Rich girl

You put your paw on the panties.

Your father sighs and looks slightly disappointed. Maybe he's not looking forward to having the old, more talkative Ally back. But he is a man of his word. He reaches over and unlocks the collar, then he helps you take off the gloves that restrain your fingers. You're human again.

"The larynx-constricting chemicals will take a few hours to wear off, so you might not be able to talk for a while. Don't strain yourself. Why don't you have a shower before the boat gets here? I'll have Christina lay out some clothes for you."

You do as he says. It feels weird walking on two legs after two weeks on all fours: you're unsteady at first, and you feel like you're towering over everything. But you enjoy showering all by yourself, and even more so, you enjoy being able to use a toilet again.

Christina has left out plain shorts and a T-shirt for you. She avoids you as the three of you finish packing up. But there's no avoiding you once you're on the boat; your father sequesters himself up front with the driver for the hour-long ride, and the two of you are stuck together in the back with the luggage.

"Look," you say, "I don't blame you for what you did. It sucks that he punished you at all. Where does he get off doing that?" You're barely an hour out of puppy-dom and already feel your bitchiness re-asserting itself. This is good.

Christina doesn't look at you. "It's not that. I love him now, Ally. I want to ... be with him."

You can feel the colour drain from your face. "What?"

"We're going to get married. He's going to square it with my folks first--but that shouldn't be much of an issue. Dad has such a man-crush on him it's ridiculous, he'll jump at the suggestion. And mom's so sloshed most of the time that I doubt she'll understand anything beyond the fact her only daughter's getting married...."

"Christina, you can't be serious. He's, like, over twice your age. He's ... he's my father, for Christ's sake!"

"I know it must seem weird from your perspective." Christina shrugs. "I'm not going to justify it, and I'm not going to expect your support. But I love him, and we're going to get married, and you'll be welcome in our house, whether you choose to be there or not."

Your father has really done a number on her. Then again, whatever makes her happy, right? You recall how much fun the three of you had these past two weeks. Your pussy aches as you remember Christina's eagerness with the dildo. Maybe this is actually for the best....

You shuffle across the bench until you're pressing against her, and you take her hand. "I'm happy for you. Really. I'm grossed out, but I'm happy for you."

"You're grossed out? How can you say that after you let him fuck you--you let him treat you like a dog. How is this grosser?"

"I just let him fuck me. I won't have to listen to him snore, or watch him develop a flabby paunch, or blow his nose for him when he gets man-flu--" you dissolve into laughter, and Christina joins you.

Your trip back home is uneventful. Christina's predictions about her parents prove correct: they don't impede her marriage to your father, and the wedding takes place before you go back to college. Christina drops out from her college and does a correspondence course instead. You know that she spends any days your father has off back at the villa, having kinky sex. You have no idea what she gets up to during the weeks he's away, travelling the world on company business. God knows he doesn't stay loyal or anything as Byzantine as that ... but you suspect that Christina remains open-minded enough for that not to be an issue. You wonder how long he'll stay enamored with her, or if the novelty will ever wear off and he'll gradually push her away.

She's technically your stepmother now. Although the two of you remain close and meet up often on weekends and during your breaks, you seldom return to the house itself, and you don't participate in any of their sex games. Instead you find your satisfaction elsewhere--but your island experience has awakened your need to be someone's bitch instead of just a bitch, and your father isn't the last person to fuck you while you sport a collar and paws....

In a way, you have that stupid island vacation and your kinky father to thank for all that. If it hadn't been for them, you never would have come to terms with your submissive side. You might still be a whiny bitch on the outside, quicker to complain and criticize than to compliment. But in the bedroom, you're every bit the fantasy of the men you fuck: the blonde, honey-skinned, rich fucktoy who desires only to be used and filled, over and over, without reprieve.