon's calm little evolutionary diatribe hadn't just been a random history lesson. It was psychological warfare, really, the whole thing was, in its rawest, crudest form. All of it, the whole evening probably, seemed practically designed to get her thinking like a woman, to get a particular female perspective lodged in her head, to bend her mindset into that of a victim, without any control over her body or circumstances - the polar opposite of Giancarlo. The thing was, in fact, actually trying to break her, to slowly and inexorably turn her into the pathetic female plaything that the boneheap seemed to be looking for.

And that, of course, was the real endgame it was planning, wasn't it? 500 points equalled 125 knottings, over a hundred periods of supreme vulnerability where her submissive femininity was maximized, where she'd have to come to terms with it over and over and over again, of her body giving in against the will of her mind, and each time it would be harder to recover, harder to keep her male predatory mindset and harder to avoid one of prey instead.

The boneheap had probably picked that number, in fact, because it was sure that Gianna couldn't reach it before the damage to her psyche became permanent, before she became so accustomed to the circumstances of her new situation that it would be all but impossible to go back to her old way of thinking. That, above all else, was what the thing had meant when it had said the game was rigged - not that she would have sex, or be raped, but what all of it, cumulatively, would inevitably do to her. And really, it was that assumption, that arrogance, that infuriated her the most, but even then it wasn't hedging its bets. The girly set of underwear sitting crumpled on the bed attested to that. After all, it was hard not to think that, at least to some extent, the night had been intended as a cautionary tale of the true helplessness that awaited her in heat. That, in turn, made the out of avoidance all that more tempting; in fact, she wouldn't be surprised if, a little later, the boneheap decided to remove the consecutive-day limit on them and allow them to protect against heat indefinitely, as long as she accepted the consequences of wearing them each day. And, of course, those consequences were the most meaningful ones to its endgame, the ones most capable of breaking her, of subjugating her will.

Because that was the thing - as awful as the evening had been, ultimately it was just an unpleasant act that she had endured, temporarily defeated physically, but with her aggression and rage and urge to fight back mostly intact, even if her confidence in her physical safety had been significantly dented. Still, even if she hadn't been able to fight back, she'd still wanted to, and as long as she was willing to fight, to fight for who she really was, she still had a chance. And that, in turn, meant that any temptation from the boneheap towards giving up that will was exceedingly dangerous.

Plus, well, the boneheap was so obviously to blame for the entire situation - it had inflicted this body on her, subjected her to its dangerous urges, and then conspired to ruthlessly exploit it. And while she couldn't attack the boneheap outright, she could sure as hell get some satisfaction by wrecking its shit.

She grabbed the underwear sets, chomping down on them with her fangs and tearing at them with her claws. Whatever enchantments the boneheap had put on them evidently hadn't extended to strengthening the fabric, as they came apart just as readily as any others. In fact, tearing them apart gave her a little illicit thrill, as it reminded her, just for a moment, of the delicious feeling Giancarlo had experienced as he tore the last shred of fabric away from one of his victims, leaving her naked and vulnerable before him. Problem was, along with it came a flashback of her pressed against the hedge, panties falling into the mud next to her, and the cold night air against the exposed flesh of her spade, the horrible feeling of vulnerability she'd felt as the two men had loomed in front of her, eager to take advantage. Dammit! Even her fondest memories were being polluted by this, this... bullshit!

She finished shredding the underwear, until there was nothing left but confetti-like bits of fabric strewn across the bed, and had the pants in her hands, nearly ready to be ripped asunder, before she thought better of it. Regardless of her consequences, they were still the closest thing she had in terms of being able to dress like a man. Like it or not, the boneheap had, in fact, already infected her mind to a certain extent, at least as far as clothing was concerned - as annoying as it was, she realized it had only taken a couple of days of that particular curse wearing on her mind before she'd become completely used to and comfortable with wearing bras and panties, indeed actually feeling uncomfortable without their conforming embrace, and even wearing miniskirts and leggings had become second nature. In and of itself, though, that manipulation was even more telling with regard to the boneheap's plans - if it truly had the capability to mess so deeply with her mind, it could have just shifted her mind into "eager fuckslut" mode or whatever in the first place, and that it hadn't done so, that it had, in fact, invented this stupid game, meant that it really was trying to drive her there through this form of sick manipulation instead.

That, however, still gave her an advantage, if ever so slight. As much as it didn't want to admit the stakes, it had kept her personality and freedom intact, and even if it was just for the pleasure of breaking them down, it did mean that she could still take action, could still keep herself and her memories of Giancarlo together if she tried. And thanks to those things, she didn't have to react like a woman, at least not yet. She didn't have to sit there and wallow in her helplessness, blaming herself or heat or hormones or not saying no fast enough or whatever it was that women did to subjugate their own minds. She could be just as aggressive, just as, well, sociopathic, about being raped as Giancarlo had been about raping. So, feeling mostly rage, mostly the desire to inflict proportional pain and revenge after all was said and done, was a good thing. It was a strong, masculine reaction, and it meant that despite the weaknesses of her current form, her male spirit was still alive and well enough to fuel her reactions. If she could just keep that, despite the other feelings that her body saw fit to impose on her mind, she might just make it through after all. She'd prove the boneheap wrong, she'd show that bastard what she was really made of, and she would reach that final confrontation. And when she did, she'd make that fucking thing eat its impassive arrogance in spades.

She brushed the mess of fabric off of the bed, tracked down some underwear both to satisfy the nagging need for it and because she couldn't quite bear to have her spade all the way exposed, and rolled around on the bed until she was snugly wrapped up in the comforter. Then she lay still, knowing that her body desperately needed to rest, even as he mind continued to crank along in high gear. It was abundantly obvious that if she was going to win, if she was going to take on something that could arbitrarily throw new complications at her, that she would need a detailed, comprehensive plan that leveraged every single thing she could bring to bear, and probably exploit every single relationship that she had, in order to make it work. And it really might, especially as she knew that there would be some calmer days coming up, days when she would be able to begin hatching a plot of her own and setting things into motion.

Problem was, though, that was still a day away. Even though things were settled now, they probably wouldn't be tomorrow. Which meant that, horrible as it was to contemplate, she had a whole other day of heat to get through - and with Hugh still uncertain and Jonah all but intolerable for now, she had no idea how she was going to manage it. There had to be a way, though, there just had to be something clever enough to work - she just had to think of it. And so it was that she ended up instead on top of the comforter, using her tits as an impromptu tablet rest, as she searched pointedly across the internet looking for a miracle. There wasn't much, wasn't anything even close to perfect, but as she eventually drifted off to sleep despite the tablet's glow, she couldn't help thinking that there had to be some idea out there, somewhere. Then, just before she fell asleep, she belatedly realized that she might, just might, know someone with the best chance of having it...