Life after vacation

You return to what would appear, from an outsider's perspective, like a normal life for a young adult girl embarking on a college education. The rest of your summer passes by with the swiftness of sweltering California days. You and Christina hang out with old friends from high school and new friends from around the beach. You wear slightly less revealing bikinis to conceal your thick pubic hair.

Because, although you don't want to admit it, deep down you still have the desires of your doggy self. Soon you realize that Christina is having the same urges.

"I'm still ... sore," she says. "And my lips are still so swollen and wet. I want a cock in me so bad. It doesn't matter how much I finger myself; I'm no good until I get a good fucking from a guy."

"Me too. Fortunately daddy is helpful in that department these days. He says that he thinks our bodies got so used to the hormones from the collars that after they were removed our brains have kept producing them anyway."

"You mean ... we've trained ourselves into being in heat?"

You nod. "That's the theory anyway."

"Fuck, Ally. That's so bizarre. So is it ever going to wear off?"

You shrug, then lean in and kiss her, pushing her down into your firm mattress and ending the conversation.

So, though you have resumed human life, your sex drive remains that of a bitch in heat. You service your father every night, at least those nights that he's at home, and fuck Christina almost as often. You lose track of the number of guys you pick up. The story is always the same: they chat you up like it was their idea, and then after you've flirted for the proper amount of time, you allow them to persuade you to their places.

They think you'll be a nice fuck; they don't suspect you've become an animal in the sack, a sweet and submissive little thing that screams and whimpers and yells, "Oh, yes, master! Fuck your bitch harder! Breed my wet cunt!"

They don't ask questions when you tell them not to use a condom. A few of the more responsible ones stammer out questions about whether you're on the pill, some out of a nice sense of maturity and others simply because they don't want to get slapped with paternity. You wave away their concerns or, if that doesn't work, simply get down on your knees and give them head. This moment, just prior to the mating--as you know think of it--is the only time you're pushy or insistent with them. Before and after, you are as meek and docile as they expect, ready to let them take you.

And so, as the summer winds to a close, you give in to your urges again and again. You fuck, doggystyle of course, letting your mind shut off as you focus on the pleasure of submitting to a man and getting filled with his cum. This is your purpose: to mate with the alphas, to show that you're a good bitch. Your father has trained you well, and though you might appear and act human for most of the day, you are really just a doggy bitch at heart.

Just wait until college starts in a few weeks, and the boys in your classes get a load of the new you....