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Note: This story is a work of fan fiction - specifically a partial rewrite/reimagining of the story "Detention's Not ALL Bad..." (https://www.sofurry.com/view/293257). All characters, settings, plot points, etc. are credited to Tigerlily1327 - I make no claim to any of them, only the specific arrangement of words that form this particular work of fan fiction. Please make sure to check out the popular original story first, if you haven't already - this version deviates significantly in its tone and retelling.

Also, be aware that this story contains some dark themes, including scenes of rape and incest. It is a purely fictional work, and I do not endorse any of those things in real life. If you're used to somewhat tamer content in my writing, you may want to read one of my other works instead.

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"Cameron?"

The teacher's voice was insistent, modulated loudly enough that the sound of his voice managed to pierce the boundaries of my daydreams. Loud enough, certainly, that it was probably not the first time he'd called on me, and tinged with just enough aggravation to belie his outwardly calm demeanor.

I looked up from where I'd been gazing - ostensibly at the textbook spread open on my desk, but actually focused on nothing while my mind wandered far away from the classroom. I was generally a good student, but even on a regular day it was sometimes hard to stay focused in a technical-minded class in the period just after lunch. Today, though, staying focused was a far more difficult task, but for reasons that went beyond simple fatigue.

Snapping away from a daydream that had been vague, but nonetheless detailed in a particularly important way, I took in the current scene. My teacher was standing a few feet away from me, his dark eyes darting over to look at me with what seemed an inordinate amount of concern. It probably wasn't just concern, though, taking in even more annoyance from the barely-disguised grimace spread across his wolflike muzzle, and the way his white-furred arms were tightly crossed in front of his chest. His ears, though, were tilted back in a way that was almost reminiscent of... embarrassment?

Trying to figure out what was going on, I looked around to see that most of the other students had swiveled around in their seats to look at me as well. The girls seemed to be looking at me almost in puzzlement, while the boys stared with such an intensity it seemed almost as though they were trying to look through my clothes at something they half-suspected was beneath.

As I felt the sensation of moisture slowly cooling off between my legs, it was immediately apparent what was attracting all of the attention. I glanced down, and sure enough, the crotch of my jeans between my casually-arranged legs was darker, a bloom of wetness slowly radiating out against the fabric. The wetness, no doubt spurred along by the nature of my daydream, had apparently overwhelmed the fabric of my already-plastered panties and spread to the clothing beyond.

I could feel myself blushing beneath my fur as I quickly crossed my legs to minimize the exposure, even as the simple motion of doing so sent an uncomfortable thrill darting through me - luckily, it wasn't sufficient to produce any noticeable outward response. As embarrassing as it might be, I almost hoped that most of them believed that I had simply wet myself, or maybe spilled my water bottle when they hadn't been looking. Of course, given that both my outward clothes and appearance looked reasonably normal for a boy, it was unlikely that most of them would guess the real reason behind it. Some of the guys were slow to turn away, though, their noses making obvious sniffing motions in the air as they tried to sort out their own confusion. All their eyes took in was Cameron, a relatively nondescript but perhaps slightly androgynous boy, with nothing that would particularly stand out in their minds. Their noses, however, told a much different story - one that involved the clear and unmistakable scent of a woman very much in heat somewhere nearby. Of course, what they didn't know, and why they were so confused, was the fact that neither of their senses were lying.

I wanted to swear under my breath. The pills had been there the entire time, the small vial with my name stenciled on it, sitting untouched in the medicine cabinet. I'd ignored them, of course. After all, they were the kind of pills that girls were supposed to take. Despite what everyone else had said though, since I was a boy, I hadn't seen the need to take them. I mean, yes, it's true that while most boys have something particular between their legs, what's there for me is normally what you'd find between the legs of a girl, but growing up that didn't change the fact of who I was. I was a boy, plain and simple - that was how I looked, how I dressed, how I was raised, how everyone treated me. Legally, I suppose, no one had ever really know what I was - my driver's license noncommittally read "M/F," and genetic tests had been inconclusive. The doctors performing the tests had called the genetic convergence beyond rare, in strangely awed and hushed tones; my parents, on the other hand, had decided that it was all a load of bull and just treated me as a boy, something that I was completely fine with. In fact, it had never really made a difference, not through elementary, middle, or most of high school. Not until today, a day where I felt barely in control and suddenly wished it had gone much differently. That being said, though, there was a part of me that wanted it to be different still, a difference that involved one of the burly athletes in the second row...

Seeing the teacher continuing to stare at me, probably perturbed by my delay in response, I managed to swallow my frustration and embarrassment and eke out a reply. "Sorry, Professor Rowley," I muttered, looking back down at my textbook as I found myself unable to return his gaze for long. I could feel my body trying to sink down involuntarily against the hard plastic seat, trying as much as it could to hide from view.

"Cameron, are you sure you're all right?" he asked, the concern seemingly outweighing the annoyance. "If you're not feeling well..."

"I-I'm fine, really," I muttered again, ducking my head back down towards my textbook. Mercifully, Rowley seemed to accept my answer, although his gaze lingered for a moment more before he turned back and resumed his lecture. I tried to follow along the best I could, working to keep my intrusively lustful daydreams to a minimum, in the hopes that the wet, unwanted side effect of my heat would at least subside enough for my jeans to dry before I had to get up and walk around in them. Despite my efforts, though, I found my gaze drifting back again and again to some of the burlier boys in the class, and it took every ounce of mental effort I had to keep even a tangential concentration on the subject at hand.

The bell finally rang, and I was happy enough to lag behind and let the other students get caught in the bustle of heading off to the short break before the next class. Unfortunately, the result was that as I got up to leave, using my textbook as best I could to shield my still-wet crotch, the only person remaining was my teacher, who walked over to me before I could leave.

"Um, Professor? Is there..." I managed to get out, trailing off as again I had to force myself to look away from his oddly compelling gaze. I watched as he sniffed at the air, wondering if he had figured out what was going on, and how he would react. As I tried to look back up, I noticed his eyes darting down towards my crotch, although they quickly came back up.

"Cam, I was wondering if we might have a... quick chat. I'm a little concerned about your lack of attention in my class today, and I think it might help if we went over it a bit more directly before it turns into something that requires any formal disciplinary procedures. Because of that, I'm going to have to ask you to come back in tonight."

"But, I, I haven't done anything wrong. I mean, I was a little distracted, but I can do better, but it's not my fault-"

"Right. And that's why we need to talk. Regardless of what's at fault, I need to make sure that we can find a solution so that it doesn't happen again. This is an important class, and you need to be able to stay focused, and not cause any... distractions, yourself."

Rowley looked down at his watch, brushing aside the thick fur on his wrist to expose the crystal-enclosed face. "Unfortunately, I need to head over and do my regular coaching after school, so we'll meet up in my office after... oh, let's say, eight o'clock? It's not exactly detention, but you can call it that if you'd rather. It is mandatory, though, so I expect to see you here if you'd rather not have it turn into something formal."

I nodded my agreement, knowing that any further explanation at this point would only confuse the situation far more. Instead, I simply turned to go, noticing as I did so that Rowley was still trying to sniff unobtrusively at the air, and from the corner of my eye I almost thought I saw his tongue flick quickly out to run along his muzzle.

By the time I arrived at my next class, my jeans were dry enough that my situation wasn't particularly noticeable, and I managed to struggle through two more classes without my mind wandering too much towards the dangerous direction that it so wanted to head. It was small wonder, I thought, that even with the pills some girls chose to stay home for the more intense early parts of their heat. It had never occurred to me just how intense the feelings would be, how much your mind would want to, well, get close to anyone who did have actual boy parts between their legs, how sensitive your crotch would be and how insistent the need building to an itching, agonizing warmth in your belly...

Somehow, after a seemingly endless struggle against persistent fantasies and building frustration, the final bell of the day rang out amidst the clamor of the other students packing up. I hurried out along with them, glancing down to verify that my jeans still appeared to be dry enough, although the panties beneath were still clinging to my skin, somewhere between damp and fully soaked. I headed over to my locker and grabbed my backpack, stuffing my books inside as quickly as I could, determined to strike out for home before I was confronted by any additional temptation. As headed out the school's front door, though, I heard a familiar voice call out. Turning, I saw the figure of my best friend sprinting along the hallway towards me.

"Hey, Cam, where're you going? Aren't you going to hang around until practice is done so we can head back together?" Of course, that's what I would normally do - Chase had soccer practice until later in the afternoon, and I usually hung around campus and watched the practice. While I was relatively inept at sports, Chase excelled at them, and it was a pleasure to watch him play, his striped orange legs flashing by as he handled the ball with a surprising speed and grace, using the broad brow of his otherwise tigerlike head to carom the ball down the field with uncanny aim. Up until now, I had always told myself I had simply admired him for the professional way he played - in my current state, though, I knew that there was no way I could watch the practice without it taking on a completely different, impossibly sexualized tone.

"I, uh, I can't. I, well... I have, um, detention tonight 'cuz I got caught slacking off in class. So, I've gotta go home and do some things first before I have to head back."

Chase looked at me like I was possessed by aliens. He knew, more than most, jsut how good of a student I normally was - we studied together often enough that he was well acquainted with my diligence, and he also knew that the last time I'd even so much as turned my homework in late was in grade school. Of course, there was no way I could elaborate on the real reason I'd gotten in trouble. Chase was a cool guy who took things in stride, and I was sure that even if he knew he'd somehow understand... but at the same time, once he knew, I was sure our relationship would have to change. After all, guys and girls in high school were rarely, if ever, "just friends" - and if I had to keep struggling with this, I knew I would need to count on his support as a friend without any additional awkwardness or strings attached.

"Huh. Well, I'll see you around, then. There's always next practice, yeah?"

"Sure, man. I'll see you next week." By then, I had to assume, the frustration that was heat would be over - that, or I'd just take the damned pills already. Even being in his presence, just for a few minutes, was making my mind threaten to bring up fantasies I should never have had about him, fantasies that I would never admit masturbating to but that still lingered every so often in a corner of my mind. I quickly said goodbye and headed off before any of those insistent feelings and fantasies translated into rash action. Despite that, though, I could feel a renewed burst of moisture flowing out to spread against my crotch and soak further into my underwear, and I knew it was only a matter of time before the previous problem began to reassert itself. I headed home as fast as I could without making my crotch shift too uncomfortably, but even so I had to stumble through a couple of waves of knee-weakening arousal before I finally made it through my front door.

My mother was waiting in the kitchen, already making some early preparations for dinner. She greeted me warmly, as she always did, but looked more than a little perturbed when I mentioned I had to head back to school later for "not quite detention."

"Cam, how in the world did you manage to get in trouble? This is so unlike you!" She sounded more concerned than anything else, but her voice couldn't quite disguise a hint of disappointment.

"I know, mom, I know, it's just... I never thought the heat would be this, this crazy. Everything's so sensitive, I can barely concentrate, and every guy I see, I want to... I want... them..."

I could hear my mom sigh. "Cam, I can already tell how bad it is. I have a nose too, you know. Why didn't you take the pills that Dr. Heuber prescribed? If you had, you'd be feeling much more in control, you know."

"I, uh, I just didn't..." because they were for girls, going through girl things, and I hadn't wanted to. Only, girl, boy, or whatever I was, the parts both between my legs and between my ears seemed determined to use this "girl thing" to make me miserable.

"Well, I'm not going to force them down your throat, Cam. It's up to you how you want to play this out, although if you haven't been taking them already I'm not sure how much good they'll do now. You'll just have to ride it out." She paused, her expression softening. "Cam, I'm sorry I snapped at you. I know how tough this can be, especially given how new this is to you. I also know we haven't really talked about this particular part of you - honestly, given that you hadn't gone into heat before your eighteenth birthday, I thought that that maybe, somehow, you just wouldn't have to worry about that part of you and could just go on being how you usually are. Since it's here, though... you're just gonna have to accept that as much as you want to be a guy, in certain respects, you're also gonna have to be a girl."

She turned back to her cooking as she continued. "Just remember that in a few days, you'll be back to your old self and can put this behind you. Plus, in an odd way, you're kind of lucky - if it comes down to a situation where you really need to give in to your urges, there shouldn't be much in the way of risk."

I knew, of course, what she was referring to. Along with all of my other peculiarities, the doctors had mentioned that the particular configuration of my body rendered me effectively sterile - apparently, certain things weren't connected properly, or didn't exist in the first place. It wasn't something I really thought about much, as that always seemed to go along with the "being a girl" part of my life that I was usually able to ignore. In the current situation, though, I had to admit that it felt more than absurd - if I couldn't reproduce in the first place, then why did my body have such a strong, overwhelming desire to do so?

My mother's last statement didn't really call for a direct response, so I didn't give one. "Anyway, I'm gonna head up to my room and get some rest before I have to head back to school." By which I meant, of course, that I was going to see about getting some manual relief from the frustration that had been building throughout the entire day.

"All right, hon. Just take it easy, and remember, this'll pass before you know it." She glanced back down at the food she was working on. "Dinner'll be ready in an hour or so, but if you don't feel like eating before you leave, I can just keep it warm for you to have once you get back."

I let her return to her work, heading up the short flight of stairs and down the hallway to my room. I slammed the door as soon as I got inside, tossed my backpack onto an empty spot of floor, and flopped down face-first on top of my unmade bed. It had already been a crazy enough day, and it wasn't even close to being over.

I tilted my head to the side on my pillow, looking over at the mirrored doors to my closet. I wasn't particularly thrilled with the figure that stared back.

It was as though all of the things that had defined me as a guy were slowly fading away. In all honesty, I hadn't looked exactly the striking figure of a boy even from an early age. Huskies were already more towards the cute end of the spectrum, despite their distant connection to wolves, and my own cream-white, extra-fluffy fur and big, gentle blue eyes only exacerbated it. True, there were no breasts pushing out the chest of my shirt, but neither were there any visible masculine muscles. Below the waist, it was even worse - while the lack of breasts at least helped somewhat to take away from any feminine appearance, the same could not be said for my hips. While they weren't quite as obvious as some of the girls in my class, who went to great effort to flaunt them, the gentle curves of my hips and butt were undeniably feminine. They were so feminine, in fact, that the only guys' jeans I could find that fit comfortably were so loose that I risked violating the school's dress code. I had to wear girls' jeans instead, and while I had tried to find a type with the absolute fewest frills or other feminine features, apparently all jeans for girls my age were designed to tightly hug and accentuate their curves rather than disguise them. In fact, if they hadn't been so snug up against my crotch, in the way that boys' jeans avoid, I might have avoided the embarrassment from earlier.

Cursing them under my breath, I rolled over and undid the fly, easing the tight fabric off of my legs before kicking them aside. I made a face at my reflection, but even with my eyes squinched and my long canine tongue flopping about, I still looked ridiculously feminine, the lines of my face far softer than the aggressive, angular male ones that should have been there. I suppose it should have been obvious, but as much as I tried to make the world look at me like the boy I'd thought I was, the only things standing between me and an unquestionably feminine appearance were my lack of breasts and my supposedly masculine, close-cropped head fur. Even that most male of haircuts, I realized, seemed feminine when framed around my face. Could I really deny it? I looked like a girl. I even sounded like a girl - as much as I'd waited for my voice to drop all during high school, it had barely done so at all, and when I'd tried out for the choir, embarrassingly, I'd been able to hit notes far higher than even the most talented first tenor. In so many ways, despite everything, I was unquestionably female. And even if I could set all that aside, my female body was all of a sudden flooded with very female needs, and despite what a part of me wanted to impossibly do, I had no choice but to take care of them in a very feminine way.

Looking away from the face I didn't want to see, I reached down and slid my hand down along my flat belly and across the thin waistband of my panties, my fingers tracing across the fabric as they quickly slid lower. I could feel the moisture soaking through the fabric to slick across my pawpads several inches before they curled down across my mound, as I realized just how soaked my panties actually were - I didn't even want to think about what the crotch of my jeans looked like inside.

As my fingers pressed in lightly against the fabric stretched taut across my mound, I realized just how literal the term heat was - even through the fabric, I could feel an intense warmth bleeding through from the swollen flesh beneath. At the same time, though, the feeling of my fingers rubbing against my mound was intense enough that it immediately caused a soft, depressingly feminine moan to escape from deep within my chest.

While I somehow hadn't had an actual heat, or this level of crazy desire before, masturbation was hardly new to me. I'd learned about it fairly early into my teens, and for me it was the only real fringe benefit of the female parts I otherwise had to deal with. Between my parents' nosiness and my unwillingness to use "girly" sex toys, I had little in the way of additional stimulation. However, once I tried out a bunch of different techniques I'd found on the net and found certain combinations that worked just right, the feelings I was able to elicit from the ridges and folds and nub between my legs were beyond amazing. However much I might grouse about it otherwise, when I was lying on my bed with my tongue lolled out and the entire core of my body thrumming from the third orgasm in a row, I couldn't help but admit that certain female parts had at least some advantages.

Heat, though, was completely different, and everything down there seemed to be in overdrive. Even after a full session normally, the most liquid consequences might be a slight wet spot on the panties I pulled on afterwards. Without even a touch until now, though, my panties were completely soaked, the fabric plastered against my crotch and ass. While the panties usually provided a nice softness to rub against when I wanted to begin, their uncomfortable wetness was nothing but a constricting hindrance. Groaning, I slid them down from around my hips, tilting my legs up against the rumpled sheets as I pulled them away to rest limply just above my knees.

I returned my fingers to their original position, gasping at the feeling of direct contact between the pawpads and the skin. The heat and the swelling seemed to have combined to make me incredibly sensitive down there, just that gentle touch against my mound several times more intense than normal, and more than enough to drive forward an already overwhelming state of arousal. The touch seemed to send me into a frenzy, and all I could think of was the intense, inexplicable, but undeniable need to have something inside me.

I didn't hesitate for a moment, my fingers seeming to curve in naturally as they rubbed forward along my pussy lips, my hips already bucking forward at their touch. I practically screamed in pleasure as they quickly found what they were looking for and pushed in firmly. My body was so ready that they slid in without any resistance at all, helped along by the warm wetness flowing out copiously around them.

The inner walls that usually hung tight and resisted my intrusion, at least at first, now conformed eagerly under my touch, the flesh yielding with a stretching sensation that was intensely pleasurable. Even as the spot under my finger thrilled in response to my touch, I could feel everything around it yearning in turn, itching to be stroked, and spread, and stretched. Normally, I worked my fingers in an up, in search of that one particular spot that always felt wonderful and quickly pushed me forward towards orgasm, but now every single spot that my fingers stroked across seemed as sensitive or more. Soon the sensation was almost unbearably good, and all manner of wonderfully pleased sounds began to bubble up from deep in my chest. Despite trying as hard as I could to keep my muzzle closed, I could hear some of them make it through, and the last part of me not lost in pleasure hoped that my mother wouldn't hear what was going on - the kitchen was far enough away that it shouldn't have been a problem, though.

The feelings were beginning to become almost more than I could handle, the pleasure almost flashing over into agony, but I couldn't quite get over the edge. I as so close, so close, but it just wasn't quite there. After a few more moments feeling like I was hanging on the edge but not quite able to go over, I pulled my fingers back with a low growl of frustration.

I looked down at my fingers. Across all my other sessions, they'd never been as wet as this. Slick, viscous fluid completely coated their surface, matting down the fur and leaving glistening trails strung between them when I moved them apart. I moved my hand back up and looked at them curiously - somehow, that impossibly slick wetness had come out of me. I looked at it, momentarily transfixed, even as my pussy ached for the fingers to slide back in. I was already panting hard, but as I breathed in again, I was almost overwhelmed by the scent coming off my fingers. It was my scent, familiar enough, but many, many times as strong, and intermixed with a spicy, exotic smell that sent my swollen clit straining upward against its hood, as though the smell had almost made it want to become male and produce the traditional male reaction. Even as I felt it, though, I suddenly realized what I had been missing.

I brought my slick fingers back down, resting my fingertips gently on either side of my hood, their moisture intermingling with the wetness already there as I slid them together around it, rubbing them gently back and forth and nudging the hood - and the clit swelled up against it - from side to side. I could only take a couple of seconds of it before I felt my hips tensing, the crazy need from between my legs multiplying out of control. My other hand quickly joined the first between my legs, fingers stroking across one sensitive spot after another as I curled and uncurled them inside me. My thighs tensed together, my moans becoming ragged as I felt the sensation of orgasm building inside me. My inner walls tensed around my fingers, trembling as I teetered on the edge, but even as I did so I noticed something move in my field of vision.

My head darted up, and the first thing I saw was the door. The half-open door. I had slammed the door so hard when I entered my room that instead of closing, it had bounced back against the doorframe and hung halfway ajar, somehow escaping my notice. In the doorway, silhouetted by the light of the hallway, was the unmistakable form of my father standing in the doorway transfixed, one hand tucked discreetly in his pants pocket as his dark eyes stared unblinkingly back at me.

I felt an instantaneous surge of panic flow through me, and I began to cry out, but at the same time my clit hood decided to give way and slide back, exposing my sensitive button to the two slick fingers that came together to give it a panicked squeeze.

"DAD, WHAT ARE YUUUUHHHHhh-hhhhhhh-" I screamed, my cry giving way to a ragged moan, as the incredible feeling of my sensitive clit squeezing and rolling between my warm, slick pawpads seemed to be instantly mirrored across every nerve in my body. My insides clamped down tightly against my fingers for a moment, my breath catching in my throat as my inner walls spasmed. The spasm seemed to run up my spine, and as much as the panicked part of me wanted to do something, anything, to preserve my modesty, my body was quickly beyond my control. My back quickly arched, my thighs twitching tightly together as the delicious out-of-control feelings raced across my body. My speech disintegrated into a wordless moan that seemed to go on and on, as something spurted out wonderfully and sent my hips squirming and shivering, even as my pussy throbbed and twitched wonderfully around my fingers as the orgasm fully overtook me.

It took at least a minute before my orgasm fully subsided and I could move normally again, let alone care about the world around me. For a moment, my hands relaxed and drifted naturally to my sides, and I realized that my head was pressed back against the pillows and looking at a white expanse of ceiling. I tilted my head back up, and sure enough, my dad was still standing in the doorway, silent, motionless, his pants tented out in front of him. I looked further down, to my legs still tangled up in my panties, and to the burgeoning wet spot on my sheets spreading out on either side of my butt. As my full awareness returned, I realized with horror that my dad had seen everything, literally everything, watched me shamelessly shudder through an orgasm in front of him even with the full knowledge that he was watching. Even now, I knew, my drenched, still-twitching pussy was still on full display, completely exposed - and the way his head was tilted, I could tell he was looking straight at it. For a moment, I wondered what he'd do, seeing me like this - and if he did do something, whether I would, or even could, resist.

Somehow, I mustered the strength to reach down between my thighs and at least basically covering myself with my hand, repeating my earlier cry.

"DAD! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

The shout seemed to snap my father out of his erotic reverie, his head darting up even as his ears dipped in profound embarrassment. I took the opportunity of his momentary hesitation to grab a corner of the blanket and pull it over me, covering my nakedness below the waist.

"I, uh, I- I think we, ah-" he stammered incoherently, his ears descending to lie flat against his head as the bulge pushing out the front of his pants began to reluctantly dissipate. His eyes seemed to glisten in the uneven light, tears sparkling on their edges, and I could see his tail tucking in between his pant legs. He stood there for a moment, shivering gently in fear and shame, before his hand darted out and slammed the door shut. His footfalls pounded back down the hallway towards my parents' bedroom, the sound quickly receding behind another slammed door.

I lay back in my own bed, pulling the covers tightly around me as the pleasant feelings of orgasm quickly gave way to my own guilt and shame. Even though I knew I couldn't have helped it - between my heat and the unfortunate timing, my own body had been beyond my control - it was still an incredibly humiliating experience. I had no idea how I'd even talk to my own dad, even be in the same room with him after this - and if my mom found out, I had no idea what would happen, but it certainly wouldn't be good.

I realized, with a shiver of fear, just how powerful heat could be - it had managed to cause my own father, who'd been nothing but respectful and caring with me his entire life, to mutely participate in my humiliation - and, if I hadn't acted, who knows what else. Even in my confused state, my eyes couldn't help darting back to his unmistakable bulge the entire time I'd looked at him in the doorway, and I really did think that if he decided to act there would have been nothing I could have done. It was, oddly enough, a relief that as awkward and humiliating as the experience had been, that I'd somehow kept the situation from becoming so much worse.

Unfortunately, though, that relief was the only one that stuck. It was only a few minutes after my orgasm, the spread of my own juices on the sheets below me only just beginning to cool against my fur, and I could feel the itchy, desperate warmth already beginning to spread through my pussy. Gritting my teeth, I reached down and tried to sate it again, but the combination of the fading adrenaline from before and the growing need for something that could dig deeper and stretch wider than my fingers meant that whatever additional relief I could eke out was fleeting at best. By the time I gave up on it, I only felt even more frustrated, and the digits on the alarm clock on my desk had already ticked past seven-thirty.

Groaning, I pulled myself back out of bed, grabbing a corner of the sheet and rubbing it along my drenched crotch and thighs until they were reasonably dry. I looked down at the huge wet spot on the bed, reeking with my heated scent, before tearing all the sheets off, crumpling them into a ball, and tossing them into the clothes hamper. I knew there was always a spare set or two in the hall closet, there for occasional guests, and I'd borrow one of them to use for the night when I got back.

I yanked open one of my dresser drawers, grabbing a pair of panties and random and quickly pulling them on, squirming for a moment as I got used to the feel of the fabric snugged back up against my agonizingly sensitive crotch. My jeans from earlier reeked almost as much as the sheets, so I tracked down a new pair and pulled them on too, annoyed by the way their just-washed fit snugged up against my thighs and butt. There was no time to bicker about it, though, so I hastily zipped them up, taking only a moment to grab my backpack and thump my way down the stairs.

My mother was in the far part of the kitchen, and didn't seem to even notice as I darted past, something that was fine by me - I wasn't sure I could face either of them at the moment after what had just happened. I slammed my way out the door, and soon the lightly cool air of early evening was brushing by against my fur as I half-jogged along the sidewalk back towards school. I hadn't eaten, but somehow I didn't really feel all that hungry, or thirsty, or anything else beyond the insistent feeling that throbbed in my belly and poured out from between my legs. By the time the school building pulled into view around a corner, I could feel my newly-soaked panties plastered back up against my mound, and I knew that I wasn't only panting from exertion as my feet pounded up the front steps.

The school's lights were partially on, every third florescent panel or so casting a subdued light, but no one else seemed to be around. My footfalls echoed around the empty hallway, and the overall sensation would have felt eerie if I hadn't been so preoccupied with more pressing concerns. I wanted to find Rowley's office, deal with whatever this not-quite-detention was, and leave. Or did I? Going home would be an exercise in awkwardness, something I would be more than happy to avoid. Walking over to Chase's house, at the moment, would be... probably a bad idea. Besides, I had an inkling that the reason I was here went beyond scrubbing desks or writing sentences on a chalkboard, although one of the possibilities was one my mind wasn't ready to admit.

I stopped in front of the door to Mr. Rowley's classroom, easing it open. The room inside was dark, and I nearly jumped out of my fur when the automatic piston on the classroom door caused it to slam shut behind me. I quickly glanced around the room, my canine eyes quickly adjusting to the dim ambient light to provide just enough to make out various shapes: desks, posters on the walls, the room's requisite globe and flagpole. I didn't see any sign of movement, though, beyond my own paws fidgeting nervously in front of me. Despite everything else, the eerie feeling of being alone in the school was beginning to push through into my consciousness.

"P-professor Rowley? Are you in here?" I heard my voice waver, and hoped it didn't send the wrong signal to anything that might be lurking motionless in the shadows.

"I'm in my office, Cameron. Come on back." Sure enough, looking closely towards the back of the room, there was the faintest sliver of light shining out below the solid wooden door to his office. I made my way over, jumping only slightly as a desk creaked softly as I walked past.

As I walked over to the door, my sensitive nose quickly detected Rowley's scent wafting out from under it, and I clenched my teeth, blushing involuntarily, as the smell sent another burst of moisture trickling out to soak into the already sopping-wet crotch of my panties. As I reached over and tugged the door open, I silently hoped that the latest inundation wouldn't spread so obviously onto my jeans as it had before.

Professor Rowley was sitting behind his wooden desk in an overstuffed black leather chair. He was dressed in what he had been wearing before: a cream-colored dress shirt that subtly offset his white fur, and dark belted slacks. The tie that he usually wore, though, was instead draped over a hook on the coatrack in the corner, and the top couple of buttons on his shirt were undone, revealing a generous portion of his chest ruff. He looked over at me as soon as I walked in, regarding me silently for a moment, a smile spreading slowly across his muzzle as I could almost feel myself shrink under his gaze. At least, I thought, he didn't seem to be too cross about having to stay after school to deal with me and my "issues."

After a moment, Rowley broke his gaze, and gestured for me to sit in the empty chair in front of his desk. I complied, even as I realized that the motion caused my jeans to tighten up against my crotch, and would certainly soon begin to absorb the moisture from the close contact. I thought about discreetly trying to cross my legs, but Rowley was staring intently at me again, and for some reason it seemed like the right thing to instead slouch down a little in my chair and stretch my legs out to wither side. I wasn't quite sure why it felt better, so I simply tried to ignore it as Rowley began to speak.

"Cameron, as I'm sure you're aware, the reason that you're here is because of your behavior in my class today. You were distracted, and you caused a distraction to others. Both are things that I cannot tolerate in my class. This is especially true when it comes to one of my most promising students, and one that I care about deeply. You have a problem right now, and after some consideration, I think I know what it is... and what needs to be done to resolve it in a satisfactory manner. So, in order to help you resolve this, we're going to be meeting like this every night after school until this problem is sorted out."

I cringed inwardly at that notion, wondering if this was going to be some sort of detention after all.

"Um, Mr. Rowley, are you sure that's really necessary? I just got distracted, just this once. I was just, um... I just wasn't quite feeling like myself today, okay? I've been getting good grades so far, I'm sure I'll do fine on the next assignments. I just need a few days, and... we really don't have to do this."

"Oh, on the contrary, I think we do." Rowley stood up, walking around the desk to stand over me as I slouched forward even more, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Cameron, do you know what your problem is?" he asked.

"Yeah, I know, I got distracted, but I'm gonna-"

"No," Rowley interjected, "I don't think you do. And that's why there's a problem."

He leaned over me, seeming to look me over carefully, before his head darted over to look at something in the corner of the room. I followed his gaze, and realized that he was looking over at a black gym bag that had been tossed into a corner near a filing cabinet. The bag was zipped, though, and I couldn't tell what might be inside.

Rowley looked back over, this time looking pointedly down at my crotch, which by now was showing a wet spot again. Maybe I could explain it away, that I was just nervous from being here alone, and that I maybe just wet myself a little, and...

My train of thought trailed off as Rowley again began to speak. "The problem, Cameron, is that you seem very much to want to be a boy. And, according to your file, somehow you made it through past your eighteenth birthday while maintaining that illusion. It's also true that, most of the time, it's fine to act that way if you really feel like it. However, there are certain conditions when you absolutely have to be a woman. Your problem, then, was choosing to try to be a man today, when what you really needed to be was a woman, and act like a proper woman should have. Instead, you tried to tough it out, and you only ended up distracted and frustrated. Am I right?"

"I, uhh, I'm not a-" My words cut off abruptly as Rowley reached down with one of his hands, his fingers pressing in against the crotch of my jeans and rubbing along my mound from top to bottom. The sudden sensation was intense, his fingers pressed in close enough that I could feel them trace across the ridges of my pussy lips, which meant that he could surely feel their contours through the fabric. I gritted my teeth, trying not to make a sound, my hands tightly gripping the arms of the chair in an effort to maintain my composure. His fingers slid back down and retraced their course, though, and it only took two more firm strokes to elicit a soft moan as my hips humped forward automatically against his touch.

Rowley pulled his hand back, smirking. "Really, Cameron... do you think that a boy would respond like that? A boy might have been shocked, or angry, or wouldn't have cared because there's nothing where I touched that would excite a real boy much at all. But you... you didn't struggle. You didn't try to pull your hips together to prevent my access. You didn't reach out or say a word to stop me. Instead, you just moaned and let me touch you as much as I wanted. Because you enjoyed it. You did enjoy it, didn't you? In fact, you'd prefer that my hand went right back down and continued what it was doing. Isn't that right?"

There was a certain horror as the realization of what was happening flashed across my mind. My teacher, a man that I had looked up to and respected, a man that I thought could do no harm, had come into contact with my heat. And now, he had me in his office, all alone, and had just touched me more intimately than any man ever had before. And the most troubling part, I realized, was that I didn't really mind. In fact, from the moment his hand had come in contact with me, I hadn't cared who he was, or what he might be thinking of doing next. All I cared about was that his masculine scent was close, his hand was where it needed to be, and that his touch was giving my body what it desired. What it still desired, I realized, my pussy itching for more and frustrated by his absence. Even as I felt my face flush with shame as my conscious mind realized what was happening to me, I couldn't help but nod in acquiescence and spread my legs a little wider.

He rewarded my affirmation by returning his hand to its position between my legs, his fingers working even more slowly and deliberately, and as he spoke I could see the smile on his muzzle spread wider with every soft, feminine moan he managed to elicit from me.

"Yes, of course you enjoyed it. Just as you'll enjoy so much more before this night is over. Because the thing is, there's only one kind of person that would ignore the fact that I'm your teacher, and what's happening here is supposedly wrong, or taboo, or whatever other feeling is making your stomach knot up right now. Only one kind of person who would willfully ignore all that and give in eagerly to me instead. And that person, Cameron, is not a boy, not a girl. She is a woman. She is a bitch, in heat, who will do whatever, or whoever, is necessary to get what she needs. Isn't that right, Cameron? That's what you are - a bitch, in heat, who is very, very happy right now to have a nice strong wolf here to touch her and take her in the way that she so desires. Aren't you, Cameron? You can go ahead and admit it - after all, it's only the two of us here. Or, I suppose, we can just continue, and you can let your moans speak for you."

His fingers continued to work between my legs, and it was quickly becoming hard to string sentences together as the warmth in my belly built into a full-on heat, my hips regularly rocking and thrusting in response to his touch. Despite what he was saying, despite the way my mind seemed to recoil at the notion of being a bitch in heat, there was little more I wanted at the moment than for him to get closer, and for there to be as little between us as possible.

Rowley removed his fingers again, and I couldn't help but moan plaintively at their renewed absence. As good as it felt, I knew the situation was getting quickly out of hand. After all, Rowley certainly wasn't going to stop at playing around like this. I could already see his bulge beginning to tent out the front of his pleated slacks, and as much as I'd wanted to ignore it, I had learned more than enough from sex-ed class to know what would come next.

"I, I can't I can't do this-" I began, but Rowley cut me off, somehow anticipating my line of thought.

"I think you and I both know that you can, and you will," he said, and the futile half-effort I made to get up from the chair along with my protest was quickly headed off by Rowley's strong hand resting on my shoulder and pushing me, slowly but firmly back down into the chair. "Like I said before, whether you admit it or not, you're in heat, and right now you need to accept that. You've already seen how frustrating it can be to ignore the whims of your own body. If I left you to your own devices, you'd just go through all of that again tomorrow, only worse, and the next day after that, your focus drifting and your smell becoming a confusing distraction for everyone else in class. In fact, if I let you keep trying to maintain your vain hopes of being a boy, like as not you'd end up being bent over a desk by some student or other while the rest of the class watched. Can you imagine how humiliating that would be? That's why we're here, together - to help you solve this problem in the easiest way possible. You get to learn what it means to behave properly as a woman in heat, we both get the relief that we're yearning for, and tomorrow you don't have to worry about being a distraction to yourself and others."

I paused, halfway confused by his words, which in my current state sounded surprisingly compelling. I tried to protest again, to tell him that no matter how I felt, a teacher being with a student was a bad idea. My sentences were barely coherent at all, though, and midway through he again cut me off.

"A bad idea? Come now, Cameron, you don't really believe that, do you? In fact, I don't think that you can. Think about it: we've already established that you're a bitch in heat, yes? And that's one of the redeeming things about being a bitch in heat, you know - no situation involving sex with a strong, healthy man can ever feel like a bad idea. Tell me: do you really think, deep in your heart, that this is a bad idea? That you don't want me oh so badly right now?"

I shook my head without hesitation, even as another flush of shame darkened the skin beneath my fur. As much as a rapidly dwindling part of me hated myself for it, I knew that everything he was saying was true.

"Think about it," he continued. "There's nothing illegal about what we're doing. I know from your file that you recently celebrated your 18th birthday. That means that we're both adults, and we're free to do whatever we want with each other. Not to mention, is there really any part of you that even wants to stop this? Is there really any part of you that doesn't want to see, to feel, what you know I have to offer?"

Rowley smiled again, and this time the grin seemed to have a hard edge to it. "You know, I think I have a way to find out. I think you know just how much you need to be a woman right now, and we both know those jeans are just getting in the way of you seeing that. I've seen how you use them, how you try to wear them, how you somehow think you're more of a boy if you wear them. Deep in your heart, though, you know that they can't do that. That all they really do is get in the way of who you really are, who you really need to be right now."

"Because of that, I think that you need to go ahead and take them off. In fact, I think that's exactly what you want to do. You want to make me happy by showing off your feminine body, and you want to make yourself happy by knowing that only the thinnest layer of cloth stands between my touch and your desire. I mean, if any part of you really wants to avoid all of this and go back to your frustration, all you have to do is refuse. Cuss me out, flip me off, or even just sit there unmoving, and maybe this will all be over." His hand drifted back down to make another lingering stroke along my crotch. "Or slide those jeans off and see what it feels like without them in the way."

I stood, my body keenly aware of his solid male presence mere inches away. Did I really have a choice? Could I really just push past him and walk out the door? Was it even possible to get my body to respond to those commands? Just being in his presence, now, was making it hard to think, my soaked crotch aching for the return of his touch. In my muddled state, I kept thinking more and more that he was right. Maybe this was where I needed to be, right here with him. Maybe he really was what I needed. Maybe I really was a bitch in heat, and all I had to do was stop struggling with myself and admit it. All I had to do was to take off my jeans, admit that he was right, and I could just step forward into his arms and let him satisfy me.

Intoxicated by the heat and the power of his irresistibly male scent, the doubting, fearful, shameful voices in my head began to falter and fade as I struggled to undo the button with shaking hands. As I did, I felt his hand come to rest on my hip, and I realized that he had stepped forward, our bodies a few scant inches away from touching.

"Good girl," he said, his voice seeming to resonate around me. "Here, let me help you with that." His hands moved around to the front, nudging my own aside, quickly undoing the button and sliding down the zipper, pressing in slightly as he did so that I could feel the zipper pull sliding sensuously down the front of my panties as the fabric of the jeans loosened against them. The fabric relaxing against me was a relief, as were the hands that slid along my waist and nudged the waistband loose before slowly nudging the jeans down from around my hips.

Rowley kept his hands on my hips as the jeans, sufficiently loosened by the motion, gradually succumbed to gravity and slid down off of my legs to land in a crumpled pile atop my feet. His arms moved upward, pulling me forward, and I shook the jeans away from my ankles as I stepped out of them and into his arms.

I reveled in his embrace, one of his hands rubbing gently against the small of my back as his arm hooked around my tail and held it up and out of the way. I nuzzled up against him, my muzzle sinking into the exposed fur of his chest ruff as he drew me close. I took in his scent, a strong, powerful musk mixed with the clean linen of his shirt, as his other hand slid off my waist to give my rump a firm pat to bring my entire body into contact with his. His hand lingered, giving my butt a quick squeeze, followed by a slow, gentle caress along its curve that left his hand curling back between my legs. I could feel his sizable bulge pressing in against my belly, and the feel of it, combined with the rest of his close masculine presence, sent my heat into overdrive. I could feel more moisture pouring out of me, slipping past my already-saturated panties and tickling against my fur as it ran in tiny rivulets down the inside of my thighs. His renewed touch between my legs, a moment later, was the most sensual thing I'd ever felt, and it only took a few gentle strokes along my mound before my thighs began to shudder and my knees began to wobble. I practically fell forward against him, his arm tightening against my back to hold me up and press me in tighter against him. I panted heavily against his chest, my body feeling barely under control, and I knew that whatever was going to happen next, I wouldn't even be able to conjure up a desire to stop him. His every touch was ecstatic against my fur, and all my body wanted was to be with him, my mind far to clouded and intoxicated by the situation to contradict my body's overwhleming desires. Just as it seemed my body would completely give itself over to him, though, his hand inexplicably stopped.

He pulled back from me slightly, as I tried to stand on my wobbly legs, and I looked up to see him bring his hand up in front of his nose before inhaling deeply. It looked like my hand from before, only while mine had been soaked, his was absolutely inundated, his white fur darkened and flattened down against his skin under a thick, shiny slick of my juices. After a moment, he brought his hand down to linger in front of my own face, the reek of my overpoweringly heated female scent undeniable.

"You see, Cameron? This is your fate. The fate of all women. Surely you cannot deny who you are, any more. Even so..."

He paused for a moment, then used his hands to spin the both of us halfway around, leaning me back against the desk before releasing me and taking a few steps back. I managed to steady myself on the desk, even as my body instantly yearned for his presence and his touch. I watched as he walked over to the corner and retrieved the gym bag, tossing it down onto the floor in front of me.

"The fact of the matter is, Cameron, you and I both know that there's no way you could possibly resist me. In your current state, just my mere presence here is enough, in time, to rob you of any individual will under your body's instinctual desires. In fact, you know as well as I that if I so desired, I could shove you up against the wall, rip off your panties, and pound your pussy into complete submission - and not only would you do absolutely nothing at all to stop me, every time I pulled out, you'd most likely grovel and beg for more."

"However," he continued, even as he licked his lips at the scenario he'd just portrayed, "that wouldn't be fair, and it wouldn't really solve your problem. If I did that, you could just write it off as me being some kind of controlling, evil bastard, and you could just shift all the blame onto me and continue to deny who you are. To deny the power that comes from being true to yourself and confident in your own fur. You could just write yourself off as some oppressed, controlled victim and learn absolutely nothing from all of this. And apart from all of that, simply taking you now, and forgetting all about this-" he gestured down at the bag - "would be a crime."

"So, because of that, I'm going to give you a choice. In this bag is an ensemble of clothes that will make you look appropriate for your current condition. The girls' bathroom is just a short ways down the hall - I made sure it was unlocked and the lights kept on before you arrived. I want you to head down there, put on those clothes, and then decide what you want. If you return to my office, and accept your place as a woman, you'll get exactly what you expect, and exactly what you need. If your denial is somehow so strong as to override all of your other thoughts and instincts, then by all means, leave - run away if you think it will help, but either way, you will be back in my class tomorrow, and if you are still a distraction there will be either formal disciplinary action, or I may take you into my office and remedy the situation on the spot. I want to see if you've taken what I've taught you here tonight to heart, so the choice is yours."

Rowley stepped off to the side, clearing a path between me and the door. "Just remember though, whatever choice you make, you should do so without dawdling for too long." He gestured down at his trousers, and the bulge visibly pushing out their front. "As you can see, a woman's heat affects far more than just her own body. As I am a man of reasonable experience, I am able to keep my own instincts in check for a reasonable amount of time, but such reserves of patience are not without limits. If you take too long and I have to come and fetch you from the bathroom, I'm going to make your choice for you then and there."

He gestured towards the door, and I got unsteadily to my feet, picking up the gym bag by its straps. For a moment, I hesitated, but the words he'd just said rang heavily in my mind - if I stayed there, I wasn't sure I would like his response. I walked forward, trying not to stumble or let my sensitivity overwhelm me, the first few stumbling steps becoming somewhat more steady as I walked back out through the darkened classroom. His fading scent allowed me to think slightly more clearly, and the overwhelming flood of heat subsided to a steady trickle as I padded my way back out into the hall.

Standing in the hallway, I began to realize just how exposed I was in the open space - below my rumpled shirt, there was only the saturated triangle of my panties, which by now would leave almost nothing to the imagination. My eyes darted around, taking in the dimly-lit hallway, but there was no one else around. Despite how eerie it had felt before, I found myself thankful for the school's emptiness. Even so, I padded down the hallway as softly as I could, and felt relieved as soon as I was able to make it to the bathroom and slam the swinging door shut behind me.

The first thing I did was to peel away the sodden mess that was my panties. The crotch of them seemed almost adhered to my mound, and I could see silvery strands of moisture trailing down between my mound and the fabric as I pulled them down. I yanked them off from around my ankles and crumpled them into a wad, feeling the slimy moisture squish between my fingers. I had overheard girls talking about a "snail trail" before that was somehow related to their clothes, but I'd had no idea what it had meant - now, though, I was beginning to understand.

I tossed the wadded-up panties onto the floor next to the gym bag, feeling a momentary sense of relief at having nothing but the slightly cool air in contact with my crotch. Of course, the relief was only exterior - inside, the lower part of my belly still itched and ached incessantly. Without Rowley's presence, though, the feelings were at least mediating slightly, and I could feel my head clearing.

I reached over to the paper towel dispenser, pulling out several sheets and trying to wipe the moisture off my hands, although I had to give them a good rinse in the sink to really get it all off. As I dried off, though, something else occurred to me, and I pulled down several more towels and used them to sop up the moisture that had dripped down my thighs. I also used a towel to pat gingerly between my legs and try to clean them up as much as possible, my careful touch only eliciting a single soft moan as a corner accidentally nudged up against my clit.

As I tossed the towels into the nearby bin, I couldn't help but look at myself in the mirror. While I hadn't really noticed before, the changes that heat had wrought were surprisingly noticeable. Of course, it was hard to ignore the slicked, matted-down fur on my thighs, which the towels had only done so much to alleviate. Beyond that, though, was just how much was noticeable. Normally, from the front, all that was noticeable between my legs was an absence - instead of a cock, there was normally just a tuft of extra-fluffy fur, and apparently nothing else you could see without crouching down or severely craning your neck. Now, though, beneath that tuft, I could see the clear pinkness of my mound swollen out below it, and even from the front the hood around my clit was visible as the bright red nub poked out from around the other flesh. Even more surprisingly, I noticed that around it, the swollen ridges stretched down to either side - ridges, I realized, that were not even touching, as they normally should have been - instead, there was a gap large enough that I could probably run my pinky finger in between them while barely touching either side.

For some reason, the intent view of my swollen sex was somehow turning me on even further, and I hurriedly worked to look back up and away from the oddly compelling view, but as I did I could already feel another rivulet of moisture flowing down to slick up my pussy lips again. I worked as hard as I could not to think about it, as I knew I needed my head to be as clear as I could make it. I had to figure out what to do, now that I was alone for now, and already a couple of minutes had ticked away.

I realized that I had no idea what to do. The heat wasn't going away, I certainly didn't have any other good way of dealing with it, and I had to admit that Rowley's offer was... compelling. If I just went with what my body was suddenly desiring, the decision would be easy.

At the same time, though, Rowley was my teacher. As much as he had gone on about how things were supposed to work, and as much as I was beginning to believe him, he was still my teacher. He was older, he was certainly trying to manipulate me, and whatever else my body might have to say about it, my mind still knew that it was wrong. And that was even before I tried to wrap my head around the other things he had said, about how much I needed to be a girl. I was a boy, dammit!

I mean... wasn't I? I realized, to my horror, that I didn't know anymore. In a way, I realized, he was right about denial. It was one thing to be just a boy without a penis, who had looked just about like any other boy, and if the only difference came when he had to use the bathroom, then it was hardly a difference, right? But I wasn't just a boy without a penis, now. I was a... boy? But one that had arms that were slender instead of burly, a belly that was girlishly toned and flat instead of boyish abs or pudge, feminine hips and butt that defied male clothes, and now a swollen female pussy that was undeniably a presence rather than an absence. Between Rowley's words, my father's reaction to my not-boy state, and my own observations, I had no idea what, or even who, I was supposed to be. It felt bizarre, almost surreal, like my mind and my body were two different things, somehow connected yet totally separated. Suddenly, everything felt horrible and confusing, and for the first time since I'd arrived, I felt a sudden urge to run - not because I was afraid of what would happen if I didn't, but because I wanted to get as far away from the alien feelings that were infesting me as possible. I didn't know how outrunning them would even be possible, but I couldn't deny the impulse.

I looked towards the door, before realizing that running wasn't going to be as easy as all that. All I had on was a shirt, and if I ran off in that condition, I would be lucky if all that happened to me was to get picked up by the police for public indecency. I had no desire to sort out my slimed-up panties and put them back on, and they wouldn't provide much more coverage even if I did. My jeans were back in Rowley's office, and if I went back there, running would be out of the question.

My gaze settled back onto the gym bag lying on the floor. If I really wanted a way out, the only way to do so would be to wear whatever the bag contained.

I crouched down, sliding the zipper across in a semicircle and pulling back the flap to reveal the clothes inside. There were several neatly-folded items, and I pulled them out one by one, realizing as I did so just how girly each one was.

The first items to come out unfolded into a pair of thigh-high black stockings, with dainty little white bows sewn along the top. Below that was a side-zip red-and-black tartan miniskirt, far shorter than the girls at school were normally allowed to wear. It was accompanied by a shiny black top that seemed to be almost like a corset, with a complex set of loops and laces in the back. Below that were several pairs of panties, all in pastel colors and printed with feminine designs, with a cute little bow on the front of the lace-edged waistbands. Off to the side, nestled into the corner of the bag, were a pair of red spike heels with a surprising number of straps, and they were accompanied by a back-clasp thing that I realized was some sort of neckband, in the shape of a white dress-shirt collar with an iridescent midnight-blue bow tie centered in the front.

As I looked across the array of items, I could feel myself hesitate, blushing at the undeniably feminine nature of each and every item. At the same time, though, I couldn't help but feel an odd flush of excited anticipation that flowed through me, separate yet enhanced by the feelings of my heat. While it hadn't been forbidden or anything, I'd never really worn anything truly feminine like this before - girls' jeans and panties, certainly, but only of the most boyish or androgynous sort. All of a sudden, I wondered what it would be like to wear them, and how interesting it might feel. After all, I was alone, and at most only one other person would ever have to know...

I started with the panties, picking out a pale pink pair adorned with brighter pink hearts, gently pulling them on and snugging them around my hips. They were cut differently than my usual ones, and actually seemed to feel more comfortable, containing just enough fabric to go where it was needed without having too much to cause trouble elsewhere, and the low waistband didn't conflict at all with my tail as some of my others did. The miniskirt came next, pulling on easily and riding snugly on my hips when I zipped it up. The stockings also pulled on easily, staying up on their own, their fit conforming perfectly to my legs. In fact, I realized, everything so far fit perfectly, which meant that somehow Rowley knew all of my clothing sizes exactly, and had put quite a lot of effort into shopping for me. I felt a slight quiver of fear when I realized what that sort of pre-planning entailed about Rowley's intentions, but at the same time, it was tempered by a barely-suppressed giggle as I imagined the clearly masculine Mr. Rowley shopping for womens' clothing, and how the shopkeepers must have reacted to it.

The corset, it turned out, was several degrees of difficulty more complicated to put on, and it took me several tries flailing my hands around behind my back before I got the lacing right. When I did, though, the garment pulled comfortably snug against my chest and belly. The neckband was much easier, though, and my feet slipped comfortably into the heels - while I teetered about on their unusual spikes for a few moments, my legs were mostly stable again, and my naturally digitigrade walk along with a good sense of balance meant that I was able to stand in them naturally without fear of toppling over.

As I finished putting on the ensemble, my sense of odd, forbidden excitement was holding far more weight than the impulse to run, and before I even looked towards the door, a snuck a furtive glance at myself in the mirror. And then an open, prolonged one.

I was stunned at the figure looking back at me. Or, more correctly, I looked stunning. In fact, I looked positively incredible. I mean, I looked feminine, but at the same time, it just looked so, so... right.

I had never understood before what girls had meant when they'd said that certain items of clothing could make your features "pop." Looking in the mirror, though, at my body in its new ensemble, and it suddenly made sense. Framed in neutral boys' clothing, my white fur had looked boring, but its sheen now stood out in sharp contrast to the red and black clothing I now wore. The heels and stockings emphasized the length and tone of my legs, and the miniskirt hugged and emphasized the curves and sway of my hips, while displaying just the slimmest flash of my pink panties as I watched them move through a few experimental steps. The midriff of white fur above showcased my slim, fluffy belly as it stood out between the skirt and the top, and the corset itself made up for my lack of breasts by the way it hugged the feminine curves that continued up my sides. The iridescence of the choker also took away from that lack by emphasizing my slender, graceful neck, and its color against the collar provided a nice complement to my intense blue eyes.

Taken all together, I realized, to my intense surprise, that I was actually very beautiful. Dressed like this, I knew that I could capture the attention of every man that crossed my path. Students, teachers, and everyone else would stop and stare as I passed, and that even the girls would have to look on in admiration, and perhaps jealousy. With the right emphasis, I had everything they did and more, with the exception of only one feature that didn't even seem to be missing in my current getup.

I spun slowly around in front of the mirror, admiring myself from every angle. The transformation was beyond incredible, and with it, I felt a new flush of confidence building up within me. I realized, looking at myself, that I had power. Before, struggling to be a boy, all I'd managed to do was look awkward and inappropriately feminine - I wasn't as strong, or as fast, or had any feature that someone would take notice of in a positive way. As a girl, though, I could stand out in a way that I'd never been able to before. People would have no choice but to notice me.

I realized, then, that Rowley was right - I really did have a choice. I could struggle at, and suck at, being a boy; or I could be a girl, and look and feel amazing. Beyond being beautiful, I realized that the clothes were actually quite comfortable - instead of pulling into annoyingly tight jeans, the skirt rested comfortably on my hips and didn't constrict or rub against my crotch as I walked. The other clothing settled quite nicely against my fur once I patted it down, and even the collar and heels were thrilling to wear. All of a sudden, I wished that I'd known about all of this earlier - if I had known I could have avoided all that struggle, and been comfortable and happy as a girl all this time, wouldn't I have taken it? Looking at myself in the mirror, the choice was beyond clear - rather than feeling like I was missing something as a boy without a penis, it seemed far better to be a girl without breasts. It was better to be a woman, with the things I now knew I could make work - feminine charm, feminine power... and, as the wetness beginning to soak into my new panties reminded me, feminine desires. Desires that I knew needed to be sated - which meant that with my new outlook, there was only one possible choice to make.

Zipping the back back up, I carried it down the hall, this time walking with a newfound confidence. I didn't try to modify my stride as I normally did, and instead allowed my hips to sway in the way that they wanted to and that I had previously despised, knowing now what such motions could evoke when appropriately attired.

The heels clacked on the floor as I opened the door to the classroom again, catching slightly on the transom, but I was able to grab onto a nearby desk with a flailing hand and retain my balance. The rest of the walk was easier, and when I walked back into the brightly-lit office, Rowley's jaw dropped open the moment he laid eyes on the new me, and wasn't able to regain his composure for at least a minute as his eyes played repeatedly up and down my body.

"H-holy shit you're amazing," he finally said, his words coming out too quickly. "I had a feeling those would look good on you, but... damn. There's no question that you're not just a real woman, but a stone-cold vixen. And I thought you were a distraction before..." He leaned back in his chair, licking his lips as his eyes continued to roam along my figure. "It's almost a shame that they're all gonna come off in a minute, but if my self-control was fading before, seeing you like that means it's just about gone."

He stood up, gesturing over towards the desk, but then thought better of it - instead, his arm reached down, sweeping across the wooden surface to send the contents atop it flying off to the side before clattering down into a scattered pile on the floor. "Hop up on the desk and let's get started. It'll be an honor to have it, ah... inaugurated by someone of your beauty."

I tossed the gym bag over to the side and hopped up easily onto the edge of the desk, letting my legs dangle over the side. I spread my thighs out to either side, knowing that it would give Rowley a nice view of my crotch, and the spreading wet spot on my panties, as he came around the desk to stand in front of me.

Even as Rowley's smell began to get me going again, I realized that I was also oddly pleased - my own transformation had seemed to have a related transformation on him. Before, I knew, he had seen me as a student, someone that he had control over, someone he could cow and touch and manipulate. All of a sudden, though, he could see me as I somehow was: as a woman, as someone equal in this dance of desire, and his near-reverent tone and at least partial sense of subservience filled me with a previously unknown sense of pride.

The stunned subservience, however, didn't last for long - Rowley's aggressive male desire seemed to take over as soon as his arms returned to settle into place on either side of my waist, rubbing sensually through my fur before gripping me firmly and pulling my hips forward until they hung partly off the edge of the desk. I used my elbows to prop myself back on the desk to maintain my balance, falling back into a half-reclining posture. His own hips moved in to spread my thighs out farther to either side, and a moment later I could feel him humping against me, his bulge rubbing up irresistably against the soft, thin fabric of my panties. Each hump sent a thrill running up my spine, and I let my tail twitch happily and my moans come unbidden as I undulated my hips back against him. It was all right to a woman, I thought; it was all right to want this just as much as he did.

After a few delicious minutes of enjoying the grinding motion, even while knowing that it was just an appetizing simulation of what was to come, and I didn't mind at all as Rowley reached up and undid all of my hard-fought lacing in a matter of moments, pulling the corset off as I rocked my balance from one side to the other to get my arms free in turn. As soon as it was off, he buried his muzzle into the soft fur on my chest, nosing around as his thrusting caused me to moan almost directly into his ear. Somehow he managed to find the nipples that lurked beneath my fur, his tongue flicking languidly over each one in turn, the feeling of it seeming to flow straight down my abdomen and through my heated belly to increase the urgent thrusts of my own hips as his bulge ground up wonderfully against my now completely-soaked panties.

"Oh yeah, you're definitely ready for more." Rowley pulled back for a moment, and I could see my own glistening wetness spread across the crotch of his slacks. He leaned back down, nuzzling the fur on my belly for a moment, before reaching down and hiking the miniskirt up to rest in a thick band along my waist, exposing the drenched crotch of my panties. I looked down as I watched his head descend between my thighs, only to rock my head back and moan as his nose nuzzled wonderfully up against my panty-clad crotch. When it reemerged, I could see my juices slick across his muzzle, and I watched as he licked his lips in appreciation.

"Mmmm... oh yeah. It's definitely time for this pussy to get some attention. But first, I think it's time for you to get acquainted with one of the perks of wolf loving - and one of the most thrilling things that can happen to a woman." He reached back down, along the line of my panties, and hooked his fingers under the waistband. As he did, I could feel something brushing against my fur and lightly prickly against the skin underneath - I was feeling his claws! Even as I realized that, though, he yanked down with savage force, and I felt the fabric tug hard against my waist and butt. Then, with a sharp ripping sound, I felt the constriction release as the fabric ripped apart along its seams, and when the hand came away it was holding tightly onto several shreds of pink-heart-colored fabric. While it seemed bizarre at first, I realized that he had just managed to rip my panties completely off with one quick stroke, and that my wet, swollen pussy was now on full display for him.

He took a moment to look down between my legs, whistling at what he saw. "You truly are beautiful in every way, aren't you. And now that I've seen how beautiful you are, it's time to make you sound beautiful, too."

His head submerged again between my thighs, and I gasped as his cold, wet nose nudged up against my clit hood as his muzzle nestled warmly between my thighs. Before I could even get used to the sensation, I felt his tongue dart out, its delightfully wet warmth lapping up along my pussy lips, causing the sensitive ridges to ripple from side to side as the tongue rubbed up in between them and lapped quickly along their entire length. The feeling set me to moaning almost nonstop, the subtle stroking of his tongue a hundred times more sensuous than whatever I could manage with my own fingers. I could feel my juices practically pouring out to meet his eager tongue, even as it lapped faster and faster, and I could feel it nudging my lips further and further apart. Soon, the start of each lick caused the tip of his tongue to plunge into the entrance of my passage, taking a split second to soak up its copious moisture and deliver a delightful stretching, penetrating feeling before completing each sensuous stroke along my ridges. It felt amazing, my heat seeming to build to a crescendo, and my hands seeming to reach out of their own volition to hold his head in place. I could feel my thighs beginning to tremble around him, and I knew that the feelings would soon take me over the edge. At the same time, though, I somehow wanted the feelings to go on and on and on.

I tried to think of other things in the hope that it might delay the inevitable and allow the pleasure to continue for just a bit more, but in the midst of it all it was beyond difficult to focus. My mind seemed to skip around, and the images it jumped to were at once the most interesting and the least helpful. I flashed on the moment when I looked at myself in the mirror, realizing for the first time how I really looked... the feeling of my fingers pushing me towards a climax as I futilely tried to fight the frustration... the incomprehensible look on my dad's face, a mixture of shame and fear and excitement and predation and love, as he'd watched his own son come in front of him. No, wait, his own... daughter? Son, daughter, son, daughter, a woman with a pussy playing with herself, and the unmistakable smell of her father's scent, of his shame, of the arousal that meant that he'd watched, shame or not... Perversely, the last thought only made me even more powerfully aroused, and the edge loomed ever closer.

"Ohhh godddddd, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!" I yelled, and that, perplexingly, was when Rowley's tongue immediately stopped, his head pulling back from between my thighs despite my own hands trying to keep him there. He regarded me as he stood up, and I looked back at him, panting, my pussy throbbing agonizingly as it yearned for the touch it needed to send it into orgasm.

"W-why? Why are you stopping?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"Oh, I think you know why. Can you tell me you haven't already masturbated today? Cum today?"

I shook my head no. "And did it leave you satisfied?" I shook my head again, realizing he was right.

"What it does mean, though, is that it is time for this." As I watched, Rowley's hands undid his belt, pulled down the zipper, and let his slacks fall to the floor. He wasn't wearing any underwear.

He leaned forward, letting what hung between his legs come down to rest white-hot against the fur on my belly. He was very, very male, and his cock was undeniably canine. I looked at is as it laid along my belly, veiny and bright red, its tip flaring back into a bulging red shaft the knot settling into the fur just above my mound as his fuzzy balls tickled lightly against my pussy, just barely enough to be tantalizing without providing any satiation.

I looked down at his cock with a sense of almost disbelief. The tip nuzzled my fur just an inch or two below my belly button, and the shaft looked as thick around as my wrist, while the knot itself looked as big as my clenched fist. I looked along my hips, along my belly, and realized that it was going to be that big, and stretch that far, but inside me. Even so, I flashed to my earlier masturbatory explorations, remembering how everything had felt extra-stretchy and compliant inside, and how good it had felt to stretch the part near the entrance as much as I could. After all, he was a man and I was a woman, and it wouldn't make sense for a man to have a cock that size if a woman wasn't designed to take and enjoy it. Despite my trepidation, my pussy was still throbbing, and to have what it needed so close, so painfully close... I could feel my hips starting to subtly scoot back, in order to make the cock slide back down my belly, and between my thighs...

Rowley noticed this, and even as he rested his hands on my hips and held them in place, I could see his own his beginning to slide back, the tip of his cock tracing down across my fur and sinking lower and lower down on my belly. Watching as it pulled back, and approached my aching pussy, was both agonizing and intensely erotic, which was why I felt slightly disturbed when he paused after a few inches.

"Um, Cameron? I know it's not normally an issue for girls like, uh, you, but you are in heat... do you need me to get out a condom?"

"N-no, I can't, can't get pregnant..."

"A shame, I guess, but it does make things easier. When you're in heat, the only way to get truly satisfied is to feel it without anything in the way, to feel that sensation of a man's seed inside you as you're bred. Well, that's what I've heard, anyway. You'll get to see exactly what that feels like very, very soon."

With that, the cock pulled all the way back, and I watched it fall down between my thighs and out of view. When it pushed back in, the tip nudged up against my clit, and I almost came then and there before it pulled back slightly and dipped down between my lips. As spread as they already were, they cradled the tip and thrilled as it slid down along their slick surface to rest in the cradle that they formed when they came together at the bottom. The motion left it pointed directly at my entrance, and I felt the flared tip nudge the lips out to the side, their sensitive flesh thrilling against the intense warmth as I felt them stretch and conform comfortably around the shaft as it pushed gently inside, inch by warm, throbbing inch.

As the cock pushed in, I felt its warmth penetrating into areas I'd never even felt before, deeper and deeper into my belly as newly sensitive flesh thrilled against his warmth. I cried out at the intense sensations, the subtle pain of penetration into new areas almost immediately overwhelmed by the wonderful stretching feeling and the white heat of being skin-to-skin against his cock. By the time his first motion completed, I realized that my legs had managed to wrap themselves tightly around his waist, my outer lips stretching out pleasantly around the edge of his knot as he hilted the bulk of his shaft fully inside me.

It felt incredible just to have his warmth inside me, the feeling of being properly stretched and filled causing the ache of the heat to begin to dissipate into a gentle warmth that met with his own. He seemed content to stay inside me for the moment, at least, as I looked up to see an intensely aroused expression on his face.

"My god, you're so incredibly tight, I can feel every inch of your pussy around me." He glanced down at me, suddenly looking intensely pleased to see me with my legs spread and my pussy wrapped around him. A fire seemed to flash into his eyes, and his grin began to seem almost feral. I watched as his hips pulled back, my walls almost feeling like they were clinging to his shaft and trying to hold it in. Then he slammed his hips back into place, my own rocking back with a shock as his cock rubbed and intensely stretched my walls as it slammed back in quickly. I was so wet, though, and my insides so ready and compliant, that the sudden thrust did the opposite of hurt. Instead, my hips trembled around him, and I let out a long, wordless, ragged moan as I felt my insides squeeze and ripple and cum around the thick, warm shaft pressed in tightly against them.

The wave of pleasure rolled through me quickly, and after a moment of pure ecstasy, my awareness returned to find him thrusting regularly in and out of me, quickly building up to a steady, pleasant rhythm. Each stroke in and out rubbed and pulled against the sensitive sides of the passage, and each one elicited a gasp or moan or intensely satisfied purr in response as I enjoyed the feeling of my body rocking back and forth in response to his thrusts. I felt one of the high heels, and then the other, eventually shake loose and fall away, but I couldn't care less.

Every once in a while, I could feel something hot spurt out deep inside me, the strokes of his cock spreading it out to mingle with my juices and make my passage even more slick. Feeling the spurting inside made me think of the real reason why we were doing this, and for a disconcerting second, all I wanted was to have him spurt inside me, again and again, filling up my belly as he bred me with his seed. For that strange moment, all I could think of was how much I wanted to be bred, how much I wanted to carry the pups of this virile white wolf thrusting inside me.

Even as I thought this, my eyes closed as I let the pleasure of his thrusts take over, I felt his hot breath against my neck. A moment later, his teeth nipped gently at a sensitive spot between my neck and shoulder, and I instinctively felt my thighs spread wider and my hips to gently change their angle as I heard his voice whisper in my ear.

"Cameron, I love you, I fucking love you, you feel so good, I'm sorry, but I'm gonna start pounding you now. I'm gonna knot you, and it's probably gonna hurt, but once it's inside you're going to feel a pleasure only a woman can know." In response, I wrapped my arms around him and leaned up to lick his muzzle, and our tongues quickly intertwined as his hips began to slam against mine, faster and faster, harder and harder.

Even as the overall tempo of the thrusts sped up, their cadence quickly began to change. The outward thrusts became quick, staccato jerks, followed by a solid thrust back in, one that lingered at the end of the stroke as his hips strived forward against mine. At the end of each thrust, I could feel his swollen knot pressing in hard against my outer lips, straining against them, and every few thrusts I could feel them give slightly with an incredibly warm stretching sensation. I could sense my tail flailing madly about beneath me, trying to somehow give voice to the incredible feeling of his cock pounding away inside me. Every thrust sent a powerful thrill through me, and after a few more solid thrusts we both had to break away from our sloppy, tongue-heavy kiss, panting and moaning only inches apart. Rowley's face was aroused and wild, saliva flecking the fur around his muzzle, but whatever he was feeling only seemed to make him pound more fiercely.

Suddenly, his arms reached up, pulling my arms apart from where they were intertwined around my neck, and slamming them back down against the desk above my head. My body jerked back from the sudden shift, my back arching and hips shifting, causing his cock to rub up against another exquisitely sensitive area. I didn't quite understand what he was doing, trying to move my arms back to embrace him, but his powerful hands gripped my wrists and held me down against the desk.

His head came back down beside mine, his breath blowing hot against my ear, as his pounding intensified. Now, his massive shaft was barely pulling out a few inches before slamming back in again, my body rocking against the desk from the power of each thrust. His cock pushed in deeper, deeper than I thought my passage even went, a good amount of the top part of his knot stretching my outer lips to what seemed like their absolute limit. Pleasure began to flash over to pain at the end of each thrust, and I became sure that some part of my stretched pussy was about to tear at any second. I struggled weakly against him, but his humping was driving me quickly towards another climax despite the bursts of pain, and the way he had me pinned, I knew that there was nothing at all I could do to stop him.

Feeling me struggle under him seemed to flip some kind of switch within him, as he brought more of his body down to pin my abdomen to the table, his words coming quick and bleeding together as he held my wrists down hard and snarled into my ear.

"Thassrightyafuckenbitch! Take it! Gunnamakeyascream, Gonna make you mine. Yermine, bitch. Goodlittlebitch. Goodlittlegirl. You know yerplace now, doncha? Yerrrplace is right here, underranice, strong wolflike me. Annnyouknowit. Yermyown personal bitch, now, youbelongta me, annimgonna fuck you so hard your pussy will never forget what it feels liketabe fucked by me. Now SCREAM!"

I started as his close whisper suddenly shifted to a yell, followed by a moment of utter agony as he shifted his weight and thrust in again as hard as he could, bringing his entire weight and power down behind the knot struggling against my impossibly stretched pussy. For a moment, I thought that something was going to tear for sure, but even as I screamed out in an incomprehensible mix of ecstatic agony, I felt a weird little ripple run around the periphery of my mound as something just inside me imperceptibly relaxed. Instead of tearing, the feelings flipped over to an incredibly powerful stretching and filling sensation, my pussy lips throbbing happily as the thickest part of the knot pushed in along their slick surface. Then everything shifted forward with a lurch, the knot wedging in firmly as my pussy lips clenched and spasmed around its base, the stretchy part of my passage just inside thrilling as the knot filled it. At the same time, the tip dug deep, pushing in through something strange deep within my belly, something I hadn't imagined was even part of sex, nestling warmly within it and gently stretching it, the heat inside building impossibly as his cock seemed to throb white-hot, pressing tight against every last bit of me.

There was literally nothing I could do now. My legs splayed wide around him, my inner walls beginning to flutter around his cock, the wonderfully intimate feeling of being knotted pushing me quickly and irrevocably towards orgasm. I let out a slow, sensuous moan beneath him, knowing that we were tied together now, that nothing could stop him from flooding my insides with his seed - and I realized that it was a wonderful feeling. It felt perfect to be under him, to be pinned, to be taken, to be thoroughly fucked and knotted and bred, to be...

"I'm your bitch," I breathed into his ear, my voice tremulous on the edge of orgasm, and the admission somehow pushed me over into release, my insides squeezing ecstatically against him as my pussy shuddered through an impossibly strong climax that seemed to flood my entire abdomen with incomprehensible pleasure before it rolled up my spine and along my extremities. Even as I felt my whole body trembling through orgasm beneath him, I heard him grunt oddly in my ear, his hips somehow trying to push in even closer as our fur intermingled. Then he let out an odd, choked little whine, and I felt his fuzzy balls twitch and tense up against my mound, even as he breathed into my ear.

"Cameron, I love you so much... You're mine... and I'm yoursssss... hahhh... mmmmh... gonna flood you now, we're gonna come together, oh holy fuck it's so good, oh myy gaaaaahhhhhh-"

His words choked off, and I felt his cock throb strongly inside me even as my walls pulsed back around it in a steady rhythm. Something hot and wet and intensely pleasant splashed up somewhere deep inside me - in my womb? - followed by another and another as the pulses of warmth and the throbbing of his cock built into a complementary rhythm of their own.

As he pulsed and came inside me, I watched as the last vestiges of the wild, animal tension drained from his face. His hands came away from my wrists, and instead wrapped gently around my back, pulling my trembling body up from the desk and holding me tightly to his chest. His strong arms managed to hold me up even as my own legs slackened their grip on him and fell down to either side, even while his fingers traced slow circles through my soft fur.

"Oh, Cameron, that was, that was..." he trailed off, his voice soft in my ear. I returned the embrace, my fingers digging in against his shirt, as I rested my head softly against his chest. My pussy was still twitching through the remainder of its orgasm, his pulses continuing to splash happily into my womb, and for the first time in what felt like ages, I actually felt... nice. Warm. Relaxed. Satisfied. Satiated. For the moment, heat felt like a distant memory, and all that was left was the nice feeling of being filled and comfortable and cradled in the arms of my lover. My manly white wolf. My teacher, but for the moment I couldn't care less about that.

Somehow, he managed to stumble around the desk while holding on to me, half-falling into his chair. We almost came apart for a moment, but the knot held us tightly together, pulling me down along with it. It pulled uncomfortably as we collapsed into the chair, but I quickly remedied that by settling comfortably into his lap and making sure that his warm, wet cock stayed nice and snug inside me - I wanted to enjoy that stretched and filled feeling as long as possible. I sighed as I settled into his arms, enjoying the feeling of him softly petting the fur down my neck and back, still thrilling at his touch and loving his embrace from both within and without. I had known that being a girl could feel good, in certain ways, but I could never have imagined that it felt this good. How good it felt to have a lover to lick and caress you, how good it felt to have a cock pounding inside you, how impossibly incredible it felt to be knotted, the fascinating inevitability of being filled, and tied, and bred. If this is what all girls go to go through, I wondered how jealous the boys would feel if they knew what we got to experience.

We snuggled in silence for a while, neither one of us seeming to want to talk much. Rowley, though, was the first to break the silence.

"My god, Cam, I don't... I can't even think of a way to describe how awesome that was. I, uh, I..." He trailed off, even as I could feel the skin on his chest flush with heat beneath his fur. "This, uh... what happened here, you're not, I... I didn't scare you too much, did I? I mean, I don't want to think that I really meant to force you, or-"

I cut him off by running my tongue along his neck, delighting in the shudder that I managed to elicit. "I don't care about that. You're right, you know - you may be a manipulative son of a bitch, but you're right. You had exactly what I needed, you told me exactly what I needed to hear, and I got exactly what I needed. I took it from you, not the other way around."

I looked up, watching him grin at my response. "Damn, girl! I can't argue with that. I gotta say I'm amazed, though - I thought maybe you'd come around, but I never thought you'd get this much confidence this fast. Somehow, I have a feeling that you're gonna be a real ball-buster once you grow into your own."

"And just think - you're the first person ever to see, and feel, the real me." I patted between us low on my belly, and I realized I could actually feel a bump where the knot pushed out against it. "Every part of me."

"Yeah, no kidding, and believe me, I am honored." Satisfied by his praise and acceptance, I snuggled back into his arms, vowing to enjoy every moment of our time together as his knot slowly retreated inside me.

After several more minutes, he was able to pull out, and as his cock slid out of me in one more pleasant stroke, it was quickly followed by copious amounts of a slick grey mixture that reeked of our powerfully combined scents.

I felt his legs move beneath me as his wheeled chair slid across the floor, and he broke his embrace to reach down for something. His hand came back up with the gym bag, and he retrieved a soft terrycloth towel from one of the side pockets and used it to mop away the cum that completely slicked my crotch and inner thighs. After he did so, he brought it up to his muzzle and inhaled deeply, sighing at the scent of our sex, his eyes closing for a moment of reminiscence before he brought the towel back down to clean up his own well-slicked crotch. I watched as the pink of the cock finished retreating and ducked back down into its furry sheath, and for a moment I felt an odd twinge of jealousy, but one that I was easily able to brush aside. I was willing to accept what I had now, and however much I I might have wanted to have a cock on me before, I now knew how much better it felt to have one in me - and I knew I could have as much of that as I wanted.

I got up off his lap, taking the gym bag along with me and setting it on the desk. Since the panties from before were now nothing more than shreds, and my previous ones were by now surely a crusty mess, I retrieved one of the other pairs from the gym bag. These ones were lavender, with the words 'Perfect Bitch" written in elaborate blue cursive along the front. I smiled at the inscription and pulled them on, as Rowley stumbled around on the other side of the desk to find his slacks.

I walked around the desk, looking at the jeans lying in a heap in the corner, and then at the crumpled shape of the miniskirt where it had somehow come off and fallen below the desk in the midst of our lovemaking. It didn't take me long at all to make a decision. I picked up the miniskirt, unfolded it and dusted it off, then snugged it back into place on my hips and zipped it tight. I followed it up with the corset, and as I slipped it on, I felt Rowley's hands behind me, quickly lacing it back up into place.

"Hmm, well isn't this interesting," Rowley said, admiring my new, if slightly more rumpled, look. "Not entirely surprising after what just happened, but... interesting."

"Well, like you said, I am a woman now." In every possible way, I thought. Well, except for one important one - the breasts I could care less about, but for some reason all that cum, still comfortably warm in my infertile womb, going to waste with no pups to show for it... although on the flip side, at least, it meant that I could have as much fun as I wanted without having to worry about becoming a mother too early. Or, sadly, at all.

"Oh, I know that for sure. If that's how it's going to be, then... what exactly will this incredible new woman's name be?"

"Don't see why I can't keep Cameron. It works just as good for a girl as Taylor or Clarence." Those two, of course, were the vaguely stuck-up girls who liked to gossip in the row behind me. I wondered what they would think of their looks when they saw me tomorrow.

"Heh, true enough." He watched me admiringly as I tracked down the wayward high heels. I put them on, and let him give me a quick, close hug and a deep tongue-caressing kiss. As he pulled back, he said, "So, I-I'll see you tomorrow?" I smiled, the smile becoming more intense, and just maybe a slight bit evil, as I thought of an appropriate response. As much as I had enjoyed it in the end, I still felt the need to pay him back from earlier, and I realized I had the perfect way to do it.

"Oh yes, Mr. Rowley, I'll be back tomorrow. And so will you. And when we do, you are going to do everything I ask you to do, in the way that I ask you to do it. There will be no more manipulation, no more subtle sleaziness, just you serving me. And do you know why you'll be doing this? Because your gift is still inside me. It'll be inside me, coming out, for a good long while. I'll certainly be able to collect enough of it, if I want to send a sample off to a DNA lab. And you calling me back here, all alone at night, and me being in possession of sperm that can be unquestionably tied to you... if it gets out, you know what it'll cost you. Your job, certainly. Your wife. Your kids, if you have any. Maybe even your freedom, if I spin it right. But I'm not going to extort you - I'm not even going to make you suffer. But while I'm in heat, and if I feel like it maybe after that, you're going to give me what I need, as much as I need."

I reached over and grabbed the gym bag, enjoying the stunned, blown-away expression on his face. He was right - I had real power now, and it felt so good to wield it.

I turned on my heel, giving him a nice view as I walked over to the door. As I opened it, though, I turned back, and gave the still-stunned Rowley another wide, dark grin. "You see, Mr. Rowley, it's true - I guess, in a way, you made me, and so in a way, I'm yours. But you, Mr. Rowley... from now on, you are most definitely mine."

I walked out, his cum still dripping out of me and into my panties, but despite all the craziness I held my head high. Somehow, through all of it, I had gotten exactly what I wanted, and I'd turned his manipulations on their head and had gotten to relish the look on his face when he'd realized it. Even as I walked out, I could hear him mumble "ball-buster" in an awed voice, but I knew I had him exactly where I wanted. Even without the threat, I knew that from now on there would be no way he could resist me.

I walked out the school's front door and down the steps, realizing as I did so that I'd left my jeans in Rowley's office. I was down a pair of jeans, but what did I care? Having them in his possession would only solidify his guilt, and increase the hold I had over him.

I made my way home, the streets mostly deserted at this time of night. The only people I saw were an elderly couple out walking, and as I walked past I quickly darted my head around, noticing that the grey-furred man's head had swiveled around in turn to admire my posterior. His head turned back quickly, though, as his wife slapped him across the cheek, but instead of guilt I could only feel pride. I walked home the rest of the way with a spring in my step, reveling in my newfound appearance. Oh, tomorrow would be interesting for sure. I realized, though, that I'd have to go shopping soon - I'd need a whole new wardrobe for what I had in mind. Nothing quite as salacious as what I now wore, of course - during normal hours those kinds of clothes would get me kicked off the school grounds. Even something more chaste, though, would definitely get the job done.

The house was quiet when I got back home - the lights were on in the entryway and kitchen, but nowhere else. My parents, I realized, were already in bed - I checked the clock, and it was now almost ten. I could smell the lingering scent of food still warming in the oven, but I found I wasn't really hungry - between the lingering heat and my newfound energy, I didn't feel any immediate need. I wrapped the food up and stuck it in the fridge, before heading up the stairs to get ready for bed myself.

When I got up to my room, I noticed that someone had come in and replaced the sheets on the bed, retrieving the others for washing. I stripped down fairly quickly, making sure to tuck away the new pair of panties, the crotch now thoroughly slick from my juices and his cum, away in my desk drawer for safekeeping. I ducked my head around the door and into the hall, but everything was quiet, and the door to my parents' room was closed. I quickly streaked across the hallway and into the bathroom, where I took a quick shower, followed by a quick brush-out of my fur; I had to spend a lot of extra time smoothing out the fur that ran along my thighs, matted as it was by the remnants of my encounter.

I looked over my naked body in the mirror, and this time I was able to not only accept but admire the way I looked. Every part was beautiful to me now, and even the stretched and gaping pussy lips that hung down slightly below my reddened mound still had a certain elegance about them. More than anything, they signified that I was a real woman now.

I snuck back over to my room, opening a drawer to find some panties to sleep in before thinking better of it. There were still a few pairs in the gym bag, and I grabbed a pair of pale yellow bikini-style panties that snugged on comfortably. After tossing the bag to the side, I flicked off the lights, jumping face-first onto the bed and lying atop the comforter as I snuggled against the pillows. I realized that I was more than tired from the day's events, but even so my heat was resurging just a bit. My legs shifted restlessly across the bed, quickly finding a spot where the comforter had bunched up, and I straddled it prone and humped my hips up against it until my pussy was thrumming nicely and I begin to drift off to sleep.

I was still semiconscious when I thought I heard the door creak open, and a vaguely familiar scent waft closer. Somehow, it felt like a dream, especially when a hand came down to pet gently along my fur. It was like something out of the past, a long-forgotten memory of when my Dad had come in after a terrible nightmare, his touch soothing against my fur as he petted me to sleep. It was a nice thing to think about, but I hadn't remembering him petting me quite as far down on my back before, and then just underneath my tail. I definitely hadn't remembered his gentle touch caressing my rump, and when the fingers slid under my panties and pushed intently between my ridges and into my entrance, I realized that it wasn't a dream.

I wanted to cry out, but before I could, a hand pushed against the back of my head and pressed my muzzle into the pillow. I heard someone shifting above me, and a moment later the weight of someone's body pressed down against the entire length of mine. They were naked, their fur intermingling with mine, and I could feel their cock tip clearly between my legs, its warmth intense where it poked in at my pussy through the thin fabric of my panties.

I tried to struggle, but strong hands reached out and grabbed my arms, deftly pulling them together behind my back. One hand grabbed across both my wrists, holding them in place, even as I recognized the unmistakable scent of the man on top of me. While I could have written off the earlier part as a dream, the scent left no doubt at all in my mind. The man on top of me was my father, and I knew exactly what he was going to do to me.

His hand released my head, but I was too stunned by the revelation to cry out. I lay still, confused and halfway terrified, as the hand grabbed the back part of the waistband and pulled the panties down off of my rear to expose my crotch. As the tip of the cock slid back down, resting between pussy lips that were still stretched and once again slick with moisture, I realized to my horror that I was also intensely aroused. My own father was about to plunge his cock inside me, and my body was eager to let him do it - even if he hadn't had me pinned down, I knew that my body probably would have let him take me anyway.

The hand came back up to hold my head in place, as his breath puffed hotly against the back of my head. "I'm sorry, Cam, I'm really sorry, but I just can't help it," he whispered into my ear. "You're in heat, and your mom isn't, and I just can't take it any more. I'm sorry you have to learn about being a woman this way, but I can't help it when you're like this. I'm sorry, but heat is a woman's responsibility, and a woman's burden. And right now, that burden falls on you. Get ready."

There was no foreplay, no ceremony - his hips pushed down above mine, and his cock slid easily into my depths, my heat-spawned juices quickly coating his entire length. He wasted no time getting up to speed, his humping frantic, his cock stroking quickly in and out of me as he pounded me down into the bed. Terrifyingly, after a handful strokes my surprised body relaxed and got into it, my panicked gasps and moans mmfing into the pillow as my body thrilled at being taken so roughly.

For a moment, all I could feel was the steady thrusting in and out, and everything felt dreamlike and surreal. Everything was too dark, too quiet - aside from the weight of him on me and the incessant thrusting, it didn't sound like anything I knew. The only sounds were the rhythmic creaking of the bed, ragged puffs of breath against my ear, my own muted noises, and a strange squelching noise that I quickly realized was the sound of him raping me.

I squirmed under him as his hips began to slam down even harder against my rump, but even the knotting was perfunctory - as stretched as my pussy lips were, and because his knot was somehow smaller than Mr. Rowley's, it only took four hammering thrusts before my lips gave way, a horrible wet popping sound emanating from behind me as the knot pushed in and he hilted me. I shuddered around the knot, the terror and confusion that my heat had not managed to dissipate intermingling with the inevitable close, filled feeling that was only moments away from driving me to orgasm. My own dad had watched me cum, earlier, and now he was literally going to feel me cum around him.

The inevitability of the realization brought the horror back to the forefront, as my mind somehow flashed through a moment of clarity and I became fully aware of the situation. My dad, my loving, caring, wouldn't-hurt-a-hair-on-my head dad had come into contact with my heat, and had seen me cum. As a result, he had just held me down and raped me, against my will. Actually, not even against my will. I'd simply laid there and let him take me, because I was in heat, and when a woman was in heat, being taken by a strong, virile man was never a bad idea. It wasn't just being a woman, I realized, that had power - heat, somehow, had a power all its own, and I now belatedly realized just how far that power extended even as my pussy happily climaxed around my dad's cock, throbbing as it milked it into the inevitable response.

My dad groaned, releasing my head, and I panted into my pillow as the climax rolled through my body. As it did, though, I heard something behind me, and a moment later the light clicked on, bathing the room in brightness. As my eyes blinked and tried to adjust to the light, I heard my mother gasp behind me, and I heard her scream my father's name with every ounce of anger she had, even as I felt the first guilty pulse of my dad's cum splash warmly deep inside me...