Morning Heat 1

Megan sleepily opened her eyes and stretched. The warmth in her room told her that the sun had beaten her out of bed by a few hours already.

What time is it... 10 o'clock? 11? Mmmf I should probably get up.

As she rolled to one side to check the time on her mobile, her stockinged legs smoothed silkily against one another...

Wait a second...

She stopped, baffled. Her nose wrinkling as the hint of a frown formed on her brow.

I don't...

Her left hand tentatively reached below the covers and alighted on her leg.

Stockings!? But I don't sleep in...

As her fingertips traced their way up her leg, slow realisation began to blossom in her mind as the rest of her senses began to check in. The bed was warm... not just that, she was warm, hot in fact, and there was something... something around her neck. She was just reaching up with her right hand to touch it when her left hand reached the top of her stocking and...

GARTERBELT!?

Her right hand came to rest on her neck...

Collar.

Mmmmmmmmmm.

Shivers ran through her.

Already guessing the answer to her next question, she allowed her fingers to stroke sideways from her thigh along the top of her stockings to her...

Underwear...? No. Of course not.

So...

She'd gone to bed in a collar, stockings, garterbelt and nothing else... but why? She cast her mind back to the night before and...

Heat filled her.

No. Hot!

Her hands were suddenly roving over her body, moving as though they had a mind of their own. Her fingertips tracing over the leather collar round her neck, her palms stroking over her collarbones, her fingernails tracing sensual grooves of deep desire down towards her....

Wait. No.

Her head cleared for a moment, and her hands seemed to come back under her control.

Okay... so...

She'd gone to bed wearing this after...

NO. HOT.

This time it took her longer to recover.

With some conscious effort she pried her hands from her breasts and stuffed them below the covers twisting her fingers through the bedsheets. If her nipples hadn't been hard a moment ago, they were very much rigid now. Her cheeks flushed.

Okay... someone's been playing games with my mind... As long as I don't think about what happened last night I'll be fine. Just don't think about last night. Simple. Don't try and remember it... Don't try to think about it. Don't. Try. To. Try... Try to remember last nighohhhhshiiiiiiiii...

When she came to her senses again, the blush in her cheeks burned even more furiously as she realised just where her fingers had been probing.

She withdrew them and exhaled, realising she'd been holding her breath... biting her lip... for some time.

She reached round the back of her neck to find the buckle on the collar to undo it.

What the...

There was no buckle.

There's GOT to be one. How else did I get it on?

Her fingers fumbled ineffectually for a few moments, trying to find something that didn't seem to be there... it was making her hotter... more frustrated... and more aroused.

What she needed was a distraction... and quite possibly a cold shower.

She rolled out of bed and landed on all fours awkwardly with a huff.

Huh?

Perplexed by her lack of balance, she pawed herself up on the edge of a bed to get herself into a standing position... slowly she unbent her knees, extending her legs and... landed on all fours awkwardly with a huff.

"Rowf!?" she woofed quizzically, before crossing her eyes in surprise at the sound coming out of her own mouth.

What the??

"Wufff!! Grrrrr. Barrowwff!?" she growled.

WOOF? Why can't I...

Clad in garterbelt, stockings, and collar, she padded over to the mirror with some trepidation, unsure of what she might find.

Taking in her reflection, she was relieved to find herself physically the same shape that she went to bed as. Same 21 year old university student Megan. Same brown hair, same bangs, same big brown eyes, looking a little more chipper and mischievous than she felt inwardly... or at least... than she thought she felt.

She looked at her reflection suspiciously.

What do *you* know that I don't?

There was something about her expression that seemed... wrong though. She turned her head left then right, trying to work out what it was. She curiously regarded herself, examining her collar, her face, her lips. She bared her teeth and growled softly, then opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out at mirror-Megan for a moment, only... only once she'd done that... she couldn't work out how to make her tongue go back into her mouth.

She began to pant happily.

THAT was better!

Wait what!? NonoNO! That's not better! That's not better at all!

She spent a moment trying to force her tongue to retract back into her mouth, the more she tried to though, the more pronounced her panting grew.

Oh this is ridiculous. Wait... am I drooling?

Not only that, but she was moving... swaying... her exposed breasts shimmying from side to side as her body swayed she was...

Oh For Goodness Sake Megan, you're wagging your arse like you've got a TAIL!

She let out an involuntarily whimper and let her face flump to the floor in frustration onto her crossed arms.

Her butt continued to wag, back legs planted wide, her bare "region" enjoying it's exposure to the room, the feel of the air wafting against her as she swayed herself from side to side, making her feel so good as her pussy playfully wiggled this way then that as she wagged happily, hornily from side to side to...

CONTROL YOURSELF MEGAN!

She yelled inwardly. Though this outwardly translated into canine as:

"Rowfffle heh howoooooo!!" followed by some more happy panting.

Her head snapped up in annoyance and she shot herself a disapproving look in the mirror. The expression on her face quickly began to morph into one of eager arousal and playfulness though. She tried in vain to fight it for a few seconds but it was futile.

Some powerful compulsion was taking over her body. Making her act like a puppy. Overriding any attempt she made to compose herself.

Giving into it for a moment she found herself snuffling excitedly around her bedroom. Padding over to her computer desk. Exploring. Investigating. She stuck her head between the legs of her chair and sniffed inquisitively at some balled up fabric that had been discarded beside her seat.

Wait a minute...

She began nuzzling at the material like a questing puppy, unfolding it with her nose, uncovering it's size, it's shape. Black. Lace. The aroma of own arousal permeating it was unmistakeable.

Oh nonono, those are my...

Before she knew what she was doing, her panties were grasped firmly between her teeth and she was growling happily as she whipped her head from back and forth like she was savaging a favourite toy. With a concerted effort she managed to fling her underwear to one side... only for instincts to kick in, as almost immediately she was pouncing on it with triumph as though it were some kind of prize. Gripping it clumsily between her paws...

Not Paws. Hands. I have Hands!

...she threw them up in the air and tried to catch them in her mouth. They landed on her face obscuring her vision. Twin feelings of delight at this wonderful game and cringing embarrassment at her insane behaviour vied for supremacy within her, as shaking her head, her panties slid from her face and hooked onto one ear.

It was then that her phone rang.

She snuffled her way towards it, pawing it down from her bedside cabinet. His name lit up the screen.

HIM! Of course it will have been him that's done this to me. Hypnotic Bloody Bastard!

Clumsily, she hit the answer button with one of her claws...

Fingers, they're fingers!

... and lowered one ear to the phone. The panties hooked round her other ear slid back down over her eyes again.

The closest she could manage to hello was "Baroo?" but that seemed to do the trick.

Him: "Good Morning Puppy! I trust you slept well?"

Never mind that! Why am I acting like a dog?

*Happy panting* "Rfff Ruffff!" *More happy panting*

Him: "And don't you sound adorable!"

Patronising smug son of a...

Him: "Who's a GOOD GIRL puppy."

Ohhhhhhh that feels so good. Mmmmmmmmm.

Momentarily, her inner puppy gained almost total control at being called a good girl. She leapt on the bed, barking, bouncing, wagging her butt and chasing her non-existent tail.

One of her pillows bounced free from the bed in the ruckus. She dove off the mattress after it and began biting it, chewing it, snuggling into it, before noticing to her embarrassment that she was beginning to dry hump it.

On the phone, she could hear his voice indistinctly, Master was saying something.

Noooooo he's not my Master. He's just a devious hypnotic git.

But she could feel another voice growing in her mind. Trying to form words. The voice of the puppy, and it was getting more and more persistent.

(He is a good Master!)

No he's not!

(I am a good puppy for him.)

No I'm nottttttttt.

She growled at her inner turmoil, before giving a bark to let him know she was back.

Him: "Growling eh? Does little Miss Megan not like being a horny sex puppy?"

No you blithering tit, how the hell do I get back to normal?

Whilst it was mainly barking, woofing and snuffling, her final "Howoooh?" definitely sounded like a question.

Him: "I suppose you're wondering how to get back to normal?"

Yes! Tell me what I need to do!

Him: "It's quite simple. Just allow things to take their course."

What? But that doesn't tell me anything.

Him: "Last night you were right. You certainly seem to be enjoying yourself now."

Last Night? Ohhhhh lassst niiiiiighhhh mmmmmmmmmm.

Him: "There's a GOOD GIRL. Speak soon."

And with that, he hung up.

Whichever post hypnotic suggestion he'd left her with when it came to trying to recall the previous night's events, started working overtime the moment he called her a Good Girl again.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

For a moment the intense excitement from it all was more than her conscious mind could handle. Everything that was Megan blanked out.

(I am a Good Girl. I am a Good Puppy. Puppy is horny for Master. Good Girl. Good Girl loves Master. Master is owner. Puppy is pet. Puppy is horny. Puppy loves Master. Puppy wants to play.)

When she came to, her cunt was a burning well of desire and need. She had it pressed against the moulded wooden leg of her bed and was excitedly dragging herself up and down its deliciously ribbed carvings. The animalistic noises she found herself making could barely be called human any more, and the discovery that she'd decided to once more chew on her sodden panties only made her humiliation and the arousal more exquisite

She made a half-hearted attempt to pull away from the bed-leg, but her body's response was so sluggish and disinterested in stopping that it barely felt like her own any more. An involuntary low howl of pleading desire spilled from her mouth as though she was crying. As though she *needed* this.

"How How Howwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww"

I don't believe it. He's turned me into a bitch on heat.

His words came back to her. "Allow things to take their course..."

The clever bastard's set me a trap. I don't have any other choice, do I.

Oh well...

Screw it.

Finally surrendering, she allowed herself to back right against the bed once more.

(Meg is a Good Girl for Master?)

Yes. For now. Meg is a Good Girl for Master.

(Good Girl Meg! Good Girl loves Master!?)

Oh I don't know about *that*... but he certainly makes waking up interesting...

Now...

What did he have me doing last nigghhhhhhhhMMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmm

As she finally reached sweet climax, her body bucked, her back arched, and the howls rose in her mouth once more, though they were somewhat muffled by the panties still clenched between her teeth.

For the time being... she was almost happy she had them.