Dog Days of Summer Ch. 01

Foreword: This is a sequel to A Different Kind of Sex Toy (series page), and ties in directly with Harem Scarum. There are six chapters of about this length: three in Part 1 and three in Part 2. Part 1 will be posted close together, while Part 2 will be released after Harem Scarum is done.

Dog Days of Summer

Part 1: Bitches and Does

Chapter 1: In For a Penny, In For a Pound

Tuesday Evening (July 4)

Dana groaned and squeezed her eyes tightly shut, not wanting to see what new humiliation awaited her. She could hear growling and whining from nearby, most of it sounding canine, and the smell of fearful dogs was rank in her nose. Although her memories of her night as a dog were distorted and patchy, she could recall wandering aimlessly through a wealthy neighborhood, trying to find food but mostly knocking over garbage bins for whatever scraps they held. Her stomach rumbled and she dry-heaved a couple of times, but then her nausea subsided. She had an inexplicably crystal-clear recollection of smelling another bitch in heat from one of the fenced estates she'd eventually strayed into. A large kennel had held perhaps ten or a dozen dogs, all of whom seemed madly excited by her presence, possibly being affected by her pheromones.

In the midst of trying to find a way into the kennel, Dana had felt a stinging pain in her haunch and looked back to see a syringe stuck in her leg, which her human mind assumed was a tranquilizer dart. Human voices were soon talking nearby, and she remembered the feeling of being picked up, but after that was mostly darkness and terror. Before succumbing completely to the induced stupor, she'd been very slightly relieved that she'd been prevented from her attempts to cavort with the other animals, as the probable outcome of that encounter was too horrifying for her to contemplate.

Still, it was clear that she'd been put someplace with other animals nearby, although the smells of her current cohorts were markedly different from the pure-bred group of the night before. Finally daring to open her eyes the tiniest little sliver, Dana saw that she was in a large cage in a plain room, with quite a few other enclosures of various sizes. Hers was set on the concrete floor, although some of the smaller ones appeared to be on shelves or tables. Perhaps a third of them were occupied with what she assumed were other stray dogs. "No!" she thought. "Not 'other' dogs! You're not a fucking dog! At least, not usually." She whimpered in a very canine fashion then, which did little to make her feel better.

Dana's stomach rumbled again, feeling extremely empty, but there was no food in sight. Her eyes landed on a rectangular tray attached to the cage that appeared to hold water, which made her suddenly realize she was also desperately thirsty. She tried for a few seconds to unfasten the clips holding it in place, wanting to pick it up to take a drink, but the wires of her prison prevented her from being able to do so. Reluctantly, but not willing to use her filthy hands to scoop it up, she lowered her head and began slurping up the tepid liquid, feeling disgusted and degraded.

Thirst quenched, Dana examined her cage more closely, hoping to find a way to escape, but it was clearly built to hold a powerful animal and resisted her attempts to damage it. The ceiling was too low to allow her to stand up, and there wasn't much room to turn around in either, although she could accomplish it by contorting herself and rolling. The door to her prison, as well as the other large cages, appeared to be fastened with some kind of padlock. "Well, this is just fucking marvelous," she snarled, slapping her hands on the thick metal strands enclosing her, letting loose with a scream of rage and frustration. Many of the other prisoners began howling in fright or sympathy.

The yell had been slightly cathartic, and it had steeled Dana's resolve not to break down into tears. With nothing better to do, she set about examining herself to see if she'd retained any canine features. She thought she looked fully human again, albeit a very dirty human with more hair than was fashionable. Dana grimaced at noticing that her pubes seemed even thicker and wilder than the night before, and extended further onto her belly and legs than she was accustomed to. The hair on her arms and legs also appeared thicker than usual, and although she'd rarely had armpit hair since puberty started, she thought those seemed extra-bushy as well. Her lip curled when she detected several fine hairs in the vicinity of her nipples and sternum. Wincing with pain as she plucked one, she glared at it like a hated enemy before letting it waft away on the breeze.

Dreary time passed slowly for Dana as she waited to be discovered, wondering how she could possibly explain her situation to whatever person showed up to feed or care for the dogs. She deduced that she'd been picked up by Animal Control, or handed over to them at least, and taken to the pound or some kind of animal shelter. She fingered the collar she was still wearing, wondering if it might have saved her life, since it implied she was an escaped pet rather than a stray or feral dog. Lost in idle thoughts, it took her a little while to notice that the anxiety level of her fellow inmates had spiked, and a few seconds longer to realize that there were footsteps coming down a hallway outside the door to the room. Some of the captive dogs tried to retreat to a corner of their cages, while others pushed against the fronts in eager anticipation; Dana was one of the latter.

Moments later came the sound of keys jangling in a lock, and the door swung wide open. A young woman wearing greenish scrubs wheeled a cart into the room and merrily greeted them, "Hey there, doggies! I bet you're all hungry this morning, aren't you?"

"Please let me out of this cage!" cried Dana, shocking the other woman so badly that she slipped and lost control of the trolley, sending it banging into one of the cages and setting off another round of fearful baying and whining.

Getting to her hands and knees, the strange woman peered into Dana's eyes from the same level, with astonishment plain to read on her face. "How the fuck did you wind up in there?" she screeched.

"There's been some kind of mistake!" Dana said, still not sure what to tell the woman, or how much to reveal of her predicament. She didn't get a chance to elaborate, however, before she was interrupted.

"A mistake?" the other woman shrieked, still looking bewildered. "Whose fucking mistake was it? Is this some kind of a prank? Did you try to break in here to release the dogs? Or is this some kind of publicity stunt? Is that why you're wearing a collar?"

Quickly deciding that the publicity stunt seemed like the least illegal idea, Dana tried to come up with a believable story on the fly. "Uh, yeah! My group is trying to draw attention to, um, the stray animals problem! We were just going to take pictures but my friends got scared off and left me here!"

Finally getting to her feet, the strange woman brushed off her clothes and yelled, "Well, serves you right for breaking and entering! And I'm tired of hearing people complain about how we treat animals! We do the best we can with the money we have! And this is a no-kill shelter! Why not protest the ones that put animals down, if you're some kind of advocate!"

"I'm sorry!" said Dana, completely sincere even if she wasn't referring to the same thing. "Will you please let me out now? I promise we won't mess with you again!"

"I think I'll just leave you in the cage until the police can come and collect you," the other woman said coldly.

"No, please! Don't call the police, I beg you!" Dana wailed fearfully. "I didn't steal anything or break anything, I promise!"

"Maybe you didn't," scoffed the stranger, "But whoever was with you that locked you in there stole somebody's keys, and I'm not gonna take your word for it that that's all they swiped."

Frustrated that her hasty lie was already unraveling, Dana whined, "Please, no. I promise everything else is fine. Please, just go check and see before you have me arrested. I'm sorry for trespassing, but I don't want to go to jail."

Eying the captive speculatively, the caretaker finally said, "Okay, I'll go look around first. I'll decide on whether or not the police need to get involved after I check the security feed and get a look at your accomplices."

Horrified at the idea of what the cameras might show, Dana started to protest, but the woman was already walking out of the room. "Zip it, bitch!" she said as she closed the door.

~~~

Miguel reclined on his bed and stared at the ceiling, dappled with morning light leaking through his windows. Monday had been filled with one frustration after another. He'd spent the entire afternoon trying to track down Dana, whom he'd assumed had been arrested as part of the orgy in the park, but with a complete lack of success. He'd finally concluded that she must have escaped or wandered off before the police had arrived, but with her phone still in his car he had no way of contacting her. In the early evening he'd gone to her apartment, but her roommate Stacia claimed she hadn't seen Dana in days, and didn't seem the least bit upset about it. She had at least grudgingly agreed to call him if Dana showed up.

Thinking it pointless to cruise around looking for his errant girlfriend, especially after the sun went down and presumably had turned her into a dog, Miguel went back to the house of the jogging woman he'd felt compelled to fuck repeatedly on Sunday night. He'd left her in what he proudly considered to be a banged-out stupor Monday morning, but his expectation that she'd be happy for a repeat performance was sadly misguided. The woman, whose name he still didn't know, screamed at him through the door she refused to open, and threatened him with the cops if she ever saw him again. Miguel had experienced a brief urge to ram her door down and force her to submit to him, but, horrified at his dark impulse, he'd instead retreated quickly, shaken and worried about his increasingly animalistic behavior.

The one bright spot had been the sudden nonchalance of his roommates when he'd wandered into their apartment, still completely naked. They had been at best extremely uncomfortable about his nudity that weekend, even threatening to kick him out of the place, but other than averting their eyes from him, they now seemed unconcerned about his lack of clothes. He'd belatedly realized that it must have been related to whatever power Cassie had that allowed her to wander around naked without anyone seriously objecting. Thankful for that small silver lining, he'd been on the point of calling up the redhead to see if she wanted to fuck, but with Dana lost and transformed, he worried that it would seem uncaring or callous. He'd eventually gone to bed, but tossed and turned all night from a mix of anxiety, irritation, and horniness.

Despite the lack of contact from Stacia, Miguel decided his best bet was to head back to Dana's apartment that morning and wait there, thinking she'd have to eventually return. Smirking at his discomfited roommates on the way out, the stag man found himself strutting as he walked to his car, feeling like the other guys were behaving subordinately to him, as befit lesser males.

Stacia was once again the only roommate at home, and she reluctantly agreed to let Miguel hang out for a while. "Okay, but only until lunchtime, unless Dana shows up first," she said, frowning. "I have plans with some friends, and I'm not comfortable leaving you here by yourself."

Affronted, Miguel said, "Well, what about your other roommate, Elena? Where's she?"

"Gone until tomorrow," Stacia said dismissively. "Went home for the holiday." Apparently not wanting to make small talk, the woman busied herself doing chores while Miguel sat on the couch and tried not to act petulant. He scrolled on his phone absently, not really taking in much of what he was reading. He gradually came to realize that he was smelling something very enticing, but so faintly it took him a while to be sure what he was responding to. His first thought was that Stacia was cooking something, but when his member started hardening, he realized it wasn't food he was reacting to. Sniffing the air, hoping to recognize the aroma, he suddenly knew that it was coming from the girl herself as she wandered back into the living room.

Stacia was coated in a light sheen of sweat from the mild exertion of whatever she had been doing, but something about her odor was really setting Miguel off. Her scent was unique yet familiar in some way, and with sudden insight, he connected the enticing tang as being very similar to the way the jogger had smelled to him, but that so far other women had not. Whatever it was, the subtle fragrance had his dick swollen and hard, and he groaned with need. His hostess glanced over at him with irritation that quickly morphed into shock at the sight of his stiff member, accompanied by a gasp and the words, "Oh, fuck!"

His voice sounding low and rough, Miguel said, "Dana told me she fucked you the other day." Stacia's expression showed a mix of annoyance and embarrassment, but as her mouth opened to make some angry retort, he continued, "She was shocked. Didn't know why it happened, but she said she'd always thought you were kind of a homophobe."

"Just because I don't like la pepita doesn't make me a homophobe!" she hissed furiously.

"Does that mean you like this?" Miguel asked thickly, stroking his erection slowly. He was pleased to see Stacia's eyes drawn to the movement, and to hear her breath hitch as a drop of precum glistened on the tip. "I think you do," he said in a slow voice, tied to the rhythm of his pumping hand. "I think you want it. I think you want to remind yourself what a real man feels like."

Stacia looked him in the face and tried to be defiant, but he was confident that she was interested. "What makes you think you're a real man?" she asked, although her eyes were bright as they returned to his throbbing cock, and she licked her lips, perhaps without realizing it.

"You're looking at it," he answered. "Go ahead and touch it," he offered, moving his hand down to his balls. "I can tell you're angry with Dana still. What better revenge can you imagine?" said Miguel slyly, although it made him feel a twinge of guilt and shame again. He was moments away from succumbing to his second thoughts about the infidelity when Stacia reached out and stroked his erection lightly with her fingers. It was his turn to gasp reflexively, and his girlfriend's roommate actually giggled when his manhood twitched. All thoughts of repentance, or of leaving the apartment, were forgotten.

The dam in her resolve apparently broken, Stacia began eagerly licking and sucking on Miguel's dick, although she couldn't fit much of it into her mouth. Still, she was an accomplished fellatrix, and Miguel's burgeoning shame had quickly morphed into guilty pleasure, and the guilt receded as he told himself that this was his due, and that if Dana was too busy acting like a whining bitch then she'd be treated like one. He had a sudden mental picture of her locked in a cage like an animal, being forced to watch him service his harem, and it set him off.

A huge gush of cum erupted from Miguel's cock, catching Stacia completely by surprise. She choked a little when a couple of jets landed in her mouth, but since she'd been working the shaft with her hands and lips, most of his seed wound up on her face and hair, not to mention her shirt.

"So you're a minute-man, huh?" she sneered scornfully, wiping at the mess on her face and then quietly cursing when she saw the stains on her blouse.

Something in Miguel snapped and he pushed the girl away somewhat roughly, but far from being hard enough to cause injury or even real pain. Stacia started to object, but the stag man ripped her shirt off, scattering buttons across the floor, exposing a thin undershirt partially covering a plain bra. She gasped in shock, but her angry retort was cut off by Miguel's rapidly revitalizing erection, which distracted and confused the girl. "Don't you worry, la cierva, you won't have to wait long to get what you want."

Her lust apparently rekindling almost as fast as his hard-on, Stacia quickly removed her shirt and bra while Miguel tugged down her shorts and panties, exposing the girl's wispy dark curls and flushed labia. Although she seemed to be expecting missionary sex, the stag man flipped her over as if she were weightless and grabbed her hips, pulling them up to meet his own. He stabbed at her opening with his cock a few times before he slid inside her wet folds. Stacia grunted at the abrupt intrusion, but began moaning as he worked his way deeper into her sex. Miguel grumbled with mild irritation to discover that she couldn't accommodate his full length internally, but the inability to bury himself completely only detracted slightly from his enjoyment of fucking the woman.

Knowing that he could cum as often as he wanted, Miguel made no effort to pace himself, and simply rammed his doe as hard and as fast as he could. He paid little attention to whether or not Stacia was enjoying it, but from the passionate sounds she was making, he assumed she had no complaints. He allowed himself to orgasm after only a few minutes of thrusting, but his erection merely subsided to semi-hardness briefly before he willed it back to full rigidity. His partner moaned with disbelief and pleasure as he pounded her to a climax of her own soon thereafter.

It was only as he released a second load of semen into Stacia's depths that Miguel finally had an epiphany about what he was doing, and what it had to do with the alluring scent the girl was giving off. Although he didn't know why he was so certain, he was confident that Stacia was ovulating, as had been the mysterious jogger. Somehow he could detect it from the way they smelled, and it filled him with an overpowering lust: a need to breed them. With a growling yell, Miguel pumped his potent seed into the young woman and said, "I'm gonna put a fawn in you!"

~~~

Penny closed the door to the kennels and slumped against it, breathing heavily. Her breasts felt heavy, and she could tell her nipples were rigidly erect, although her thick bra was padded specifically to help hide their perkiness. Her knees were wobbly, and it was almost a full minute before she felt sufficiently steady to make her way to the break room, where the small monitor would allow her to check the CCTV feeds from the handful of security cameras the shelter used. Her stomach roiled with a mixture of lust and anxiety. She was terrified that the naked woman in the kennel was some kind of prank played by her coworkers, who often teased her for not being interested in dating men or women, and sometimes snidely suggested she preferred dogs, since she spent so much time with them.

Penny loved dogs, certainly, as well as most other kinds of animals, but she had no sexual interest in them. But her secret shame, which she had confessed to exactly one person in her life, was that she found the idea of people being treated like animals, or even better, willingly acting like animals, insanely arousing. The revulsion expressed by her one confidante, the man she had been dating while studying to be a vet technologist, had scarred her badly enough that she still hadn't ventured back into the dating pool two years later. Seeing the strange woman, naked and collared and caged, had made Penny nearly cream her panties, at least until the implications hit her.