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Animal Ordeals ....(76k)    by Joseph Didion

INTRODUCTION

Sadistic bestiality as a spectator sport has fallen into a decline in the last thousand years or two. There are still a few whorehouses in remote corners of the semicivilized world where one can see young girls being licked and pricked by large hound dogs, or slack-titted trollops having their outsized twat shafts reamed by rearing Shetland ponies, but it's not the sort of thing that one can readily run across in twentieth century America.

However, the fact that nobody is advertising such shows in the entertainment pages of the daily paper or in your friendly yellow pages doesn't mean that they've ceased to exist. And apart from the matter of public bestiality exhibitions for profit, there are great numbers of women walking our streets today who, believe it or not, get their principal sexual enjoyment out of having their tender bodies licked and nuzzled and nibbled and plowed by animals of various kinds-dogs, cats, monkeys, and a few other varieties of bird, beast and reptile that might astonish the conventional mind.

This generally tends to be the masochistic type of woman-one who enjoys lovemaking only when it is accompanied by physical abuse and degradation. Just as many women will seek out men of low social class, men who are dirty and uneducated, men of gross habits and repulsive appearance, and then revel in being beaten, insulted, pissed and shit upon, and fucked and sodomized with a maximum of violence, so such women might crave degradations even beyond those that men can inflict, and turn to hairy beasts to do the job of complete debasement that their sick desires demand.

Even in ancient times, the spectacle of women consorting with wild animals was by no means confined to the arenas. In Rome, at the same time that Christians were being raped by apes and torn apart by lions in the coliseum for the enjoyment of the blood-lusting crowds, aristocratic ladies in their own boudoirs, always looking for new methods of sexual debauch, and having exhausted every sexual possibility that two or more humans can do to one another, turned to home bestiality for their private kicks. Running snakes up the cunt-track was a rather common pastime, especially in the warm weather season, when it was supposed to have a cooling and therapeutic effect. Monkeys were also favorite sporting partners, and an especially clever monkey with a talent for human-fucking was a cherished household pet that might be lent out to one's special friends for the sake of spreading the bestial joy around.

One Senator's wife, grown tired of monkeys, snakes and dogs, reportedly gave herself up one day to the furry embrace of her pet cheetah. It is not reported whether or not she succeeded in achieving the new kind of orgasm she was looking for, but she did wind up in a badly mangled and chewed condition and lived only a few hours afterward. And the poor unsuspecting cheetah, who must have been pretty bewildered by the whole affair, was put to death for his "crime."

But of course the most spectacular and creative spectacles of bestiality ever staged in history, probably, were those in the Roman arena. Animal shows were by far the most, popular presentations on the coliseum schedule in those days, far ahead of chariot races or gladiator combats in crowd appeal.

Sometimes simple rape was involved, as when a hundred naked young girls on one notable occasion were tied in spread-eagled positions all around the arena, and then were fucked simultaneously by a hundred wild baboons.

But the crowd expected more than just sex, even of this bizarre kind-they demanded blood and violence for their money. And so the performance usually would end with the girls' bodies being torn apart and devoured by the lust-crazed beasts.

At other times nude girls were tied onto the horns of wild oxen, who would rampage around the arena, fighting with one another, tossing their heads, stabbing with their horns, until the girls' bodies finally would be knocked loose, and then dragged about in the dust and trampled and gored to lifelessness while the blood-hungry crowd screamed its delight.

It has been two thousand years since the world has seen such mass spectacles of cruel bestiality. Bullfights are the closest we come today to it, but of course in the bullring cruel and bloody death comes only to the bull and he doesn't even have the fun of tossing a nude girl around on his horns the way his ancestors used to do. Even for bulls the fun has gone out of life.

The Marquis d.e Sade once suggested that it would be fit and proper to revive blood-and-guts bestiality spectacles in the modern day, with volunteer maidens being ravished and mauled about by savage beasts. He offered the opinion that "such spectacles would only be revolting because our eyes are not accustomed to them." Perhaps, he suggested, there would be a therapeutic effect in such public displays, and many who now commit sadistic atrocities in private might find enough satisfaction for their sick lusts in watching the bestial shows, so that they would not be driven to commit their private crimes against innocent persons.

One thing seems sure. If the law were to allow such public displays today of women being mauled and raped by lustful beasts, the promoters of the spectacles would not only have no trouble at all in rounding up audiences of blood-lusting spectators to fill their arena, but they also would have no trouble in finding women who were willing and eager to play the parts of the helpless bestiality victims. For there is no lack in the present-day world of women who yearn to be degraded and violated in the most humiliating and brutal ways by slobbering beasts of whatever kind. Their most orgiastic dreams are of being carried off by King Kong-type apes, crushed in two-ton furry embraces, and impaled on the meat-end of bludgeon pricks such as no man ever owned.

There is no doubt that several of the girls whose cases are described in these pages would be among the first to volunteer their tender bodies and hungry holes for such an arena spectacle if it existed, for these are women who yearn with the deepest kind of hunger for the perverse gratifications of BRUTE SEX.

-The Publisher

Chapter One

Sideshow Sexpot

What drives a woman to seek out sexual gratification with a hairy beast instead of a fellow human? Many different reasons actually. Some try it once or twice with a small, docile, relatively harmless household pet type of animal just out of curiosity-to see what it's like. Some might want to have a whirl with an animal just for the sake of a new kick-having tried every form of human sexual coupling that they have ever heard of and grown bored with such conventional fuckings.

But then there are women who genuinely crave some bizarre satisfaction that only the slobbering mouth or the driving penis of an animal can provide. A rough hairy man with a big bludgeon of a prick is not rough enough or hairy enough or big-pricked enough or bestial enough to satisfy their need-only a genuine specimen of beast will suffice.

Gloria, the girl in the following case, is of this sort. At a rather early age in life she had run through all the standard sexual experiences of the modern liberated teen-ager, and in some way she became obsessed with the notion of exploring the cunt-tickling possibilities in bestial relationships. Joining up with a touring carnival animal show, she found opportunities beyond her wildest dreams, along with fame and glory of a sort.

Jay McT., barker and animal handler for a chimpanzee and snake show in the carnival, tells the story of Gloria's up and down career in his own words, and I have set it down here just as it was related to me.

Case 1 Gloria B.

Working around circus and carnival sideshows, you get to meet some pretty weird freaks, and I'm not talking about the ones that are on display inside the tents-the Indian rubber man, the tattooed lady, and that kind of shit- I'm talking about the general public-the weirdos that come wandering onto the lot looking for some kind of far-out kicks to feed their sick needs. You wouldn't believe the strange ones that have come my way over the years. And for some reason it seems to be chicks more often than guys that are drawn to the carny midways, in search of God knows what kind of freak sensations, usually of the sex variety.

Of course some of them aren't all that far-out -just hot-pants teen-age girls looking to get humped by some young stud that works around the grounds. But I'm talking more about the ones that are anxious to satisfy a real weird secret urge, like sucking off the Indian rubber man, or getting balled by a clown with all his funny makeup on or, weirdest of all, the sickies that want to get their jollies with the animals in the menagerie.

With a lot of them it's no very big deal. Any circus man or zoo attendant can tell you about the kind of broad that just likes to hang around the animal cages for hours on end, looking and sniffing mostly, but always hoping they'll see a gorilla get a hard-on, or a chimpanzee fucking his mate, or even a lion taking a torrential piss is enough to turn them on and set them up for a masturbation session when they get home, I guess. I don't know how else they work off the pressures, unless they keep a woolly dog around the house to do service in that area.

Once in a while you'll get a bolder one-a chick who'll come right up to you and ask about making some kind of a sexual contact with one of your animals. Usually they'll pretend they're just kidding at first until they find out how you take it, but not always. I've had dames ask me right out if they could come around after hours and get in the cage with this or that animal that caught their fancy. "What for?" I always ask them, pretending to be real innocent. Usually they'll say, "Oh, I just want to hug him and feel his, woolly fur rubbing all over me," but one old cunt about sixty one time actually admitted what she had in mind was sucking the gorilla's weenie for him. "Lady, he'd tear you apart," I told her, but she didn't seem to care whether he did or not. So I said, "It's okay with me, ma'am, but the only thing is, I'd be the one that'd have to clean out the cage afterwards, and I got too much to do around here as it is without sweeping up a lot of loose parts of a dismantled female."

And that's as far as it ever went, until one day in a little town in Ohio where we were doing a week's stand one summer-a little shitty carnival I spent a couple of seasons with once when times were rough. I was barking for a monkey and snake show-the monkeys wore lit- tie derby hats and rode bicycles and shit like that, and the snakes just lay around in their cages and looked mean. Pretty crappy show for fifty cents, and I'd had about six fucking customers all day long. I was just on the verge of closing up shop and going for some chow.

Then all of a sudden this fantastic young chick came ambling out of nowhere and stood there awhile listening to my spiel. Since there was nobody else around, I aimed it straight at her, just showing off a little before I switched to a personal pitch and invited her to stick around later for a little private sideshow with just the two of us in my trailer. I figured I had an educated snake of my own that just might interest her.

After awhile she gives me this real big sweet smile and says, "I'd love to see your show, but I don't have no fifty cents on me."

I gave her a grin and a wink and slipped her a ticket. "You're a guest of the management," I told her, "and since it's closing time, I'll escort you inside personally."

Well, I got no arguments from her, and we went on in arm-in-arm. I was really congratulating myself, figuring I'd set myself up for tonight and maybe all the rest of the week here in town, if I played my cards right. The way she latched onto my arm and started bumping boobs against me as we walked, I had to figure this was one of the warm and friendly kind. Gloria was her name, by the way.

I figured, like most broads, she'd be fascinated by the cute little monkeys and scared shitless of the snakes, but she surprised me. She loved the monkeys all right, squealing and giggling at every little trick they did, but she also, went all bug-eyed over the snakes, pressing her face right against the wire meshes and asking me questions about each one-whether they were poison-what they felt like-and all that.

But no signs of weirdness up to this point. Just normal curiosity and interest. Then we went and had ourselves a hamburger and coffee and she starts going a little strange on me for the first time.

"I really love animals," she says to me.

"Yeh, well, most people do. A lot of people even like animals better than people, I've noticed."

"Oh, I feel that way too," she says, and she gives a little shiver. "I wish I could be around them all the time. I envy you, working here every day."

"It's a living. I don't mind it."

"I wouldn't even need to get paid, if I was able to be around animals all the time. I'd work for nothing.

"Don't let the boss hear you say that. He'll have your name on a contract and put you to work sweeping crap out of cages the rest of your life."

"Ooh, I'd love to work inside the cages. Could I go right in with the animals while they were there? That would be fantastic! Please let me. I want to sweep cages!"

"Jesus, hold on, baby. I was only kidding. You sound like you're serious, for God's sakes."

"I am serious. Can you get me a job with the animals? Please, Joe. Take me with you. I'll work with your show and help take care of the monkeys and snakes. You don't have to pay me nothing. Please!"

"Holy Christmas! Are you shitting me? 'Nothing' is exactly what I could pay you, the way business has been lately. What am I supposed to do-keep you in a cage like one of the goddam animals? They don't get paid nothing either for traveling around with me."

She let out another squeal. "Okay! I'll be one of your animals. You can keep me in the cage with all the other monkeys." And she laughs like a bastard as if it's the greatest idea in the world.

I'm beginning to realize that sweet Gloria's some kind of a nut, but she's still one hell of a luscious piece of flesh, and I'd sure like to get one good hump out of her before I send her back to whatever loony bin she escaped from.

"Your mama and daddy ain't gonna be too pleased about it, are they, if you go running off with a monkey show? They'll be after my tail with a shotgun for kidnapping their precious little darling."

Thjs is just by way of finding out a little something about possible family problems involved in the case. I assume there's a mama and daddy in the wings, because she don't look more than teen-aged to me, but if there's a husband involved, I'd like to know about that too before I do anything rash.

She goes sober all of a sudden and says, "Don't worry about mama and daddy. They don't know where the fuck I am. I left home eight months ago and they was happy as hell to be rid of me. There wouldn't be nobody looking for me if I was just to take off with you."

"What have you been doing in the meanwhile?" I ask her.

"Just sort of bumming around," she said with a casual shrug. "Staying with different guys. But I ain't with nobody right now. I could be your chick if you want. Please take me with you."

This was a big dilemma. I'd been getting all the casual ass I could handle, picking it up here and there along the way, and I wasn't too anxious to tie myself down to anything even semipermanent. But I gotta tell you again, this Gloria was no run-of-the-mill road tramp by a long shot. Looked like a fucking movie starlet, no shit, with a pair of knockers all the way out to here. And the way they jiggled and rolled around when she walked, and the way the nipples were practically poking holes in her shirt-front, you had to believe that those nose cones were genuine tit-flesh through and through, with no artificial padding of any kind to gild the lily.

No harm keeping her around for tonight at least, and then tomorrow I could always figure a way to shuffle her off-maybe pass her on to one of the other guys around the grounds, who're always looking for a new hot pussy-second, third or fourth-hand, it don't matter shit to them.

It's a little unusual to have a cunt as luscious as this one who's as eager as Gloria was, so I played it cool from there on, figuring I had it made.

"Icould probably fix it with my boss to let you stick around for tonight, I guess," I told her, "and let you see how it is, taking care of the chimps and feeding them and all. But we're a little cramped for space, and you're gonna have to bunk in with me in my trailer or else sleep with the monkeys, one or the other."

I'm making a little joke here, but you should have seen her face light up. And she gives me my first big shock of the day. "Could I sleep with the monkeys? I'd love to do that, honest. Ooh wow! Right in their cage, you mean?" Her voice has gone all squealy with excitement. I can't believe this shit. She's actually serious! Not too flattering to me, for God's sakes. She'd rather sleep with the monkeys than with me. I've had some putdowns in my time, but that one took the prize.

"What are you-queer for monkeys?" I give her.

She giggles. "Oh, I just flip over the idea of snuggling up to them with all that fur and having their long hairy arms wrap all around me, and-and-"

That's as far as she goes with her hairy dreams, but I could imagine what was running through her fucked-up little mind. And I figured now was the time to have it right out in the open with her.

"You're not thinking serious of trying some kind of freaky sex shit with those chimps, are you?" I asked her.

She gave me a big wide-eyed stare. "Is-is that possible actually?"

"It's been tried before," I said. "But I wouldn't recommend it, frankly. Monkeys can get pretty rough when they're in a sex passion. What it would amount to for a human female is a very rough rape-job, and you'd come out of it black and blue all over, not to mention with your pussy feeling like it'd been reamed out with a corkscrew." I figured I'd throw it at her straight. Let her know what a stupid idea it was and maybe put some sober second thoughts in her head, if fucking a monkey was what she really had in mind.

It was hard to tell if I'd gotten through to her though. She didn't say any more, but just sat there and shivered, sort of, with her eyes all glassy-looking. I didn't like the looks of it, frankly. The quicker I got into this chick's pussy and then got her the hell out of my sight, the better off I'd be. In fact I was tempted to run her off the place right then and there. How did I know little Gloria wasn't the mayor-of-the-town's daughter or some such goddamn thing?

That's all we'd need at the carnival was to have one of the nice young society girls of the town get mauled by one of our chimps, and it'd be the end of all of us, and especially me for letting her get at 'em.

But then I took another good look at those wallowing boobs of hers and the lush ass, poking out of the hip pockets of her jeans, and I knew I couldn't let this get away without pumping at least one round of shots up her input tubes. Tonight I was bound and determined I was gonna ball the ass off her, no matter what. At least with her in my bed, I could be sure she wasn't out there messing around with my monkeys.

So I took her for a little walk around the carny grounds, seeing all the sideshows and riding all the fun rides, and then about nine o'clock I hauled her ass back to my trailer to get us bedded down for a little serious balling.

"It's too early to go to bed yet," she says to me.

I give her a squeeze on the nearest ass-cheek. "We ain't going to bed because we're tired- we're going to bed because I'm horny as a bastard and want to enjoy the fuckings of your warm body," I tell her in no uncertain terms. Let's have no misunderstandings, is my motto.

She's not exactly playing coy herself. She grabs onto my fly front and gives my weenie a pretty good squeeze. "Ooh, something came up already," she says with a dirty little snicker.

"You like that?" I said. "You won't find any pricks of those proportions on any goddam chimpanzee, I'll promise you that."

"I would love to see one of your monkeys with a hard-on," she said. "Do they ever?"

"Hell yeah. How the hell else do you think big chimps make little chimps, if they never get a hard-on?"

"Do you ever see them actually fuck? Do they do it in front of people?"

"They ain't read the rules about modesty and indecent exposure," I tell her. "When they feel like it, they do it. They don't give a shit who's watching or what."

She lets out a big giggle. "I love doing it with people watching. Wow!"

"I prefer mine in private, if it's all the same to you. Have you had much practice doing it in public?"

"Oh, sure. These guys I was living with before -we always used to do it in front of each other. I get lots hotter when there's a crowd around."

Jesus H. Christ, I'm thinking. What kind of a freak have I turned up here?

I open the door to my trailer and reach around to help her up the step and inside. But all of a sudden she isn't there, and I see her running off towards the monkey wagon. Son of a bitch. I've got this rock-ribbed hard-on all primed and ready, and I'm in no fucking mood to start frigging around now and take a chance of losing it and fucking up the whole night's festivities.

"Come on, you little bitch. Let's go," I yell after her.

"I want to see the monkeys again," she says.

They're asleep, for Christ sakes. They don't stay up all fucking night like stupid people."

But she's stubborn. "I want to see them anyhow. I bet they're all fucking each other right this minute."

"They do that in the daytime. Nights they sleep." How do I know what they really do at night? But all I want right now is to get this nut-brained little pussycat into my bed and fuck her pretty pink ass off.

"Just one look," she says, pouting like a little kid. "Then I'll come right to bed-I promise."

So what can I do? I open up the wagon and we crawl in and flash a light on the goddam monkey cage. Just as I expected, all hell breaks loose. They're not used to being busted in on in the dark of night. They go running around the cage, squealing up a storm, and Gloria is getting a huge charge out of it, laughing and clapping her hands.

Then the first thing I know, she's pulling off her shirt and goes running up to the cage and presses her bare boobs against the bars.

"Come play with mummy," she's saying to the monkeys. "Come suck mummy's titty." The three chimps are cowering in the far corner of the cage, scared shitless.

"It looks like they don't want no part of mummy's titties," I tell her, and I move in behind her to grab myself a handful from the back side. I gather up both her tits and give them a good squeeze. "I can use these if the monkeys ain't interested."

"I want the monkeys to do it," she whines. "Can I get in the cage and hug them? Please. I want to. They won't be scared when they see I ain't gonna hurt them."

"You're gonna have a hard time explaining that to them chimps, since they barely understand a word of English."

"Please! How do you open the cage?" She's rattling on the bars now like she wants to tear the fucking cage apart with her bare hands, which is scaring the monkeys all the more.

I've had about enough of this shit by that time. "I've got the key right here in my pocket," I tell her, "and that's where it's gonna stay. Come on, for Chris sakes-you're getting the chimps all upset. They won't be worth a shit in the show tomorrow if you keep this up." And then I have to practically drag her away from the bars and shove her out the door, with her whimpering and wailing as if I was tearing her away from her one true lover in all the world.

The only thought in my head was, by God, I'll give her a fucking ride that'll put those goddam chimpanzees out of her mind forever. Maybe she's horny for monkeys because she's never had a proper balling from a man. Well, shit, I'd never had any complaints about my performances in the sack up to then, and I was pretty sure I could go a long ways toward turning her onto fruman male animals again- maybe straighten her out better than any head-shrinker ever could.

Back in my wagon, I chucked her down on the cot and made short work of getting my clothes off. She just laid there, looking sad.

"Come on, goddammit," I told her, "get stripped out of them fucking jeans. I got a ramrod pecker here, but it don't poke holes through denim."

She undoes her belt and rips open her fly and then lifts up her legs towards me, and I lay hold of the bell-bottoms and haul them right off her. She's not even wearing panties underneath, so at that point we're both down to the bare buff, ready to lay skin on skin and start grappling.

She giggles. "Fuck me, you big ape."

I give her a monkey face and pound my chest gorilla-style, and then I hop over on top of her and flatten her down. "You're gonna get the fucking of your life, you little monkey-freak," I warn her, "so take a deep breath and swallow your bubble gum."

I move in for a little mouth-to-mouth spit-swapping, and right away, wouldn't you figure it, she bites me on the goddam lip. Figures she'll try the animal bit with me, I guess.

Well, that shit burns the crap out of me, and I haul off and give her a belt across the face that I figure will cool off her beastly urges, but she rolls with it and starts tearing at my gut with her goddam fingernails,. really digging and gouging. I get one of her wrists and twist it up sideways, and then belt her again, only with a good solid fist this time. If that was the way she wanted to play it, I was ready for her. I dig a good rough and tumble fuck as well as anybody. I was only hoping she was ready to take it as well as dish it out.

Already she was panting and gasping as if her burners were lit, so I guess the rough shit was what turned her on. I got both her wrists and pinned them under her, and I was pretty well settled down in the groove between her legs now, so she couldn't get at me by kicking. Her legs were thrashing all over hell in the air out both sides of me. I worked my prick up under her sprawled-out crotch and it wasn't any trouble at all to run it up to the groove and right on into the snake-hole, wide-open and soaking wet already. She was really turned on and ready for it, that's for sure. The only doubt in my mind was, is it me that turned her on or was it them fucking monkeys?

No matter. At the moment it's me here running a salami up her grinder, not a goddam chimp, and I'm the one that's about to have the pleasure of pounding her pussy to hamburger, so let her dream about monkeys in her imagination if she wants to. It's no skin off my orgasm.

"Rough," she's whispering at me now. "Do it rough! Pound the shit out of me. Please. Beat me! Rip me!"

Well, will you listen to this! Okay, little chicky-you asked for it. I was always one to oblige a lady when she asked for something in a nice way. So I haul back and start wanging my weenie up her trough with all the thrust-power I've got in me, and that's plenty. And'I get my balls pounding a rat-a-tattoo up under her ass-crack-wham wham wham.

"Uh uh uh uh," is the sound coming out of her throat, a little strangled reaction to my cock-thrusts as it slams up her gut-shaft the whole nine inches each time.

And just to spread the good cheer around, I go to work on her big wallowy boobs too, just for a diversion. They're sopping wet with sweat when my hands spread over them, and I clamp down in two huge, squishy handfuls and squeeze and twist them around to let her know I'm in the vicinity.

The noises coming out of her wide-open mouth build up to a series of little gaspy squeals now. I can tell when they're digging it, man, and this was one of those times for sure. Her whole body was rolling from side to side and shuddering with little spasms. The gut explosion wasn't far away, that was plain to see, and I was getting pretty close to an H-bomb pop-off .myself, the way the tickles were starting to stir around down in my come-generators.

When I felt the orgasm about to explode in me, I pulled the prick out of her in a hurry and let it fly all over her belly. I've got a thing about getting chicks pregnant-especially complete strangers like this one. Maybe she's on the pill and maybe she ain't-what the hell do I know? So I don't feel like taking chances anyhow.

Being in a pretty goddamn horny condition after all the previous teasing and rassling we'd been through, I had built up a pretty good head of steam by that time, and I splattered her slick little belly with about a quart of heavy cream before I was done popping. Between the come-juice and the sweat of our two bodies, she was pretty well lathered up all over the front of her then, and she starts smearing it around her belly and up over her tits with her hands.

"Why didn't you come inside me?" she said.

"How do I know you're protected?"

She shrugs and giggles. "I don't give a fuck if I have a baby. I want to." Then she starts scooping up globs of the jism off her belly and licking it off her fingers. "Yummy yummy," she says.

"You won't never get pregnant by eating it," I tell her.

"I like the taste of it," she says. "I heard that it's very good for you. It has vitamins in it and everything."

That's invitation enough for me. I move myself up over her and lay my still stiff weenie across her face, with my balls squashed out on her jaw. "If you're so fucking anxious to eat it, baby, why not take it straight from the source. I got plenty more fresh cream where that came from, and you can have it straight from the spigot."

Not a minute's hesitation, by God. She giggles and twists her head around to get the angle right, and opens up her yap to have herself a gobble of Old Grandad, but then she pulls back and sort of frowns and says, "Do monkeys shoot out juice the same as men do?"

"They sure as hell do. Don't tell me you're planning to suck off a chimpanzee next thing."

Son of a bitch if she ain't dead serious about all this monkey talk. "That would be fun to try," she says, "but I'd really rather do regular fucking with them-you know? Could a monkey make a chick have a baby, do you think? Wouldn't that be wild?"

I just shook my head. I'd found myself a first-class nut case here, and I'd better keep my eye on her, I figured, or God knows what the hell kind of shit she'd be trying on my poor unsuspecting monkeys next time my back was turned. I wasn't too sure actually just what would happen if she really did get in the cage with them chimps and started frigging around with them in sexy ways, but I wasn't in any hurry to find out either.

"Will you forget about them goddamn monkeys for one minute and give me a little attention? They ain't gonna appreciate you as much as I do." I grabbed her head by the hair and held it up in target position, and then stabbed my prick against her pouty lips. "Open up, baby. Get your dinner while it's still hot."

She opened her lips to a warm, wet O-shape, and I eased my weenie-head through the hole, and I could feel her tongue go to work on it inside there right away. She knew what she was doing all right in the blowjob department-I found that out in a hurry. She brought her hands up and started all this tickling and stroking business up and down the cock-shaft and around my balls, and at the same time her lips were gobbling away at the base of the head and her tongue lapping around the pee-hole, hitting all the goddamn little nerve-ends as if she'd been there before more than once and knew where the itchy spots were.

I didn't have to do a fucking thing--she was doing all the heavy work-so I laid into her tits again with both hands and gave them a pretty good going over with knuckles and nails, and milked the bejeezus out of her big rubbery nipples in the bargain.

It didn't take long before I felt the old pop-off bubbling up in my balls again, the way she was working over the weenie, and when I shot my load this time, I grabbed her head again and jammed my prick all the way down her throat to the hilt, mashing my balls on her chin and grinding my pubic hair over her lips. I must've goddamn near strangled her, but I held her like that until I finished pumping my whole fucking load of juice down onto her tonsils. Then I let her loose and pulled my prick out of her, figuring I'd give her a little breather, but she's still gotta play games. She quits gasping all of a sudden and lunges forward and clamps her mouth down on my meat again, and she gives me this quick little sneaky bite right on the weenie-head. Not hard enough to do damage but a real bullshit bit of business anyhow, and I didn't go for that crap at all. I grabbed her hair and twisted her head hard sideways, and then I gave her a belt with my open hand that would have flattened a goddamn mule.

She went sprawling down off the bed onto the floor like a ton of bricks and laid there blinking for awhile, sort of gasping and choking and spit- ting up, and I didn't pay no more attention to her but just lit up a cigarette and had a couple of puffs for myself. Pretty soon she rolls over onto her belly and goes down flat like that beside the bed, but I lean down real casual and give her the lit end of the cigarette right on the fat inside cheek of her ass, close to the hole. That brings her back to life in a big hurry.

"Yi-Yooo-you bastard!" she yells, and come bouncing back up onto her knees. Like a shot I'm down there alongside her and I have her up over the bed with her ass dangling off my side, and then I grab both her thighs up near the crotch-end and pull 'em apart. She's whimpering now, saying, "No-no-no-no," but I ain't finished with her yet, and she better believe it. She was the one that came sucking around here in the first place, begging to be let stay, and she might as well get the picture now as later of how I like to play this fucking game. Cause that's one thing about me-always-a chick wants to hang around, she's gotta play my game, by God, and my rules. I ain't about to play her fucking game, whatever it is. So little hot-cunt Gloria is gonna get the whole deluxe A to Z treatment right here and now, and after that if she wants to pack up her bubble gum and run home to mama, that's up to her.

I spread her ass-cheeks apart with the flats of my hands and bring my still-happy hard-on up into the groove and line it up on her puckered shit-hole, staring up at me there like a one-eyed monster.

"Don't fuck my ass," she's saying now. "Please no-that rips the shit out of me. You're too fucking big for my ass, Jay. Don't do it!"

But I'm not paying any goddamn attention to her whining. I always figure a chick don't really know who's the boss in a relationship until you've given it to her up the hind-end. If she winds up shitting bloody turds for a few days afterwards, that ain't bad either. Especially with freaky dumb-dumbs like this fucking Gloria-you can give 'em all kinds of pleasure and it don't mean a thing. That ain't what they crave. You gotta make 'em hurt-get 'em crying for mercy-give 'em a bloody hole or two and a body full of black and blue service marks to study over the next day, and then they don't forget you in a hurry. That's the kind of shit that keeps them crawling back for more, time after time. The old timers had the right idea-no woman believes you really love her unless you whale the shit out of her on a regular basis.

So I threaded the head of my stiff weenie in the mouth of her asshole, and then I just leaned into it and pushed for all it was worth, and that sucker slid up in there just as slick as you please. I could see that she'd been corn-holed a few times before. I know a virgin bum-hole when I see one. And as soon as I ran it up to the hilt and started to jive it in and out, she began to hump and shimmy her ass around, helping the action along considerably, and I had to believe that she was enjoying the buggery as much as I was. A lot of broads go for that up the ass shit in a big way, even if they let on like they're scared of it or something. Don't ever let no chick tell you what she wants and don't want, by God. Just do your own thing, whatever the fuck it is, and make her like it, and you won't ever have no trouble with 'em.

I gave her a good ten minutes of rear-end ramming before I shot off again and drained myself dry up into her fanny. No pregnancy problems there-that's another thing about it. But that about did it for me. I'd had it, for the time being at least, and I figured she must be about ready to call it quits too, now that she'd had all three holes reamed and grease-gunned. She acted like she was pooped out. I asked her if she wanted to go and shower in the wash house, but she just laid there where she was, sprawled out all over the bed, gasping and moaning like she'd run a marathon race and didn't have an ounce of energy left in her.

That was okay by me. I was about ready for a night's sleep myself, and I'd sleep lots better knowing that I'd fucked all the wildness out of this little hot-cunt for the time being anyhow, and I didn't have to worry no more about her trying to rape my chimps or something, at least until tomorrow. So I shoved her wheezing, sweaty carcass over to the far side of the bed to make room for myself, and settled down to have a smoke and think over in my mind how lucky I was. It looked like I'd picked me up a real prize little humper in this one-pretty nutty in the head, but one hell of a bailer. It could be a pain in the ass sometimes, having your own chick that you carried around with you from place to place, but there was advantages in it too. Saved you all the worry and wear and tear of scouting up chicks in every town you hit. along the carny route. It's awful goddamn easy to pick up a dose of clap that way, which is what usually happens no matter how cautious you are. Some of these cute little blue-eyed choir singers you run into can give you one hell of a surprise in that department, I know from experience.

And besides, in a dozen towns I wouldn't likely run across a tit and pussy combination like this little cock-knocker here in my bed right this minute. Just thinking about having her handy for everyday fuckings was giving me a stiffy all over again, but I figured I'd had enough balling action for the first night-no point wearing it out with plenty more nights ahead of us-not to mention mornings and lunch-breaks in between.

A little while later, I was just dozing off when I felt her crawling over me, heading out of bed for some reason.

"Where are you going?" I asked her.

"Just to the crapper," she grunts. "I'll be right back."

So I go back to sleep, but then the next thing I know I'm wide awake again and here's this yipping and chattering coming from the direction of the monkey house like all hell has broken loose out there, and it doesn't take me five seconds to figure what must be happening. I grab my pants and a flashlight and go flying out of there, stumbling all over the joint until I get the pants pulled up, and I come busting up to the monkey wagon ready to wring that little cunt's neck if she's done any damage to my goddamn monkeys. If they'd torn her fucking head off, that was okay, but any harm done to the chimps and my whole show was out of business and I was shit out of luck for the rest of the season. Every dime I had in the world was wrapped up in them fucking monkeys.

It turned out to be exactly what I'd figured, once I got inside the wagon. There she was in the monkey cage, sure as hell-the bitch must've swiped the key out of my pants while I was asleep. She had this one big chimp, Jocko, all wrapped around her and they was rolling around on the floor, while the rest of the monkeys was running all over hell, screeching and jabbering and jumping up on the bars, scared shitless obviously over this fucking bare-ass madwoman that's invaded their cage to kill 'em for all they knew.

Stupid Gloria was cackling and whooping, having a ball for herself, her legs all sprawled out on both sides of the chimp, wiggling her hips around and grabbing at his ass, trying to pull him up close against her crotch and work his weenies into her cunt if possible. But not if Jocko and I could help it, by God!

I went barreling into the cage and tore into that writhing and heaving tangle of skin and hair, and finally, with a lot of belting and tugging and yelling at both her and Jocko, I managed to pry them apart and drag her the hell out of the cage with me.

I was ready to skin the hide off that goddamn cunt, I'm telling you. "You fucking stupid monkey-loving weirdo. What the hell do you think you're doing? Didn't I tell you to lay off any shit with the chimps?" I belted her pretty good a couple of times and tossed her down on the floor. Then I grabbed the whip that I use just for show purposes in the monkey act, but I was gonna use it then for something more than show. Teach her a fucking lesson she'd remember. At that point she was so dumb she was still giggling and grabbing at my pants like it was all some big joke and she didn't believe I was serious.

That just made me all the madder than I was, and I started really laying it into her-splat splat splat with that fucking whip. She quit laughing in a hurry then. I whaled the living shit out of her, and I didn't care where I hit- face, chest, belly-and when she went down onto the floor and rolled over to protect herself, I gave her back and her ass a goddamn good stripping up and down that drew blood before I was finished. I noticed she already had some blood on her arms and around her boobs even before I started on her, which meant that poor fucking bewildered chimp must've taken a few nips at her in the struggle, and she was so freaked out in her goddamn animal-crazy mind, she apparently hadn't even noticed that she was getting bitten all to hell. I've heard of somebody being carried away by sex passions, but this was a little too much for me to figure out.

Anyhow, my arm was getting tired from whacking on her cruddy hide, so I tossed the whip away finally and gave her a gentle barefoot kick in the face.

"Okay, that's it. Get your ass up, Miss monkey-fuck, and go shower off. And from here on you do exactly what I tell you to do around here-no more and no less. Either that or else put your clothes on and clear out right now. I'm not putting up with any more of this shit, and you better believe it. Next time you get any of these fucking little bright ideas, I'll take the hide clean off you all the way down. From now on, if you feel like you gotta rape something, you come to me. I'm always ready to get raped."

She told me she was sorry about the whole thing, which I didn't believe a fucking word of, and she promised she'd behave from now on if I'd still let her stay with me. Just being around the monkeys would be good enough for her, she swore.

And at least for a few days afterwards she didn't give me no more trouble. She helped sell tickets and herd the crowd in and out and all, and I began to see that it wasn't such a bad idea having a good-looking chick around the show- it helped to attract the suckers. I caught 'em dropping remarks like, "How come she ain't in the girly show, with a pair of tits like that?" and "I'd sooner shell out fifty cents to look at her riding a bicycle in short pants and a derby hat than that ugly monkey."

So that started me thinking some real serious thoughts. I was always on the lookout for new angles for making an extra buck off the rubes, and it began to occur to me that little old sex-bomb Gloria could maybe have other uses around here after all besides just screwing and blowjobbing me to sleep every night after a hard day on the midway.

My first thought was just to doll her up in a little bikini outfit or something fairly sexy like that and let her escort the chimps in and out of their cage during the show, just for a little window-dressing. I went to see Jake, the big Swede that ran the girly show, to see if he could fix her up with a cute costume of some kind that'd serve the purpose. But he had a few ideas of his own to toss at me.

"Shit, man," he says to me, "just put her in a goddamn g-string and pasties, is all you need. Let her show off them bouncy bare boobs of hers and you'll have more customers than you can handle in no time."

"Oh no," I says. "This is a family show I'm running here. I get a lot of old ladies and little kids coming in. They don't want no nudie females. They come in to see chimps and rattlesnakes."

He gave me a snort. "Get smart for once, man. You're going broke with that family-type shit. You're lucky to get twenty customers a day in that tent of yours-ain't that right? Turn it into a sex show, for Christ sakes. Forget about the little old ladies and the kiddies. Go after these horny farmers and young studs you see all over the lot. That's your paying audience. I'm turning over two or three hundred a day at my show, and you can do the same with that hot little cunt as the bait to draw them in."

"What am I supposed to do with the snakes and chimps, for Christ sakes? Chuck 'em out? And what's that stupid-ass Gloria gonna do to entertain the guys? Fucking's all she's good for. She can't sing or dance. She's even clumsier than I am. You think guys are gonna layout money just to get a look at her boobs? Shit- they can go down to your tent and see four or five chicks doing a bare-ass dance performance. Gloria can't compete with that."

Jake shook his head. "You're so dumb you deserve to go broke. Let me tell you how you do it. Follow my idea and I'll make you a millionaire before the summer's over."

Well, I didn't exactly become a millionaire, but I have to admit I done all right for myself with his bright idea. I never wouldn't thought of it myself. What it involved was changing my show around completely from a straight animal act to an out and out sex show, including the animals. It took a week of setting up and rehearsing to get it all in shape and working smooth, but I knew by the time I opened up to the public that I had a real winner on my hands. If I could just manage not to get busted by the law, was my only worry.

I'll tell you what the new show was like. When the marks came by, the first thing they'd see was these big signs I had painted-MOANA THE JUNGLE PRINCESS, and this sexy picture of Gloria, practically naked, with a huge fucking snake wrapped all around her legs, and with his fangs sticking out, just about zeroing in dead-center on her crotch.

And then I'm standing up there giving 'em the spiel. "Raised by wild beasts in the African jun- gle-the female Tarzan-see Moana, the gorgeous jungle princess, perform her sexsational bridal rites with the ferocious killer-ape-also her exotic love dance with deadly poisonous giant reptiles," and all kinds of shit like that. I'd get 'em really swarming around, I'm telling you, and as soon as I had a good-sized crowd of rubes collected, I'd bring out Princess IVIoana to give 'em a quick look at her sexy shape that would get all their mouths watering for more. She'd come slinking out wrapped up in a leopard cape, and then when I gave the word, she'd flash it open for just a couple of quick seconds and show them about nine tenths of that sexy little body of hers in a skimpy loin cloth that barely covered her twat-hair and a bandana tied around her boobs that left plenty of bare tit showing on the top side. No problem selling tickets from that point on. Man, I only wished I had a bigger tent to jam 'em into. There was turn-away crowds practically every show.

The first part of the performance inside, I had these native drums whanging away on a p.a. system to give it a little jungle atmosphere. Then Gloria would come out into the spotlight in her g-string and bandana bra and do a little shimmying around to get everybody heated up and horny while I ran on with a bullshit spiel about how the jungle princess could never be satisfied with the love of ordinary human men. She only could come to orgasm with the beasts of the jungle, and in their rough embrace she satisfied every sexual need.

Right at that point these two chimps would come busting out of nowhere and jump up on her and start feeling her up in the goddamndest ways. One of them would go at her from behind and begin digging and poking around up underneath the ass-end of her loin cloth, and after a little of that, with the crowd all whooping and gasping for air, then the other little bastard would hop up on the front of her and she'd catch hold of him and hug him to her. This chimp would grab onto her bandana bra and drag it off her boobs and chuck it away, and then he'd begin mauling her tits all around in his monkey mitts and lapping on the nipple-ends of 'em with his tongue. The crowd of rubes would goddamn near shit at the sight.

That was as far as the monkey business went for the fifty cents admission price. At the point I'd announce, "That's the end of the public performance, folks," and there'd be this big groan and a lot of grumbling start up, but then I'd say, "However, now that the princess, and her ape lovers are all heated up to a pitch of lust- ful emotion, they will proceed from this point to satisfy their raging animal passions in actual bestial intercourse. Unfortunately, due to the nature of the local obscenity laws, we are not permitted to show this intimate sexual act to you as part of the public performance. However, as a special favor to all you broad-minded gentlemen gathered here tonight, for a mere one dollar contribution to the animal welfare fund, a limited number of you will be permitted to remain in the tent to actually witness the unbelievable intercourse and penetration of the most intimate parts of the gorgeous princess's completely nude body by the massive sexual members of these two savage beasts."

Well, shit-if you think anybody ever said no thanks-I've seen enough already, and took off for home at that point, you're out of your fucking mind. You should'vc: seen the dollar bills popping out of the wallets.

And what they saw was the real thing too, from there on. No faking. Gloria and me actually had managed to train them fucking chimps to make it with her, something I never would've thought possible. Once they got over being scared of Gloria, though, it wasn't any trouble at all to get 'em doing what we wanted. Gloria got 'em into a sexy frame of mind by did- dling around with their weenies to start off, and once she had 'em into a hard-on condition, she didn't have no problems with it from there, getting them to actually make connections and ball with her.

The way she'd work it with the two monkeys at once, there'd be this one chimp-the small one-laying on his back, and Gloria would drop down on her hands and knees with her face over his crotch, and she'd go into this big licking and slobbering thing all over his monkey prick and balls until she worked him up to a boney, and then she'd start in on a big juicy, slurpy gobble-job.

Man, that'd freak out that crowd of rubes every time. There wasn't a one of 'em ever thought he'd live to see a bare-ass naked woman sucking a monkey's weenie, that's for sure.

And while she's blowjobbing on this hairy little bastard, the other chimp-the big one, Jocko-is climbing up over her ass, which is perched up high in the air, the way she's squatting, and all by his own goddamn initiative he bumps his pecker around the crack of her ass and up underneath her crotch until he's raised himself a full-sized hard-on, and then he shimmies and wiggles himself into the groove between her legs and runs his prick up her snatch from the hind-side. Then he goes into this wild humping and bumping that'd just about make you shit to see it. He gets himself a good hard hairy grip on her hip bones and away he goes-wham wham wham-in and out that luscious wet crease of hers, which is usually oozing good by then from her juice generators.

The guys in the audience are practically climbing up on each other's backs by that time, trying to get in as close as they can and see the monkey's weenie actually driving home in a real live sweet young human gussy. Something to tell their grandchildren about, maybe. They ain't gonna run home and tell their wives about it-that's for sure.

The crazy thing is though, it's a sort of combination of the funniest thing you ever seen, and then again the sexiest thing you ever seen. So them boys watching don't hardly know whether to bust their sides laughing or pop off in their pants. The way their eyes are bugging out of their heads generally, I don't suppose most of them hardly can believe what they're seeing.

Originally that was all there was to the show-just apes, no snakes-but Gloria gave me the idea of how to milk the rubes for one more buck apiece. She says to me, "Instead of just the chimps, why don't I do some sexy shit with one of them big old snakes too?"

I thought she was just kidding. "What are you figuring on doing? Let the goddamn snake run up your pussy?"

Goddamn if that wasn't exactly what the hell she had in mind. "Why not?" she says. "That green snake with the stripes is just about as big around as a man's hard prick. I could do a dance, sort of, with him all winding around me and everything, and then stick him up between my legs and lay down, and I betcha he'd crawl right up inside my cunt just like it was a snake hole."

What the hell. As long as she suggested it. An extra buck apiece from every customer would give a fantastic boost to the profits, which were pretty unbelievable to start with.

So the next day we gave the idea a try. At first it didn't look like it was gonna work out. The goddamn snake would wrap around her okay for the dancing part, but when she stuck his head up under her crotch, he didn't seem to know what was expected of him from there. Then I had an idea. This particular snake was real fond of eating flies-they was his favorite breakfast, lunch and dinner. So I trapped a couple of big bluebottles and stuffed them up inside Gloria's pussy-track, and then we let the snake loose down there at her crotch again and you should've seen him. He made a couple of passes at her cunt with his fangs, feeling his way, and then he stuck his head right in the slot and swoosh! I thought we was gonna lose him there for a second. Right on up inside as slick as you could want.

Once he was well up in there, Gloria grabbed on and held him in place, and then she flopped onto her back and started all this wild writhing and rolling around and humping her hips up and down like the snake was driving her out of her frigging mind.

It was no huge thrills for her actually, she said. Not anywheres near as good as the monkey, which gave her real hairy orgasms when he went up her chute. But with all her squirming and thrashing around, she made a goddamn wild-looking show out of it anyhow, and so from then on we tacked the snake-fuck onto the performance at each show. I described it as "the forbidden sex-ritual of the snake-worshipping wild Bazoombas, and it turned out to be an even bigger sensation with the crowds than the chimp business.

For about six weeks I rode that gravy train- moving from town to town with it all across the middle west, but then the carnival was about to head south down into Dixieland, and I knew fucking well we was gonna run into trouble down there in them Bible-belt communities. Jake always had to cool down and dress up his girly show when we hit those parts or else pay out half his profits to buy off the local eagle-eyes, so I-didn't stand a prayer of getting away with that hairy animal act of mine. After all, the good book says in no uncertain terms that man shalt not lie down with the beast, and they take the Holy word real serious down in them regions. I didn't feel like spending the rest of the summer rotting in some crummy little hillbilly jail or going broke paying off big fat fines, so I pulled off a little shrewdy at that point and slid out from under.

There was this fellar who ran the dodgem-cars and merry-go-round concessions, and he'd been trying all season to muscle in on my show, ever since he seen how good I was doing with it. He also had hot pants for Gloria, which made it all the easier for me when the time came. Just before we headed south, I went to him and told him I was getting fed up to here with all the traveling and I'd decided to sell out my show, lock stock and barrel. He jumped at it, the way I figured he would. We dickered around awhile and I worked him up to a pretty good price, and then I turned the whole shebang over to him with my blessings-snakes, monkeys, hot-cunt Gloria and all.

She didn't give a shit when I told her she had a new boss from now on. It was the fucking livestock she was attached to, not me personally. So I wished her good luck, packed up my money bags and lit out for other places.

With all the bread I'd piled up in that short time, I bought in on a small animal farm in upstate New York, and I been doing all right for myself ever since. Back working with animals again, but all on the up and up now-strictly for the family trade. No more monkey-fucks and snake-screwings and bare-ass jungle princesses for me. I still get my share of hot-pants chicks that come screwing around begging for it, and I don't mind obliging them with a little personal attention, but I make goddamn sure I keep them away from the animals. When a broad asks me sometimes nowadayg--about the possibilities of making it with one of my llamas or mountain goats or alligators or whatever, I just tell her to go on home and screw her pet pooch.. A plain old house-dog will do you a lot better than any of these wild zoo beasts.

That was one hell of a wild time with little old Gloria while it lasted though, and I wouldn't've missed it for the fucking world. I wonder sometimes how she ended up finally. Probably graduated from chimps to gorillas by this time, if she ain't been chewed up or tore limb from limb in the meantime.

Chapter Two

Society Pooch

Money can be a big advantage to persons of perverse-perhaps illegal tastes. Paupers with drug habits must resort to stealing or hustling to get money for dope, whereas rich addicts can afford to supply their needs without trouble through high level connections, and if they choose, they can ride along forever in a permanent high state with no one in the outside world ever being the wiser.

The same advantage applies in the case of kinky sex habits. For wealthy homosexuals and lesbians or those whose sexual tastes run to the farthest-out extremes-bizarre orgies, sado-masochism and bestiality- it is a huge advantage to be able to operate behind a protective screen of money and position which can protect the high society debauchee from the social and legal harassment that can spell disaster for the everyday wage-slave variety of pervert, living a common-ordinary goldfish bowl existence.

Speaking of wealthy debauchees, Carol W. in the following case is an intriguing example of the exotic breed. She is a thirtyish golden-haired lady of rare beauty and elegance whose name and face are frequently seen in chic magazines and on Sunday society pages, but except for three dissolved marriages in her past, there have been no sensational scandals so far chalked against her fairy princess- image.

A few of her more intimate ex-friends and enemies, however, could paint an entirely different picture of the genteel lady's unorthodox sexual preferences, especially a certain chauffeur who recently left her employ. This "gentleman" has been rather indiscreet lately in letting the word get around about Carol's strange bestial habits, and the account that follows is based on information that he provided, backed up by corroborative evidence gathered from other sources by independent investigators.

Case 2 Carol W.

Patrick G. went to work for Carol as chauffeur shortly after her third divorce. He had come to her highly recommended by several of her female social register colleagues, not only as an expert driver, but also a skillful and tireless stud. Patrick, knowing that Carol was now free and unattached, assumed that he was being hired more for his sex services than his driving skills. But Carol gave him no encouragement or opportunities to get familiar in the beginning. He hardly ever was allowed to step inside the house, and Carol seldom used the car during the first month or so he was on the job. So most of his time on duty was spent in his small chauffeur's quarters adjacent to the garage, awaiting the lady's pleasure.

Then one day Carol called for him to bring the car around-she was going to go somewhere and pick out a dog, she said. He wasn't sure he heard right. A dog?

"Yes, a dog," she explained as they drove down the turnpike. "I want him for companionship. I don't feel safe in the house alone nights. I want a big fierce-looking dog with me for protection."

"I'm always around," Patrick said. "You can call on me for protection any time."

Carol laughed. "Maybe you're the one I need protection against, from what I've heard of your past history."

It was the first time she'd ever let the barriers down and made any reference to his sexy reputation in front of him.

"Is it true that you used to be known as 'hotrod'?" she asked slyly.

He shrugged. "I've done a little race driving off and on," he said.

She laughed again. "That wasn't the type of hot rod I was thinking of."

She was really sucking around for it now, Patrick figured. He'd been wondering how long before she got around to investigating his hot rod. He caught her eye in the rear-view mirror and gave her a slow smirk, congratulating himself. Before the night was over he figured he'd be in her silk-sheeted bed for sure, cock-ramming the bejeezus out of her high-faluting royal snatch, and fucking well time.

At the kennel, she picked out the biggest Great Dane dog she could find. "That's the one I want," she said, her eyes gleaming, and she wrote a check for the purchase on the spot.

"He's gonna want a lot of exercise, a big sucker like him," Patrick warned her. "You're gonna have to take him out for a run every day."

"Not I," she said. "That will be your job, Mister hot-rod-you have nothing else to do mornings."

She went on calling him hot-rod all the way home, and when they got there he expected to be invited into the house for a little sociability and chit chat, leading up to a mad fuck to end all fucks, but she disappointed him. "Come around to the house tomorrow morning at eight sharp," she told him, "and get Hamlet's breakfast for him. After that you'll take him out for a romp around the grounds for an hour. You'll do that regularly every day without fail from now on, do you understand? And please try not to disturb me when you come into the house, as I shall most likely still be sleeping at that hour."

Patrick swallowed and said, "You sure there's nothing I can do for you right now?"

She smiled sweetly. "I'll let you know when I need your services otherwise. Meanwhile, keep your hot rod well oiled. I'd hate to find it all rusted and useless just when I feel like giving it a test run."

With that teasing goodbye she closed the door on him, and he went hobbling back to his quarters with aching nuts, angry and frustrated. He could have called up one of his numerous chick friends to drop over right then and there and ease his strains for him, but if he got a big ball-thing going tonight, he knew goddam well he'd be in no shape to drag himself out of the sack tomorrow at eight a.m. and exercise that fucking dog. And he sure didn't want to do anything to screw up the job here, because he was getting well paid for it, and besides, he was bound and determined not to cut out on this particular setup until he'd slipped his weenie into Carol's silky shorts at least one time.

The next morning he trotted over to the house on the tick of eight and let himself in. He expected to find Hamlet up and prowling around, but there was no sign of him. The house was all quiet as he roamed the lower rooms and hallways, making soft doggy-whistles.

Then all of a sudden Carol's voice startled him, coming out of nowhere.

"Come and get him. We're upstairs. Hamlet's been waiting for you since dawn."

Patrick climbed the stairs, following the sound of her voice to its source. "Where are you?" he called.

"The bedroom, of course. Where would you expect? Come in-come in."

He pushed open a door and found himself in Carol's dimlit boudoir. But it was not too dark in the room for him to see that the beautiful society belle was sitting up in. bed smiling at him, and that underneath her wispy gossamer night-thing her gorgeous boobs were very very naked and completely visible in all their milky white, blue-veined, rosy-pointed lushness.

He stood gaping in surprise, forgetting all about the dog for the moment.

She said, "You're right on time, I'm happy to see." Then she waved her arm sideways and her right boob quivered tantalizingly under its tissue thin covering. "There's Hamlet. Take him down to the kitchen-serve him his doggy-ration -he's famished, the poor fellow. Then let him romp around the grounds until he's tired and bring him back to me in an hour or so. Any questions?"

Patrick still hesitated. She hadn't brought him up here to her boudoir just to hand over her dog for an airing, he was pretty goddam sure. And she wasn't laying those raw knockers out on display for no reason at all. She had to be putting him to the test with all this setup. Time to move in, he decided, and take a bite at the bait.

He smiled and stepped forward toward the bed, but in a flash Hamlet reared up from the corner with a hair-raising growl, baring his fangs. Patrick froze. "Hold it now. That bugger's gonna eat me alive if I make one move. I don't believe he likes me."

Carol said coldly, "He gets nervous when he sees you step towards my bed, that's all. He's very jealous of me already. He's afraid that you intend to fuck me or something of that kind. You can't blame him, can you? I might think the same thing myself, if I didn't know better. But as long as you don't make any more moves in the wrong directions and just take Hamlet to breakfast as you're supposed to, I think you'll find him very friendly from now on."

Patrick backed off nervously toward the door. "Okay-okay. I surrender. Come on, Hamlet- let's go to chow. I hope to Christ he's not figuring on eating me for breakfast, that's all."

The dog followed him out and downstairs to the kitchen without any further show of hostility, Patrick was relieved to see. The huge mutt gobbled down a full bowl of hash in two minutes flat, and then for an hour on the back grounds he chased sticks all over the lawn like a frisky puppy.

"The fucking things I do to earn a buck," Patrick was muttering to himself. "That goddam bitch thinks she's gonna string me along with this teasy shit every day, probably, until I finally blow my cork. Well, fuck her-from now on I give all my attention to the dog up there in that room. I won't even glance her way, starting tomorrow, even if she's lying out on top of the sheets in the bare-ass nude in a spread-eagle. She's not the only one that can play teasy games."

And so it went on, day after day, from there on. Each morning Patrick came to her room to pick up Hamlet and he never knew exactly what he'd find when he got there. Some days she'd be completely under the covers and asleep, or at least pretending to be. On other days she would try to tantalize him with a subtle boob show like on the first day, or one of her long, sleek legs, nude to the hip, would be dangling outside the covers, or she would be lying, obviously naked, underneath a body-molding silk sheet.

But he never approached the bed or lingered in the room, no matter how much of a display she offered him. He would only give Hamlet a low whistle and snap his fingers, and the dog would be up at once and follow him out.

After three weeks of this daily routine, Patrick had just about decided that things never were going any farther with Miss rich-bitch, fuck-wise. She was nothing but a goddam man-hating, frigid-ass teaser, he told himself. No wonder three different guys had divorced her. Probably she'd pulled this same kind of teasy crap on them.

He watched Hamlet racing across the back lawn, chasing a flock of sparrows. "You lucky bastard," he laughed. "You sleep in that room with her every rucking night. Maybe you're getting something out of her that I ain't." But it was just a joke idea. He didn't really believe for a second that the elegant Mrs. W. was balling with a great Dane dog. That was something you read about in sexy books, but you didn't take it seriously in connection with people you actually knew.

Patrick was about to get the shock of his life though, if he only realized. Three days later he came into the house at the usual early hour to pick up the dog and he was startled to hear a great commotion from upstairs-thumping and dragging on the floor, little barks and growls, and Carol's voice in what could be sobbing or laughing or cries of pain-impossible to tell. Maybe the dog had gone wild and attacked her. He went racing up the stairs, but before he could push open the bedroom door Carol called out to him hysterically, "Don't come in, for God's sake! Go away! Everything's all right- you're not needed today!"

He hesitated, completely mystified, but then immediately afterward Hamlet growled fiercely and there was a heavy bump and a cry from Carol of obvious pain. So he threw open the door and burst in, and he couldn't believe the fantastic sight that met his eyes.

The usually elegant Miss W. looked anything but elegant in her present situation. She was sprawled grotesquely, stark naked on the fuzzy pink carpet, her long sleek legs obscenely spread apart, with Hamlet's huge bulk looming over her, pressing her body down. Patrick's first impression of the situation was that the dog must have gone mad and was attacking his mistress, and he grabbed up a chair and brandished it at the great beast, lion tamer style, and shouted at him, "Down, boy! Get away! Bad dog!"

But as he moved around beside them, the dog reared up and growled at him, and with that the true picture became clear for the first time. Patrick's mouth fell open with astonishment and he dropped the chair. Hamlet's long prick, swollen and Unsheathed, obviously was buried deep up inside Carol's gaping cunt-slit and apparently had somehow gotten stuck there in the course of their bestial enjoyments some time during the night, resulting in the present incredible spectacle. Carol was covering her face in her hands now, moaning over and over, "Oh God

-oh God!"

Patrick couldn't believe what he was seeing. He'd heard of dogs getting their wangs stuck inside other dogs, but never in a woman's pussy. That was a new one. And to think such a terrible embarrassment should happen to the high and mighty Miss Carol W., of all people.

All of a sudden the whole business seemed like a huge joke to him, and he leaned back against the wall and laughed uproariously.

"God damn you!" Carol spit out at him. "Now that you're here-help me, you idiot."

"Well, excuse me," he said, determined to get all the possible enjoyment out of her weird predicament. "I'll be pleased to help you, Miss W., but I have to admit this is kind of a new problem to me. I don't run into dogs and ladies stuck together crotch-to-crotch too often in my line of work. It might take me a little while to figure out just exactly how to go about unscrewing the connections, so to speak. I wouldn't want to strip threads or anything like that."

"I can do without your stupid jokes," she said sternly. "Don't just stand there smirking like an idiot. Do something. This is-this is painful!"

He chuckled. "You don't actually look like you're in all that much pain," he said. "Just embarrassed mostly, I'd say. You don't like me finding out your dirty little sex secrets, do you? I never would have figured you for a dog nicker, though-I must say. How is it, if you don't mind my asking? Better than a man?"

She was in a blind fury by this time. "Get me out of this at once, do you hear, or you'll be damn sorry-I promise you."

"Okay okay. Don't rush me. You don't mind, do you, if I study the problem a little while first before I make any hasty moves. I mean, I wouldn't want to do the wrong thing and take a chance of doing damage to poor old Hamlet's pecker, you know what I mean? I know from experience, a male animal in a hard-on condition is very vulnerable."

He knelt down beside them and leaned in to get a close look at the mechanics of the situation. The ordinarily perfectly groomed Carol was disheveled, dog-haired and sweat streaked, and her ribs and arms and shoulders and dreamy boobs were criss-crossed with little scratches and black-and-blue spotted from the flailing paws of the freaked out dog.

"Goddam," Patrick said, "it looks like you two have been hassling around here like this for quite a while, the way you're all scuffed up. I sure wish I'd brought my Polaroid camera along. This'd make one hell of a prize snapshot, that's for sure. How long have you two been stuck here, anyhow?"

"You bastard-I'll fix you," was all she said.

"I'm gonna help. Just be patient. I have to study the problem from all angles, don't I?" He reached a hand in and patted her sweat-slimed belly, but at that Hamlet gave a fierce growl and snapped at his wrist, narrowly missing. Patrick leaped back away in the hick of time.

"Well, Jee-zus-how about that? He's real jealous of his fucking lady friend, isn't he? You see the problem I'm up against? That love sick son of a bitch isn't gonna let me come near you. How am I gonna help you without getting my goddam arm bitten off by your lover boy? "

"Stop it, Hamlet!" she cried. "You behave yourself now. Patrick is going to help us. Calm down, now-that's the boy."

But the dog still was growling in his throat and snapping his jaws in Patrick's direction. The chauffeur moved off toward the bathroom shaking his head.

"I don't know, ma'am. I understand exactly how he feels. A man doesn't like having some other bastard messing around the scene when he's in the process of fucking his lady love. Three's a crowd, as the old saying goes."

He found a plastic bucket in the bathroom and brought it back out with him, filled with cold water. "I'll tell you what," he said. "The only way I ever heard of separating two dogs that got stuck together cock-to-cunt is by dousing them with a pail of water. It's an old country remedy, they tell me." And with that he let fly the icy contents of the bucket all over both dog and lady.

Hamlet barked and Carol let out a shriek of surprise and outrage. "You motherfucking son of a bitch. You'll pay for this," she sputtered.

The old country remedy didn't seem to have worked after all, as Carol's sprawled-out torso still dangled ridiculously below the dog's belly, cunt still firmly welded to cock.

Patrick laughed and shook his head. "Well, shit-it was worth a try anyhow, wasn't it? If you've got some better suggestions, I'd love to hear them. How about you, Hamlet? You got any ideas on the subject? Clue us in, why don't you, on how you handle these little hang-up problems down at the kennel."

Carol changed her tone now to pleading. "Please, Patrick-you've had your fun. Now will you please try to do something construc- tive. Get us out of this and I'll-I'll-well, you won't be sorry, I promise you. You'll be well rewarded."

Patrick laughed again. "Well, listen to the lady! That's a fine way to talk in front of Hamlet. You're gonna make him more jealous than ever. Look at how he's glaring at me now. I think I'm better off leaving you just the way you are. The second that son of a bitch gets loose, he's gonna chew me up and spit me out. No thanks."

"Patrick-Patrick-please. I beg you." She was actually smiling at him now. "I can be very nice to you, Patrick. You'll see."

He let out a big sigh. "Oh, boy. How can I turn deaf ears to an offer like that? The gorgeous Carol W. offering herself on a silver platter, and all I've gotta do for it is accomplish a disengagement of her priceless pussy from a nasty old dog cock that just happened to get stuck in there by some fantastic accident. How did this ever manage to happen, by the way? Let me guess. You were on the way to the bathroom to powder your nose and you slipped and fell, and Hamlet just happened to be standing there in the path at the time with a big gran-daddy hard-on, which by chance stabbed you up underneath the gut regions and impaled your glory-hole as you fell. Just another one of those home accidents that we hear warnings about and don't ever believe will happen."

He moved around behind Hamlet and stood between Carol's sprawled out legs. "Okay, lady, I'll see what I can do down this end, but do me a favor, please-grab hold of that beast's front legs and hang on tight while I'm operating on his ding-dong. Just so he can't turn his head around and get at me with those goddamn fangs of his. I don't mind dog bites ordinarily, but he could have rabies for all I know and I haven't had my shots."

She glared at him. "Are you seriously going to try and do something constructive at last? This isn't the huge joke you seem to think it is, you clown."

"Never mind the clown crap, Mrs. W., just you hang on tight to those front paws if you ever want to get out of this alive. I could go away and leave you hung up on this dog cock forever, you know. Or would you like for me to call some kindly old veterinarian for advice? I'll tell him, 'My great Dane got his pecker caught in a bitch's cunt, doc-got any suggestions?' Wouldn't have to tell him the bitch's name or pedigree, necessarily."

He leaned over and picked up both her legs by the ankles and spread them wide apart on both sides of Hamlet's quivering hind-hocks. The dog gave a yelp-at the sudden drag of her full ass-weight on his weary prick, and Carol let out a shriek.

"Ow-EECH! Goddamnit to hell. My CUNT, for Christ sakes! Let me down, you idiot-it's tearing the hell out of my goddamn cunt!"

He eased her legs and ass back down slowly onto the carpet again. "I don't see any blood around the opening. I don't believe you're in any serious trouble. That cunt of yours, as I believe you called it, looks to me like it's used to pretty hard pounding. Probably got callouses on the inside. I'm sure you must've had bigger weenies than Hamlet's shafting you before this, so I guess you'll probably survive this little embarrassment none the worse for wear."

"You miserable prick!" she snarled at him. "I'll have your balls for this-you just wait and see."

"My balls! What are you gonna do-hang 'em over your mirror for a souvenir? Shit, lady, my balls wouldn't do you any good. And come to think of it, they haven't been doing me too much good lately either."

Carol's voice rose to a screech. "Get me OUT OF THIS! HELP me, goddamn you! I can't stand it any longer. I'm going out of my mind!" She began heaving and bucking her hips desperately,, braced on her elbows-her legs kicking into the air--her head hanging back, thrashing from side to side, bumping against the floor- yelling at the top of her voice in absolute hysteria, "Get him out of me. Get him OUT!"

Her sudden burst of activity had an unexpected result. It seemed to set a new spark to Hamlet's sex-engine, which was the last thing in the world Carol wanted at this point. He felt the new frictions of her lunging and tugging pelvis dragging her clutching cunt walls along the raw-chafed surfaces of his over-swollen prick, and he began humping his hind quarters in an instinctive reaction, starting up a whole new burst of fucking action, driving his huge bulbous cock furiously in and out her raw, burning twat-slit. He began barking as he pumped, his tail wagging energetically as he felt a new surge of orgasm delights stirring around in his canine loins.

When Carol realized with horror what was happening, she tried to put on the brakes by holding herself rigid again, grabbing at Hamlet's body, desperately hoping to calm him down and put a quick stop to these new agonies. But there was no holding the great horny beast now, and as the lust surged in him again, he pounded all the harder up her helpless gut-passage.

Patrick stepped back, his mouth hanging open. "I'll be goddamned," he mumbled in wonder at the incredible show.

"STOP him," Carol shrieked. "Make him STOP, goddamnit!"

"Why shit," Patrick shrugged. "I wouldn't dream of breaking in on a fellar right in the middle of when he's balling his chick. Matter of fact, I'll step out in the hall until you two are finished making it if you want. I feel like I'm intruding on something private here."

"You-you-bas-tard-uh-uh-uh-uh-" Carol's protests trailed off into incoherent gasps and sobs of fury and frustration as the great Dane's punishing meat-bone reamed and reamed in and out of her tender hole. Her entire body was being tossed and shaken about now like a loose-jointed puppet-her face completely obscured by the disheveled flailing blonde mop of her hair-her humping, heaving body flinging sweat showers in all directions -her jelly-boobs lolling and wallowing from side to side on her chest-her knees bicycling, her feet shuffling about on the carpet, trying to find a firm footing and take some of the excru- ciating pressure off her freaked-out fuck-hole.

And then all of a sudden Hamlet came to his orgasm-announced by a couple of quick, excited yips and a sudden shuddering in his hind quarters. As Patrick watched, a flood of creamy juices came oozing out over the split lips of Carol's stuffed cunt and ran little rivers down the already soaked inner cheeks of her ass.

Then the violent scene became calm again. The huge dog, with his passions spent one more time, seemed to go limp in every muscle. His body sagged and his legs bent as he eased Carol's tortured carcass back down onto the carpet.

For a moment there was no more sound in the room except the dog's panting and Carol's faint moaning and gasping. Then she whispered, "Please, Patrick. I BEG you-please. Get us apart now. I can't-take any more. One more time-and I'll-I'll die, I swear!"

Patrick moved in close to them and knelt down alongside. "It's now or never," he said. "If his cock doesn't go limp after that blow-off, then it's never gonna let you loose. Let me see if I can ease him out of you somehow. Hold still."

Even Hamlet seemed to have had enough of the ball game by this time. He did no growling or snarling as Patrick slid his hand up between their soppy bellies and leaned in to see what the prospects were.

"He's still locked in there tight, it looks like," Patrick said. He cautiously moved his fingers down along the line of Hamlet's groin and worked them around the base of his prick, tight-pressed against the thatch of Carol's pussy hair. The dog let out a little whine and Carol whispered, "Careful."

"I'll try spreading the outer lips of your pussy apart, Mrs. W., if you'll pardon my getting so familiar with your intimate parts. And then maybe you can manage to slide off this goddamn knobby shaft of his without tearing your cunt to bloody ribbons."

He fit his fingers carefully on the hot, squishy flaps of her weary snatch and as gently as possible peeled them back and caught them with his thumbs, stretching the pussy opening as wide apart as he possibly could.

She flinched and cried out, "Oh Jee-zus, man! Easy on that. My whole cunt is on FIRE, for God's sake."

"Come on, Hamlet-a little cooperation," he pleaded. "How about backing out of there, now that I've given you a little leeway. You can't go on balling this chick forever."

"It's-it's no use," Carol sighed. "I feel the goddman thing stuffing me just as tight as ever." "Shit," Patrick said, unhanding the merchant dise and sitting back on his haunches. "We really got a problem here, ma'am. The situation calls for drastic measures."

"What are you going to do? I'm getting scared now. I'd die if we had to get a doctor or-or the police, or something."

"Cold water didn't work," he said. "Let's try local applications of ice, next thing. Okay?"

"Anything! Try anything! But HURRY, god-damnit!"

Patrick rustled up a tray of ice cubes from the kitchen and then moved in on the subject to try his luck again. He chewed and sucked a couple of cubes down to slivers, and then he pried her cunt lips apart again and pushed the thin ice pieces up between her pussy walls and the tightly jammed dog cock.

"If this doesn't cool that bastard's hot bone down to an inchworm, then I don't know what the hell it's gonna take, by God."

Whether it was the ice applications that did the trick or not they never were sure, but almost immediately after that the miracle happened all in a second before Patrick even realized it. Hamlet leaped up away from her suddenly and bounded off into a far corner of the room, where he curled himself in a heap and went to work licking on his poor overfucked weenie.

Carol let out a huge sigh of relief and exhaustion and just lay where she was, sprawled on her back on the spattered and smeared carpet.

"We better get you swabbed out and cleaned up, hadn't we?" Patrick offered.

"I'll-I'll be all right now. Just leave me, please."

He stood up, astonished. "You want me just to cut out now that you're all rescued and everything? Thanks a lot, and now get lost, ya' bum -is that it? I could at least help you to the bathroom, don't you think?"

"Wilf you please go," she snapped peevishly. "I tell you I don't need any more help from you. It was a stupid accident and you can just forget that it happened, that's all. Come around tomorrow at the usual time and pick up Hamlet."

He settled down into a chair shaking his head. "I don't believe what I'm hearing. I'm just supposed to forget all about the freak show I busted in on here today-is that it? You've gotta be kidding, lady!"

"You needn't think this makes any difference. It's all over with now. You helped me out and I'm grateful-don't think I'm not. But it doesn't give you any special privileges, so you can get that out of your head."

He began laughing at the ludicrousness of the situation before him. Here was the high and mighty Mrs. Wright back up on her high horse again, snottier than ever. And the really idiotic part of it was that while she was giving him this big bullshitty talking to, she was lying out on the floor at his feet, stark bare-ass naked, her crotch spread wide open still, looking like some waterfront tramp that's just come through a gang bang.

"What the hell are you laughing at?" she demanded, and he laughed all the harder.

"I'm just wishing again that I had that camera of mine. I'd love to have a picture of this for my memory book-you all sprawled out and fucked-looking like that."

She blushed, realizing all of a sudden what an obscene spectacle she must be, and she rolled over onto her side, facing away from him. "Will you please get the hell out of here," she muttered.

"Hell no-I've got no place to go. I work here, remember?" He stood up and reached out for her. "Come on, Miss dog-fucker. We're going to take ourselves a bath. You look like a goddamn pig right at the moment, and I don't like fucking a pig."

"If you don't get out of here this minute I'll call the police."

"The what?" .

"I'll swear that you attacked me. That won't be hard for them to believe, by the looks of me. Anyone can see that I've been beaten up and raped." She laughed.

He laughed along with her. "Okay then-as long as I'm getting nailed with a rape rap, I might as well have the pleasure of committing the atrocity that I'm charged with."

"What do you m-" But she didn't finish her question, for he grabbed her up off the floor immediately in a rough boob and crotch grip.

"I'm gonna have the pleasure of scrubbing the living shit out of your sweet hide, Mrs. W., and then I'm gonna have the much greater pleasure of fucking your pretty pink ass off."

She pounded at him with her fists and tried to kick at him besides. "Put me down this minute, you goddamn-"

At that point Hamlet sprang up to his feet again with a snarl and show of teeth, but Patrick barked right back at him, "Get down there, Hamlet. DOWN, boy! Lie down!"

The dog looked confused for a moment, and then settled back into his corner again and yawned.

Patrick laughed. "You see, you're not the only one that's got that dog trained. I believe he's had about enough violent exercise for one day. He's not looking for any new hassles."

"You insolent bastard," she shouted, writhing and squirming as he hauled her toward the bathroom, one leg dragging behind. "You'll regret this, you PRICK!"

"Hey hey, what kind of talk is that in front of an under-age dog? You'll corrupt him, if you keep that up."

He heaved her slimy carcass down into the sunken bathtub and turned on the cold water tap full force. She let out a wild shriek. "Yike! You motherfucker!" She tried to scramble over the side of the tub, but Patrick held her down and slammed shut the shower door enclosures around her, penning her in. Then he quickly stripped off his own clothes before he opened the doors again and stepped inside. Carol was huddled in a corner, shivering violently, her hands fumbling at the handles above her head, trying to cut off the icy torrent.

Patrick turned on the hot faucet and adjusted the flow until it was of medium temperature, and then he knelt down beside her and began soaping up her ravaged hide.

She was still shuddering all over, but she had quieted down now and was no longer resisting him. "What are you going to do to me?" she asked him in a little baby voice.

"Shut up or you'll get soap in your mouth," he said, and swabbed a big handful of suds across her jaw.

He proceeded to give her a hard palm and knuckle rub all over every inch of her torso, showing no mercy for her tender spots and scratches. Whenever she winced and flinched away from his hard grabbing and scouring, he would growl, "Hold still, goddamnit," and give her an extra slap on the tender spot.

As he worked over each part of her aristocratic person, he passed crude and lewd comments on her plus and minus physical qualities. "That's a fairly nice pair of knockers for a chick that's past thirty, no shit. Just beginning to sag a little there, but not too noticeable yet. Next time you look in the mirror though, you might take note that the right knocker hangs a little lower down your rib cage than the left. And the nipple's sort of swollen and stretched out on that particular tit too, or is that some of Hamlet's doings? Is he a tit-nipper, that old hound? Or does he just go for straight pussy action?"

She made no replies to any of his comments and questions, but squatted before him, submit- ting to whatever insolent liberties his hands were taking with her, like a small child letting itself be bathed.

He laid her back against the tiles and sprawled her legs apart and then spent a great deal of time working around her crotch regions, carefully washing and caressing and probing every inner and outer surface of her pussy slit, clitoris, cunt-trough, ass-crack and shit-hole.

"Did that dog ever give it to you up your asshole, Mrs. W.?" he asked her as his soapy finger delved deep up into the mysterious shit-passages of her inner rectum.

She didn't answer, and he slapped her hard across the face. "Answer me when I ask you a question, Mrs. W."

"No," she mumbled.

He slapped her again and gave her asshole an extra gouge with the swollen knuckle of his index finger. "No what?"

"No, he never did."

"Never did what?"

"Hamlet never fucked my asshole!" she shouted.

He laughed. "Well, we'll have to try that action on for size next time around-find out how it works. See if he gets his weenie stuck up in your fanny the same way it got stuck in your cunt."

"No more of that business," she said. "I've learned my lesson."

"Bullshit, no more," he said. "Now that I'm one of the family here, I'm looking forward to seeing you and old Rover try it all kinds of ways. That turns me on, no shit, watching you two doggy-balling on the floor like that. From here on, Hamlet and I are gonna swap off on putting it to you, Mrs. W. Between the two of us, you're gonna have all the cunt and asshole action you can handle and then some."

She only sighed, assuming he was teasing her now, but too weary and resigned to his dominance to care. He peeled back the lips of her cunt again as he had done earlier, and wormed a long finger up inside to the third knuckle. It felt like a fiery rod stabbing her badly chafed pussy track, but she didn't even flinch.

"How's that feel, cunt-wise?" he asked, twisting his finger about in the passage, knowing it must be tormenting her ravaged membranes cruelly. But she only drew a deep breath and closed her eyes. He smiled, realizing that this was her bag after all. Just as he'd guessed in the first place-she was one of those freaks that needs a dose of pain with her pleasure. Whether it was dished out by a man or a great Dane dog didn't matter-but this gouged cunt-these black and blue bruises-this crisscross of body scratches-were no accident. With a warm glow of pleasure and in cock-stiffening anticipation of delights to come, Patrick settled the fact in his mind that the battle was won-from here on this lily-white angel was all his to screw, blue and tattoo in any way he saw fit.

So what was he waiting for? Looking at her he could see that she was halfway to an orgasm state right now, just from all the prodding and squeezing and finger-diddling of his ravishing, raping hands. Her head was lolling back on the tiles, her eyes blinking rapidly, with only the whites showing under the lids, her breath coming in little quick gasps.

He grabbed both her legs suddenly, underneath the knees, and dragged her ass forward away from the wall. Her head and shoulders flopped down and she was sprawled full-length, half submerged in the roiling, sudsy water of the sunken tub. Her hair swirled about her face as she gaped up at him dumbly, completely under his spell now-completely reduced from a proud woman to a mindless physical body, completely oriented to its cunt-end- a fleshy mass of stark naked lust, silently, passively begging to be outrageously abused.

He lowered his own body onto hers, positioned his chest on her squashed boobs-his hard belly on her sleek midriff. The rising tide of the bath water was lapping over her body and squishing between their flesh as he squirmed about, threading the swollen bludgeon-head of his rock-hard prick up into the slack-lipped entry way of her cunt canal.

He soaped the palm of his hand and clapped it over his long cock-shaft, lathering up his tool so as to grease the skids on the insert, and then he heaved his ass and pressed forward, ramrod-ding his sudsy member up and up her pussy, clear to the hilt. Then he writhed his hips and ground his belly hair against her pussy bush, growling in his throat with the warm satisfaction of having gutted Miss Rich-bitch at last.

Her eyes blinked open suddenly and she smiled up at him. "Are you in the hole yet?" she said. "I don't feel a fucking thing."

He grinned back at her. "I don't happen to have a big fat knob on my ding-dong like old Rover, but I'll see what I can do about getting the message through to you."

He dipped his hands down into the water and splashed suds up into her face, setting her gasping and sputtering, and then he delved down under her ass cheeks, grabbed a firm hand-hold on both buns, and began driving his prick in and out her cunt with great force, while rocking her ass against his crotch in the same rhythm.

"How is it so far?" he yelled at her, as he . stepped up the pace of his pounding. "Feel anything up in that dead cunt of yours yet?"

She gasped out some kind of an answer, but in opening her mouth to speak she nearly swallowed a mouthful of soapy water and she began spitting and spewing again.

He laughed. "What's that you say? You want a drink of water? Just a second." Still ramming his fuck into her without missing a beat, he maneuvered her body around in the soapy swamp until her head was directly underneath the spigot of the pouring tap. Then he reached up and turned off the hot faucet completely, leaving her half-drowning in a pure, ice-cold torrent.

In desperation she twisted her body sideways to escape the freezing deluge, and they both rolled over sideways with a great splash-Patrick still ass-humping and cock-driving without letup, laughing uproariously at the wild pleasure of the high society body-wallow, his favorite bathroom sport by far.

"You-p-prick!" she stammered, her body shuddering all over. "Y-you-you-" But then the tides of lust all of a sudden overwhelmed her completely, bursting like rockets in her guts, setting off a Fourth of July orgasm sequence in the depths of her cunt, and she clutched insanely at Patrick's arms and back, clawing with her nails and screeching out at the top of her lungs, "Oh, Gaw-w-w-w-w-wd! Fu-u-u-u-u-uck! Ya-a-a-a-a-ah!"

"Me too, by God," Patrick muttered, as his own rockets took off at the same moment, and he sent a two-week's accumulation of heavy cream machine-gunning up into her cunt-shaft.

After they had both drained their batteries to depletion, they clung together in the suds, still cock-and-cunt connected, until the water started to turn chilly around them, and then Patrick kicked open the glass door and they came tumbling up out of their sex-pool and sprawled together in a big puddle on the fluffy-matted floor adjacent to the bath.

"Okay, now it's Hamlet's turn again," he said, pulling his dripping prick out of her slimy hole and squeegeeing it in his fist. "Notice there's no problem of me getting disconnected from that overfucked cockpit of yours, Mrs. W. We didn't need any ice cubes or prying devices of any kind. Easy in and easy out. Don't you think you'd be better off sticking to human peckers after this? What the hell did you ever want to go and get mixed up with that outsized hound for anyhow? Just a glutton for punishment-is that your problem?"

She opened her eyes slowly and let out a big sigh. Her voice sounded very weary, drained of all energy. "I don't know, goddamnit. I'm always having to try some new freaky scene- nothing is ever far enough out for me. I've done every fucking thing there is to do with cocks and cunts and mouths and assholes. Guys, chicks, gang-fucks, orgy-games-I've tried 'em all and they all bore the shit out of me. .What else is there left? I thought a big, rough, horny stud animal might turn me on to some new level of orgasms."

"You mean even Hamlet disappointed you?"

"He was a lot of fun at first, but how many things can you do with a dog? I was going to send him back to the kennel next week anyway."

Patrick laughed. "And then what? Was it supposed to be my turn next?"

She smiled and shrugged. "You just had your turn. That was it."

"You mean I flunked the test? Bullshit, lady-I haven't even gotten started yet. You may think you've tried everything, but I may just show you a few tricks you haven't yet run across." He jumped up and went over to the toi- let to piss. "The first thing we do," he said, "is get rid of that fucking mutt, just like you planned. You won't be needing him anymore now. As of today I'm taking over his personal watchdog duties. I'll be sleeping in your boudoir from now on instead of old Hamlet. And all you have to do for me in return is feed me my doggy rations every day and give me an occasional run in the backyard for exercise."

She staggered to her feet unsteadily and stood leaning against the wash bowl, still blinking drunkenly. "It's no use, Patrick. Today spoiled it-I can't let you stay around here anymore after this. I wish things had worked out differently, but it-It's just impossible, can't you see?"

He moved back to her and grabbed her arms. "No, I can't see. What are you trying to tell me, Mrs. Tight-ass-I'm fired? Is that it? You mean I don't even get two week's notice and severance pay?"

"You'll be paid off-don't worry. Very well paid."

He laughed and squeezed her arms even harder. "Oh, so you're buying me off too! A little discreet silence-is that what you're paying for? Don't mention anything about the doggy-fiicking around the cocktail party crowd-is that your message?" He jammed a hand down between her legs and seized her pee-parts in a hard grab, digging and squeezing the ravaged surfaces. She winced and grabbed his wrist.

"Please," she whispered. "Don't make it difficult."

He spit out his words. "You can keep your fucking money, Mrs. W., I don't need you or your goddamn job. I'll just clear the hell out as soon as I gather up my things, if that's okay with you. But first, just to sort of put everything back in its normal place again around here, I'd better restore you to the place where I first found you today. It only seems right somehow."

Tightening his arm and cunt grip on her, he suddenly heaved her body up over his shoulder and headed out of the bathroom carrying her.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she screamed. "No more of this now, do you hear?"

"Just setting everything back in its rightful situation, is all," he said. He kicked open the bedroom door and stormed in. Hamlet, his energies already restored to full vigor after his short rest, was up and barking to greet theix- return.

"I brought your hot bitch back to you," Patrick told him. "I hope you're all ready to ball again, old Rover, 'cause this red hot pussycat is really crying for it-no shit. I got all the juicy openings warmed up and greased for you, so you'll have no problems slipping in any hole of your choice. As for slipping out again afterwards-well, that's gonna have to be a problem between you two. I'm sorry-once I get you connected up here and balling, I'm gonna have to cut out to an urgent appointment, but I'm sure that when you put your heads together you'll figure out some way of uncoupling again without all that hassle we had earlier. Ice cubes might do it if all else fails. Or, if you can manage to hobble to a telephone somehow in your interconnected state, you can call your friendly local police and they'll send over a couple of bestiality specialists from the animal rescue squad-have you unplugged in no time flat."

Carol was completely drained of all her base passions now and in a cold state of fury. "Put me down, goddamn you," she screamed at him as he still carried her sprawled form across his shoulder, with a steely hand still locked up under her hairy undergut. "I'm telling you for the last time, you son of a bitch-get out of this house right now or I'll have you put away for life, and don't think I can't do it!"

But he was paying no attention whatever to her tirades, and her fists beating on his back were only butterfly flutters. "Come on, Hamlet," he invited the tail-wagging beast. "Come and get the meat while it's still hot and juicy."

He flipped her body down across an armchair and sprawled her out over it with her rear end humped up over the arm, presenting an inviting target. Then he stood over her back, leaning over her to hold her down, and slapped his hands on her upthrust hunkers.

"Here, Hamlet-come get it, boy. You can sure as hell get it up one more time when there's a sweet hole like that one there presenting itself for free buggering. You think that cunt-fucking was big laughs, man-wait till you try the pretty lady's corn-hole. It'll give you a tight squeeze-off like you wouldn't believe. Hamlet, baby, you'll be telling them about this fuck down at the kennel for years to come. The day you screwed Carol W.'s practically virgin asshole. There haven't been more than twenty-five or thirty guys in there ahead of you. And as far as I know, you're definitely the first dog to do the honors. Come on, man-climb on and get driving. I'll help you run it in the hole-don't worry. That's what I'm here for. Part-time chauffeur and assistant dog-fucker, that's my job around here. And seeing as how it's my last day on the job, I want to leave everybody happy, so you'll all give me a good recommendation in case I apply for this kind of work again. So, up boy! Hit it!"

He "gave Carol's ass another swat and the eager, wide-eyed dog bounded forward and leaped up with his forelegs over her back, tongue drooling, tail thrashing. Patrick grabbed onto his front legs and pulled him forward, bringing his underbelly up tight against Carol's spread ass-end.

"Atta boy-push in there, man."

With the great weight of the dog pressing her body down, Carol was helpless to move out from under, and Patrick let her loose now and concentrated on helping Hamlet to guide his fast-stiffening pecker up between her slats and onto the shithole target.

Carol was letting fly a steady stream of abuse and threats through all of this, but Patrick had buried her head under two pillows and so she was considerably muffled and totally unintelligible. Anyway, Hamlet was barking loudly enough by-this time to drown out all other attempts at communication.

It was not the major engineering project that Patrick had feared, screwing Hamlet's genital gimlet into Carol's elegant asshole. As Patrick had guessed, this was by no means the first unorthodox implement that had found its way up her tail pipe, and it turned out to be a fairly easy passage.

In no time at all the giant beast was firmly connected and heaving and driving furiously toward his fifth or sixth doggy orgasm of the day -he had long since lost count of the exact number-but he was wondering incidentally how much longer before breakfast.

It being a considerably tighter hole than her well-fucked pussy, however, it might very well be that there was a considerable problem afterwards of withdrawing Hamlet's bulbous dog-dick from her tight-grabbing shit-shaft, but Patrick didn't wait around to find out. As soon as the ass-fuck was obviously under way successfully, and grooving along in fine style, he slipped out of the room quietly so as not to disturb the young lovers, picked up his clothes from the bathroom, and headed back to the chauffeur's quarters to gather up his gear and decamp.

He never did get a report from Carol afterwards on how it all turned out, although he has run into her casually a few times since at parties and nightclubs and incidental chic spots. But she doesn't seem at all inclined even to ac- knowledge their acquaintance any more for some reason, and up to now has declined to answer his questions on the subject of her last passion session with her canine love.

Chapter Three Down, Down, Down On The Farm

Grace K. is a very pretty young woman of twenty-two, now working as a waitress in an all-night diner on a main highway in the Midwest. She has a lively good nature and is extremely popular with the interstate truckers and local studs who hang around the place or drop by whenever they're in the neighborhood. The word among them is that she's a good little old gal and she's had a rough time of it, but you never hear her bitch and she sure is one sweet piece of ass, I'll tell you that.

I was not able to verify her "piece of ass" qualities at first hand, but I think the story which she told me of her teen years as an orphan child, in a virtual slave-state on a rundown farm, at the mercy of her indifferent foster parents and their two brutal young sons, bears out the statement that she has indeed had a rough time of it.

She readily agreed to an interview session with me, and told me her whole unpleasant story of bestial degradations with remarkable good humor.

"That's all in the past," she said. "Right now I got it made, man. So what's the point of crying over what's finished?"

What follows is the story of the torments and incredible bestiality ordeals tht she endured in that dark period of her life-the story just as she told it to me.

Case 3 Grace K.

If you've never been a ward of the county, where you're handed around from one family to another and never now what it is to have real folks of your own or anybody in the wide world that gives a continental fuck whether or not you live or die, then you don't know what it is to be a miserable kid and what a drag chidhood can be. I never knew my old man at all, and my mother gave me up when I was seven. She ran off with this guy then, and he didn't want to be bothered with having no brats around, so the old lady dumped me in the county Childrens' Relocation and Adoption Center. Sounds like a real big deal, don't it? But all it was is a plain old- fashioned goddam orphanage with a fancy name.

There's some kids that would be stuck there the whole time till they was eighteen-ones that was sick or was always making trouble- but most of us got loaned out to families that contracted to take care of us for particular periods of time, and then after that we'd move on to someplace else.

I must've been in and out of about six or seven different homes around the city over the next few years, and mostly it was pretty shitty living, believe me. The bastards would work you like a dog and practically starve you to death to save money on the food allowances they got.

When I was twelve, me and this boy that was in the same house at that time run off together -we was going to hitchhike to California-but the cops caught us and brung us back, and all we got out of it was a whipping. We would've tried it again after that, but they fucked us up by sending the boy off to another home right away, and I never had the guts to try running just on my own.

Then, when I was going on fourteen, I thought I was getting this beautiful break-they told me I was gonna be sent to a real farm out in the country, with animals and fields and woods and a pond for swimming and everything. It was like going to heaven to me, the way it seemed at first.

It turned out to be just a little farm-real rundown-but that didn't matter none to me. I loved being out in the wide open, and I even had a room all to myself. In the city I always had to sleep two-to-a-bed with some other damn girl.

There was two other kids there-the real sons of this old couple of farts that owned the place. The boys was about my age or a little older, and I thought things was gonna be real groovy for me, cause they was good-looking boys and seemed awful nice and polite and friendly when I first met them at the dinner table.

It didn't take long, though-about the second day I started learning my lessons about how things was gonna be for me. In the first place, there was about a thousand jobs to be done around the place, and it seemed like I was expected to do about ninety percent of them. Them fucking lazy boys didn't have to do shit themselves. They was so spoiled by their old lady, she let them get away with blue murder, and the old man didn't give a crap, cause he was halfways drunk practically all the time anyhow.

So all these goddam boys done all the day long was pester the living daylights out of me, and it didn't take any time at all before I learned what kind of shit I'd fell into there at that place.

The first morning, the old lady, Mrs. Benson, sent me to the barn to feed the chickens and gather up whatever eggs there was. I said I didn't know how to feed them or nothing, but she said the boys would go along and show me how.

Well, we went down to the barn, and it didn't take but a minute for me to see what feeding chickens wasn't what was on their mind. We no sooner got inside the door before they went at me.

The biggest boy, Petey, starts right off poking at my ass, and I pulled away from him and said,"Quit that, now," but the other one, Frank grabbed me from behind and pressed his hands right out over my boobs and squeezed real hard. I tried to pull away, but it hurt, the way he was digging and twisting on them.

"Hey, we're gonna have lots of fun with you," he says with a real dirty laugh.

Petey starts pulling up my dress and I let out a squeal and kicked him on the shin. He got madder than hell.

"What the fuck's the matter with you?" he says. "Didn't you ever fuck before?"

"Cut it out, now," I yelled. "I'll tell your mother if you kids start any of that."

They both laughed and Petey gave me a slap on the face. "You ain't telling nobody, you little bitch. You been in plenty of other homes-I know all about you. You must have fucked with lots of boys before. Every girl that's in foster homes always does it with everybody. Don't you think I know?"

"No I don't. I never did! You let me GO now, you bastards."

"Don't tell me you're a fucking CHERRY!" Frank says.

"I am-I AM!" I yelled-as if they was gonna swallow that shit. I should've known I'd never get away with it. What Petey said was true-there's hardly any girls that stay virgins in them foster homes for very long. Boys in homes always want to find that out the first thing when a new girl gets sent there-whether or not she's a virgin-and if she ain't, then they don't have no hesitations about helping them-self to free fuckings of her any time they feel like it from then on. The grownups don't generally give a shit, as long as nobody gets pregnant.

"We'll sure find out soon enough," Petey says. "Shit-a girl big as you with tits like them, I bet you had it plenty of times already."

They dragged me down in the hay and pulled my dress way up and started yanking at my panties, ripping them all to shit. I was yelling like crazy and kicking and thrashing around, but they was pretty strong boys and you can't fight too much when somebody's got your boobs in a hard squeeze like that. So it wasn't too long before they had my crotch all unwrapped and spread wide open, and then I felt this hot hand of Petey's grabbing up under my cunt and poking fingers in my slit to see if the hole was open or not.

Then he lets out this wild Indian yippee that you eouldirVe heard in the next county. "Yahoo! Looka here, man! WIDE open! She gotta pussy-hole like a fucking milk cow, goddammit. Hey, Frank-look look look!"

He grabbed onto my legs and lifted them way up in the air, splitting them way wide apart so my pussy and everything was all spread open where anybody could see up the hole and everything. Then he drops me down again and Frank lets go my boobs and they both start prancing around the floor like crazy nuts, yelling at the top of their lungs, "We got ourself a chick to fuck! Man, we got a fucking chick!"

Like that was the biggest deal in the whole world.

"Let's get all her fucking clothes off," Frank says. "Let's see her bare-ass."

At this point I was getting scared shitless. It wasn't just the idea of getting fucked or being naked. I'd had my share of getting laid before in all them different homes. But these two kids was acting so completely screwy, I thought they was gonna kill me or something. I didn't ever see anybody get so excited just about fucking a chick before.

So I jumped up and tried to make a run for it out of the barn, yelling, "Mrs. Benson! Mrs. Benson! HELP!"

Well, shit-that was my first big mistake of the day. They caught me in a flying tackle and the next thing I knew, the both of them bastards was all over me and clobbering the shit out of me.

"Shut up, you little squealer. You don't tell nobody nothing or we KILL you, you little bitch, and don't forget it!"

They didn't ever hit me in the face cause they didn't want to make no marks or bruises that would show later, but they gave me hell all around the ribs and on my titties and everything, and that ain't no fun, getting whacked around them parts. So I quieted down and quit struggling pretty quick, and after that I just laid still and let them do whatever they wanted, fig- uring I didn't have no other choice. I reckoned that maybe if I let them both fuck me one time, then maybe after that they'd let me be and things might be okay afterwards, but if I only knew it, my troubles with these two bastards was only just beginning.

Anyways, once they got me quieted, the first thing they done was strip me completely bare-ass-every stitch-and they both took their clothes off too, and then they started rassling me around in the hay there on the floor, feeling me all over the place and squeezing the shit out of my tits and biting on them and everything, and poking their fingers up in my pussy and digging it with their nails and spitting in it and poking straw up inside and up my ass, and all that kind of going on. It was the first time I'd ever fooled around like that with two boys together at one time, but it wasn't too bad. All the tickling and biting and stuff was kind of fun actually, and by the time they come around to actual fucking and rammed their weenies up into me, I was sort of in the spirit of it and giggling and not really minding it at all.

First one, then the other fucked me the regular way, and then they both took a second turn, and up to that point things was okay and I was thinking it could be a lot of fun messing around with these kids like this all summer long. I hadn't ever enjoyed fucking so much before as I did that time.

But as soon as they had their belly-full of screwing me, they turned mean at that point, the way boys usually do, and I started to get a sample then of the kind of shit I really was in for from then on.

After Frank took his second turn at pumping my pussy and shot off his nuts, then Petey said, "What shall we do with her now? Let's have some real fun with her."

That's when I found out what their idea of real fun was. Screwing was just something to turn them on in the first place. They didn't really get warmed up and interested though until they got into these other kinds of crap that their minds dreamed up. What gave them the most jollies, it was pretty obvious, was seeing me get teased. The more I suffered, the funnier them bastards thought it was.

"What should we do to her?" Frank asks. "Something real real horrible." He's jumping up and down and clapping his hands-just about to shit he's so excited over the idea of giving me the business. I wasn't making too much fuss at that point-just laying there quiet, waiting to see what the hell I was in for next. I'd learned a long time ago that when youre getting teased or picked on or gang-fucked or beat up or playing torture games or whatever things some kids are doing to you, it's always better if you don't make a lot of crying and wailing and begging them not to do it, cause then they just make fun of you all the more and it seems to stir them up and get them meaner than ever. But if you let on like you don't give a shit what they do to you, then it sort of takes the fun out of it for them, and they usually let you off easier.

So they started in talking over what kinds of things they would do to me, and they just couldn't make up their mind, it seemed like. Frank was the meanest one, with the ideas he thought up, and I was glad that Petey didn't usually listen to none of his suggestions. Things like chucking me head first down the crap-hole in the shit house, and fucking my pussy with one of the big old root beer bottles that there was laying around the barn. I could do without them kinds of ideas.

Then Petey comes up with the big bright idea they been looking for. "Hey, let's see if Mike will fuck her. That would be murder with his big prick! What do you think?"

Mike was this huge black bull they had on the place, and that bugger would've tore me apart if he ever was to ram that shaft of his up in me. Wow, what a dumb idea!

Frank showed some sense for once, I was glad to see. "Mike's too big. He'd crush her to death and daddy would get mad."

"Well, how about the goat then? He ain't so big. I bet he could fuck her beautiful, if we was to set him up on her just the right way. Come on, let's go and try it."

So that turned out to be the plan, no shit- and no way of getting out of it. Them two bastards was just tickled silly over the idea of setting that mangy old goat onto me and seeing if he could fit his weenie up my wee-wee.

I have to admit I was kind of scared as the idea of it happening. I'd had all kinds of things stuck in me by kids before that-pricks of all sizes, and fingers and toes and pens and pencils and sticks and straws and even a live wiggly worm one time that ended up getting all squashed, but I hadn't ever had no animal pricks fuck me-that was for sure. There was this one girl I knew that used to let a little puppy lick on her pee-pee with his tongue, and she said it felt awful nice and tickly, but I never did know of anyone actually letting some animal's weenie poke up inside them.

But, like I said before, I wasn't letting on to them that I was in no panic or they was liable to switch back to the idea of trying it with Mike the bull, and no THANKS!

Getting me down to the goat pen from the barn wasn't too much fun for me either, it turned out. They each of them grabbed onto one of my ankles and just ran off, dragging me behind them like a sack of potatoes, bumping my ass and my head all over the ground the whole way, and I would up all scratched and scraped to the dickens by the time we got there.

Then they went through this big long hassle between them about how in holy hell they was ever gonna get the damn silly goat to cooperate and go through with the nutty plan.

"Stick her up on the fence with her fanny hanging down the other side," Petey said, "and then we'll raise up the goat's front legs and he can poke up her cunt from the hind end."

"He ain't even got a hard-on though," Frank said. "How can we get his weenie hard?"

"You do it, Gracie," Petey said to me. "Play with his dick and see if it will."

"He'll kick me," I said.

"You don't have to get behind him," Petey said. "Crawl down under his belly while we hold his head, and diddle around with his prick some. I betcha it'll work the same as on a boy."

So I done what they told me, feeling a little scary about it though. He kicked his hind legs around some when I first started, but the boys was hanging onto his head real tight so he couldn't really get at me, cause goats can only do harm to you actually by either kicking out behind or else butting you on the front end.

I tickled his balls a little bit, which was dangling down there up above me. Lots of times you can get a boy real hot, I knew, just by sort of fiddling with his nuts that way, but it didn't seem to have no effect that I could see on this old goat. He just shuffled his hoofs around a little and made some ba-a-a ba-a-a kind of noises the way they do.

"Not his balls, for Chrissakes," Petey yelled. "Play with his damn prick, for cry-eye!"

So then I began to run my hand up and down on this pecker of his, but it didn't look like it was doing a damn thing for him. I was just as glad to see that it wasn't working, frankly, cause I wasn't in no hurry to actually go through with getting screwed by some old animal's weenie, that's for sure. I figured it would probably hurt you real bad.

Then that damn little piss-ant Frank has to open his big mouth. "Why not have her cock-suck him instead? I bet with her mouth she could make him get a hard-on all right. That always works the best."

So that was the next thing they made me do -get right down under his hairy old weenie with my face and let it stick in my mouth, and then lick it all over with my tongue. Ooh, did I hate that! It was like taking some old piece of rope or something like that into your mouth and licking on it-it gives you shivers all over just from the feel of it. And it seemed silly to me too, cause I never thought sucking would work on no goat. I didn't reckon he'd even be able to feel my little bitty mouth nibbling on him the way I was doing.

But son of a gun if his old pecker didn't start going stiff right away before I'd even half started on it. I could feel it swelling up in my mouth and sort of bumping around in there, instead of just dangling limp the way it was in the first place. As soon as it started to straighten out and swell, I wanted to quit right then and there, but they made me go on licking and lapping on it for quite awhile after they seen the effect it was having. I was getting pretty nervous, cause for all I knew it might've been almost ready to shoot off that stuff that squirts out of pricks, and I didn't want no old goat coming that way inside my mouth, for cry-eye. It's bad enough when boys do that, and then they even expect you to swallow it.

But thank heavens it didn't go that far. Before too long Petey says, "Come on, that's hard as he's ever gonna get. Let's try the goddam fuck now. Get up here, Grace-hurry up, before he cools off again and loses interest."

So I scrambled out from under that smelly old goat, and then while Petey held onto him to keep him from jumping all around-he was acting real wild and hory by then, with that weenie of his all puffed up for business-Frank lifted me up on top of the fence and sort of hung me over it, bent in the middle, with my head hanging down the one side and my feet stuck out the other.

"That's too high up," Petey said. "How can the damn goat's prick ever reach her way up there? Stick her in between them two middle rails with her ass out this end. Then it will be lined up perfect."

"What's he gonna do-fuck her in the ass, for cry-eye?" Frank wanted to know. I was wondering the same thing myself.

"No, stupid," Petey said. "In her pussy, of course. Animals always stick it in from the hind end though. Didn't you ever see them fuck?"

"I seen dogs and horses. They always climb up on the other one's back."

"Well, that's the exact same thing we're gonna do, only the goat would most likely break her fucking back if he leaned all his weight on her, wouldn't he, so that's why we're using the fence. We'll stick his front legs up over the top of the fence, and then his prick, the way it's sticking straight out now, will come in just the right place to go up her slit and fuck her."

"I bet it ain't gonna work," Frank says. "Look how big that prick of his is now. That won't even fit in that wee tiny hole of hers. Even my prick I had a hard time getting it in. And I ain't half as big as that old billy goat."

"You always have trouble getting in girls' pussies," Petey says. "Even with big Betty it took you half an hour, cause you don't know how to do it right. You didn't see me fumbling around when I fucked her, did you? You can get almost any size thing up into a cunt if you work it right-screw it around a little and push hard. Cunts may not seem to be big when you first look at them, but they sure can stretch out a lot."

What he was saying is true, more or less. At least as far as my pussy is concerned, it sure didn't look like no more than a baby's to see it

-I didn't have hardly no hair at all on it yet at that age-but I never had no real trouble getting pricks into me, no matter what sizes they was. This one old guy that boarded me for a couple of months when I was about twelve-he used to always screw me like crazy whenever his wife would go out of the house, and he had a pecker like an elephant, I swear to God. It used to hurt like blue blazes sometimes when he'd shove up in me in a big hurry without giving me no time to get juiced up first, but I got used to it after awhile, and it never really hurt me too bad-didn't actually tear me, or nothing like that.

And, like I said before, I'd had every kind of other thing stuffed up in my wee-wee that you can imagine by some of them boys that I've had to live with-even a whole big kosher salami one time. And then the bastards ate it all up afterwards and they wouldn't even let me have one slice of it. That's how mean boys are.

Anyhow, with all the workouts my pussy'd had before, I wasn't too worried about that goat's pecker running up my hole. It was just getting cocked or butted or having a couple of ribs broke that had me worried. Just the pecker itself wasn't nothing to get all riled about, I didn't figure. I'd lots rather to have got fucked by it than to have had to suck it all the way to juicing, that's for sure. Shit on that sucking-off business.

So anyhow, they jammed me in between the two middle bars of the fence next thing, with my ass sticking out and my legs dangling down, and they made me spread my feet way way wide apart on the ground so that my cunt was all spread open from the rear view and they figured the goat would be able to zero in on it.

Then they had the problem of getting him reared up over me and into the position where it would work, and that wasn't so easy to do. That goat just didn't have the slightest idea in the world what in the holy hell they was planning for him, and whatever it was, he sure didn't want no part of it. He had himself that big long stiff-pecker, thanks to me, but he didn't act like he was the least bit interested in slipping it into my hind end. I sure didn't look like no female goat to him, I reckon.

"He don't want to fuck her," Frank said. "He won't never let us stick his prick into her."

"He will when he sees what it's gonna be like. He don't understand yet what the hell we're doing for him. Don't worry-once he feels his prick getting pussy-squeezed, he'll get the idea quick enough."

"I bet goats don't like to fuck people. How do you know it will be any fun for him?"

"Stupid-he got a hard-on quick enough when she sucked on him, didn't he? Anyhow, if you ever read stories in books, you'd know that goats love fucking girls. They used to do that all the time back in them old Greek days. Them myth stories are all full of goats capturing maidens in the woods and fucking their asses off. Everybody knows that."

"Everybody except this goat here," Frank says. "He must not've read them books."

"It's just cause he ain't ever had the chance to fuck a girl before and he don't know what he's missed. But you'll see him get interested any second now--just keep watching."

I never heard that before about goats screwing no maidens in Greece, and I reckoned it was just more of his bullshit. I could hear all this grunting and straining going on behind me, with them kids trying to drag the old billy goat up close to me and heave him up onto the fence to where his pecker would be able to get to me. It sounded like they was having all kinds of problems-the way that son of a gun was tromping around and bleating up a storm. I couldn't see a shitting thing that was going on, cause of course it was all behind me, me being wedged in the damn fence, and my face all dangling down in the grass on the opposite side from where they was. That was okay with me, cause I wasn't too anxious to see that big old hairy thing come crashing down on my poor back and crushing holy hell out of me. I had my eyes squinted and my teeth gritted, and it was some relief when I heard all this thumping and banging up above me on top of the fence, cause then I figured they'd got his hoofs stuck up there finally, and as long as he didn't slip loose and fall down again, maybe I'd be okay.

Then I could feel this bumping and shoving up against my legs and ass as they dragged him in to me, and I held my breath, figuring any second now I was about to get myself shafted.

"He still don't know what the fuck to do," Frank said, his voice sounded like he was really straining.

"Well, help him, goddammit," Petey yelled. I could tell by the sound that he was up above me, probably holding onto the goat's front hoofs. He sounded pretty pooped-out too. Them two crazy fools was killing themselves, by the sound of it, just for the sake of playing this stupid trick on me. But boys is always like that- anything for a joke.

"Lay hold of his pecker," Petey yells to

Frank. "Poke it up in there for him. How can he find the cunt-hole when he can't see it from where he is? You have to help him."

Frank says, "I ain't gonna take hold of no old goat's prick, for cry-eye. What the hell do you think I am? You come down and stick it in for him-it was all your idea in the first place."

"I have to hold him, don't I?" Petey says. "Go ahead, you little yellow coward. It ain't nothing to take hold of no goat's prick. How will he ever fuck her if it ain't inside her pussy? Just poke it in a little ways-then he'll know what he's supposed to do."

"Blahhr," says Frank. I don't know what he's pissing and moaning about. He thinks it's some big deal just to lay ahole of the goat's weenie. I had to even take it in my mouth, for cry-eye. Let him do that and see how he likes it!

The next thing I felt was something jabbing around the crack of my ass though, and I figured this was it! Hold on, kid-here it comes. Then right after that, sure enough, comes this hot, tickly thing messing around the outside edges of my twat, and then-kaJOOM-all of a sudden I'm shafted for real. Wow-whee! It felt just about like that salami run up inside me, the one that I mentioned before-not so big and stuffy, but it sure went up a long ways, and I don't ever remember getting tickled so far up inside my belly before by a weenie. It sort of made me shivery all over, and I grabbed onto two big clumps of grass and weeds to give me a grip, cause I figured once that big old goat started ramming his thing in and out of me, I better be hanging onto something, even if it's only a handful of milkweeds.

And then POW-comes this nudge against me that just about broke my ass with the force of it, and from there he just lit into this jabbing and poking one me at a fantastic crazy speed-the fastest fucking that had ever been done up me by anybody. It was the weirdest feeling you ever seen. After that first big wallop when he started out, it wasn't too hard on me though, being braced the way I was. It was just the crazy quick way he done it that suprised hell out of me. Most times when some prick is fucking you, you can always feel exactly how it goes in and out your cunt-each separate jab of it-but this wild old billy goat got going about a thousand miles an hour and it was all just a blur, the way it felt-like somebody jabbed a vibrating thing up your pussy and switched it on, and it's just shivering and tickling the shit out of you.

I didn't have no idea how it looked, with that goat ramming my rear-end the way he was, but I can only tell you how it felt to have it done to me. It must've been some nutty sight though, cause them boys was just busting their sides laughing over what they was seeing.

"There, look! Didn't I tell you?" Petey was saying. "I knew he'd do it once we got him started."

"Holy cow," Frank said. "I guess maybe he did read them Greek books after all."

Well, I had to wonder how long that damn goat could keep his ass bucking and weenie wanging away at that pace, and I wasn't too surprised that he didn't keep it up for long. All of a sudden this huge flood of stuff come swooshing up inside me-it felt like it was scalding hot-WOW! He must've come a couple of quarts, by the feel of it. And then, the second he was done popping his nuts, he let out this big ba-a-a-a-a-a and reared up, pulling loose from where Pete was hanging onto him, and I could feel his weenie come jerking out of my pussy, and all this hot goo of his went running down all over the inside of my legs.

Meantime, he's took off out of there-galloping away acrosss the field like sixty, still making them ba-a-a-a's all the way. I was stuck in that damn fence still-even with him gone I couldn't move none until the boys helped me to wiggle out, and I felt mighty glad that the whole thing was over and done with, that's for sure. It hadn't turned out to be so bad after all, though-it didn't seem like I'd got hurt by it in any way, although my pussy was sure feeling all tingly and stretched-out from it, and it was quite a while later before it got back to feeling the normal way again.

The boys was still busting their silly sides laughing over the whole thing, and it was a long time before they calmed down again and finally got me unstuck from the fence. Before they did, they done some more poking up in my pussy with sticks and things, trying to see how far that goat's weenie actually had went.

Then I was hoping they'd had enough of their damn fun for one day, but when we went back to the barn again to pick up them eggs that I was supposed to be gathering in the first place, goddam Petey got this other idea of sticking one of the eggs up inside my cunt-how's that for dumb?

"Get the biggest one we can find," he tells Frank, "and let's see how far up in her pussy we can stuff it without making it break."

So that was the next thing I had to put up with. They laid me down on my back in the hay, and then Frank took hold of the outside edges of my pussy crack with his fingers and pulled it way wide open, and then here comes Petey with this great big brown egg that he found, and he starts slipping it up inside me ever so careful, just little bitty nudges at a time-incy-by-inch -until I'll be damned if that thing wasn't completely gone from sight, and still he's poking his fingers up in there, shoving the egg way way up my cunt, more and more and more.

"Hold her cunt open more!" he yells at Prank. "Stretch it way way wide, for cry-eye."

"It won't spread open any wider," Frank says. It was beginning to hurt by that time, I'm telling you. Getting your pussy stretched out by a big prick going into it is one thing, but having some rough bastard like Frank practically tearing you apart like he was doing with his fingers ain't no fun at all. I was. really gritting my teeth on that one, and hoping they'd quit this shit before too long.

"Wow," Petey says, poking his eye right down close to my pussy opening and looking up inside like it was a peep-hole or something. "I can't even see that fucking egg any more. Where'd it go?"

"Maybe it came out her ass," Frank says.

Petey starts laughing then. "Now comes the real fun," he says, and he jumps up and reached out to grab hold of both my ankles, which are spread way open in this huge split. "Okay," he tells Frank, "let loose of her cunt now and watch this."

Frank leaves go of my snatch then and lets it close up again, and that sure was a relief. I could feel the egg up inside me though, like some huge rock, and I was wondering how the hell it would ever be able to come out.

"Here goes!" Petey yells. "Stand by for scrambled eggs!" He raised up my two ankles, still holding them as far apart as his arms can reach, and then real slow-like, he closes my legs together, and you can hear that damn egg go c-c-croonch-ch-ch inside my cunt, and all this gooey yoke comes running out, just like the goat's come-juice did a little while before.

Them nutty boys are splitting their sides again, pumping all over the place laughing up a storm at this big joke, but I wasn't laughing none myself, I'll tell you, cause them busted egg shells was digging the shit out of the inside of my pussy. I opened my legs up again real quick the minute Petey left go of me, and I went to work as quick as I could, fishing all them little bitty busted pieces of shell out of me.

Well, that was the end of the teasing for that first day. They didn't bother me no more after that, but other days it was the same kinds of things over and over. I didn't get no more fucking by the goat, but they done the egg trick to me a couple of other times, when there was boys from these other farms there to see it. And of course them other boys would get their chances to screw me too-Petey was so proud that he had a chick he could do anything he wanted with, he'd tell every other boy that he knew about it and invite them to come over anytime and treat theirselves to a free helping. But I never minded the straight screwing none-no matter how many boys it was. I was long ago used to that.

The tying up shit was another common thing, and I never did like that too much. Sometimes they'd just leave me tied in some out of the way place, like up in the loft of the barn, or some-wheres way way out in the woods, and it'd take me half the damn day to work my way out of the knots. Even worse though was when they'd string me up by the wrists off a tree, or else upside-down by the ankles from the barn rafters, and then they'd usually spin me around and swing me till I got so dizzy I couldn't see straight.

The silliest thing of all that they ever done though was one time with bugs. I think it was stupid Frank's idea at the start. I guess you could say it started that one day when they was having me suck them off hanging on the rope. We was down by the pond taking a swim and they'd been doing the usual mean things to me, like smearing me up with mud all over, and they even stuffed a smelly old dead fish up in my pussy too that day, I remember.

Then it got into this sucking thing, and they was both standing there in front of me right close together and I was trying to lick on both their peckers at the same time so they'd both come off at once, but it wasn't working too good cause my little old tongue just wasn't nowheres near long enough.

Then Frank comes up with one of his genius ideas as usual. "Hey, why don't we try upside-down suck-offs?"

"We done it lots of times upside-down," Petey says.

"No, I don't mean laying down," Frank says. "I mean with Gracie standing on her head."

"I can't stand on my head-so there," I said.

"One of us will hold your feet up in the air," Frank .says. "That's easy enough."

"No no-I'll tell you what," Petey says then. He always wants to change Frank's ideas around before he'll do them. "We'll hang her up- side down from the tree like we done that time when we spun her till she puked. Then we can hoist her to just exactly the right distance from the ground so that her mouth will come right on the level with our pricks. That will work beautiful!"

"She'll throw up again," Frank says. "I don't want her puking all over my prick."

"She won't throw up if we don't spin her around."

Well, as usual, no sooner said than done. These boys was always on the lookout for some new way to play around with me, and they didn't lose no time getting on with it once somebody came up with a crazy idea. Frank ran off and got the rope, and before I knowed it, there I was dangling by the goddam ankles off this big tree-limb. They hoisted me up and down a few times before they hitched it fast, letting my head plop down into the grass and then jerking me back up again. What nuts!

Then Frank moved in and stood right close to where I was dangling and Petey tied the other end of the rope so that my face was right there on the dead-level with Frank's pecker, and we was all ready to try the upside-down suck-off idea.

Before we started though, Frank had to fool around with all this other bullshit as usual- squashing his rear end against my face, pretending to wipe out his ass with my hair-all that kind of foolishness. He always pulled shit like that. And then he starts in trying to poke the end of his weenie up my nose.

"Hey, I found a new hole to fuck," he yells at Petey.

"That ain't new," Petey says. "I done it up Lucille's nose one time when we was only nine."

Then Petey comes over and pushes Frank away, cause he always wanted to go first on every new thing they ever done. He sets himself right up close against my face and flaps his pecker up and down against my chin and mouth and everything. "Okay, take hold of it," he says. "Start sucking." He wasn't even hard yet, up to this point, so I stuck my tongue out and began licking at" the end of his weenie, and it sure was a crazy feeling, having it all coming at you upside down that way. It took quite awhile for me to get used to it-get over the funny dizzy feelings-and it was hard to make his prick stay in my mouth and not keep slipping out, being at that funny upside-down angle.

But he got hard pretty quick-Petey never took much time getting his pecker up usually and then it wasn't too much trouble from there holding it inside my mouth and licking the head of it the way he liked to have me do.

I thought I was doing a pretty good job of it, but after awhile Petey pulls his prick out of my mouth and gives my hair a yank. "This ain't no good. It's stupid. Let her down again."

Frank says, "Oh shit-don't I get my turn? Come on. I want to try it."

"I feel like getting blowjobbed by the calf," Petey says. "He does it way better than Gracie anyhow. Come on-let's go down to the barn." .

Frank is pissed off though-he wanted to try it with me. "What are you gonna do with Gracie?" he says. "Just leave her hanging there?"

"Why not," Petey says. "Good place for her, ain't it? We'll let her down when we come back."

"Let's spin her before we go," Frank says, and he grabs me by the hair and pulls me towards him and then shoves me away in the other direction, so I start swinging back and forth like a damn pendulum on a clock, only all kind of wobbly and bouncy. And then that little son of a bitch pulls a real beautiful one. He stands there right in the line of where I'm swinging and he starts pissing a stream straight ahead, so every time my body swings past him, going and coming, I get this goddam pee-shower right square in the face. He's laughing like a bastard. The little prick-he got more charges out of doing dumb things like that to me than he did out of straight fuckings and suck-offs.

I thought they was gonna go away then and leave me like they said, dangling there the rest of the afternoon in the hot sun, but then Petey changed his mind, thank goodness.

"Ain't you gonna leave her?" Frank said when he seen Petey untying the rope all of a sudden.

"I got an idea," Petey said. "I want to see if the calf will suck her pussy the same way he sucks our pricks."

He untied the rope and let me drop down, and I was mighty glad to be back on my feet again. I hate that upside-down business anyhow. It takes you about a half-an-hour afterwards before everything starts looking right to you again.

I barely had time to go douse my face in the pond and wash off the pee before they were grabbing on me again and wanting me to hurry up and get over to the barn with them.

This suck-off business with the calf I'd seen them do before, but I wasn't ever involved in it myself up to now. They would smear molasses all around their weenies and then stick them up in the calf s face and she'd lick the syrup off of them, and the boys would get a hard-on while she was doing it, and after two or three times of putting on more molasses, they'd wind up shooting off their nuts.

So they done that for awhile on this particular day, and then they brung me in to try it.

"She ain't got nothing there to suck on," Frank said.

Petey said, "We'll smear it all around her pussy and ass anyhow and see if it tickles her when the calf licks it."

Well, that was pretty silly-of course it tickled. But I got a sort of a surprise out of it, cause it turned out to be more than just the usual funny, giggly kind of feeling of when somebody tickles you on the ribs or something. It started out that way, but then I began to get these real groovy pleasure feelings way way up deep inside me, like I'd get sometimes when a boy was fucking me for a long time, or the kind of feeling when you'd play with yourself. It was pretty pleasant and I was really digging it, but I never let on to them boys that it was fun for me, or else they would have put an end to it right off. They never wanted to do nothing that was fun for me. They only liked it when I was in some kind of an uncomfortable condition. Ac- tually, lots of times when they was fucking me or messing around other ways, I used to get these nice tickly feelings that was real pleasant, and I sort of liked the stuff they was doing to me in them cases, but like I say-I wouldn't ever let on to them that I did.

They had me setting up on the side of a stall there in the barn with my legs spread wide, and here was this little old calf swabbing his flip-floppy tongue all up and down my crack, and I was putting on all these frowny faces and making little grunty noises like it was a terrible strain to me being licked on like that, but actually it was all I could do to keep from laughing right out loud from the pleasure.

But after a little while the boys got tired of it anyhow, cause they wasn't getting the kinds of reactions they expected, I guess, and they chucked me down in the hay and set the calf to work licking on their pricks again.

I started to tell about what they done to me with' bugs though, and I'll come to that next, cause this licking on molasses with the calf was what led up to the bug idea.

A couple of days after all this other business I just mentioned was when they done it. They didn't tell me what they had in mind, but they brung the molasses jug with them from the barn and dragged me off to this big sandy pit down at the bottom of the pasture where the boys always went to rassle and do Indian fighting.

The only other time I went there with them was when they tied me down to the ground there, all apread-eagled out, with my hands and feet tied onto pegs stuck in the sand, the same way Indians used to do with their captives, according to Petey. They they left me there all the whole day, and I got such a sunburn as you wouldn't believe. At least there was no problem about that any more, cause I'd been left out in the sun by them boys so many times that I had a sun tan all over me by then, and I was getting browner all the time.

Still, I wasn't too keen on getting tied down like that a second time, and I figured that must be what they had in mind to do. I was only half-ways right, actually. The business they'd figured out for that day was to stake me down like before, all sprawled out naked on my back, but it wasn't just to let me roast in the sun this time. The new trick was that they smeared molasses all over my pussy the same way they done in the barn the other day, and they even poked big globs of it way up inside my crack. I couldn't figure out what for, cause there wasn't no calf or nothing there to lick on me.

But one thing there was there that I'd forgot about was trillions and trillions of goddam ants! That was the new trick. The place where they had tied me was right next to this huge ant hill, and what they figured was that all them damn tiny little ants would come after the molasses and go crawling all over my pussy and up my cunt and my ass and everything else and tickle me silly.

At least I thought it was tickling me that they had in mind, but Petey said, "They're gonna bite the shit out of her-you watch. Wait'll you hear her yelling."

Oh boy! That put a new slant on it. Tickling I didn't mind so much-I'd got plenty of that- but who wants to get bit all up inside their cunt and asshole and everything? That's for the birds. So I shut my eyes and set myself for a real bad time out of this trick.

At first nothing happened. The ants didn't seem too interested in the molasses, and they just went swarming around on the ground, not paying no attention to me. But then Frank smeared some of the molasses down onto the bottom side of my legs all the way to the ground, and he pushed some of the ants over towards that direction, and then it wasn't no time before I started feeling these little tickles starting to run up inside my leg, heading towards my crotch. Oh shoot, I figured-here they come. Now I'm done for.

The boys was yelling like they was cheering for a horse race or something-"Come on, ants -go go go." "Up this way, for cry-eye-what are you turning around for?" "Look look! There's one going up her ass!"

Being all tied down like I was, I couldn't see nothing of what was happening, but I could feel it all right, the way them little buggers was heading up underneath my belly and ass, running into all the little cracks and crevices, and it sure did tickle just like I'd figured it would, but not so's to make you laugh or nothing. It was just the lightest little feeling-like feathers barely brushing on you.

And as far as the biting went-I hadn't felt none of that so far, thank goodness, and I was beginning to think maybe it wouldn't happen after all. Maybe these wasn't the biting kind of bugs-or maybe, they was satisfied just to eat up the molasses that was there and didn't need to take no bites out of me.

The boys was having a great time for themselves so far, just watching the ants swarming all over my pussy and practically covering it completely, and they wasn't caring for the moment at least if I was getting bit or not. They was just waiting to see if the ants would follow the molasses all the way up inside me. That's what they was hoping for-that about a couple of thousand of them would run way way up in my pussy just as if it was an ant hole. So far it didn't seem like none of them had done it though. At least I couldn't feel nothing inside of me yet except just the stuffed feeling of the blobs of molasses that was crammed up in there. The thing is, as far as I could guess, there was probably so much damn molasses in my cunt that there wasn't no room left for the ants to get inside.

"It ain't open enough," Petey said. "Her cunt is all closed up. We should of stretched her legs out wider apart."

Frank got down between my knees then and put his hands on my legs, way up high on the inside of the thighs, and he pushed the skin out, making my pussy split open more than it was. 'Wow they're going in," he yelled. "Look at them bastards!"

I guess he was right, cause all of a sudden I began to get this definite feeling of tickle tickle tickle spreading up on the inside of my snatch, and was that ever weird! I never had nothing like that before. Most stuff that gets shoved up inside your pussy has got a hard, stiff kind of feeling to it-like pricks and broom handles and necks of bottles and all them kinds of things that the boys was always running up me. As far as pricks is concerned, it ain't until they work up and down inside there for awhile and start to get you hot that there's any tickle feelings connected to it, but with these ants, the tickling started right off from the very beginning, and it was a brand new feeling to me, having the tickles happening without no poking and ramming going on along with it. I was ascared for a little while at the very first that they might start in biting on them tender parts inside my cunt, but there wasn't none of that. I guess they was lapping up the molasses, was all they was doing in there, and for me it was the absolutest pleasant feeling I ever can remember having in my pussy in my whole life.

So this turned out to be another one of them times that so often happened-where them boys would try to do some real horrible torture thing to me and it would turn out to be more of a nice sexy feeling for me than any kind of hurting. But of course, like all the other times, I sure didn't let on to them that I was getting enjoyments out of it. I just kept my head laid back and my eyes closed up tight so that if they looked at me they'd think I was all in sweating agonies and everything and only trying to bear the pain. That was always the best way to do if I wanted them to be sure and let the torture go on for a long time, 'cause then they'd think I was fighting to control myself and that any minute now I was gonna bust out and start screeching bloody murder and begging them to please not do it to me no more.

Ever now and then I'd sort of twitch my ass a little bit, making it look like I got bit just then and it had made me jump. The way I could hear them laughing it up and clapping their hands, I could tell that I was fooling them pretty good too.

"Wow!" Petey said. "There must be a million of them little red bastards in her cunt now. Ain't that wild!"

"I bet they're all the way up into her belly by now," Frank said. "You watch-they'll be coming out her mouth pretty soon."

I din't know if they was running all the way to my belly or not and I didn't much give a shit at that point. I'd just about quit thinking of ants altogether by then-I was just sort of floating off into dreamland, letting all the nice sweet feelings spread around through me, and before I knew it I was getting to breathe real hard and sort of gasping and choking every now and then in my throat, and that was all the better, 'cause them dumb boys figured it was the terrible pains of getting bit up inside that was making me do it. If they'd only knew the groovy feelings that was tingling all through me by that time, they most likely would have been bullshit mad.

It makes me laugh even now when I look back and think about that day. I would have to say that them little teeny ants probably gave me the biggest orgasm I ever had in all them years when I was an orphan. They kept on racing in and out of me-the whole crowd of them -for the longest time, until all the molasses was cleaned completely out of me, and then they all came swarming right out again and finally went away. And I just laid there and enjoyed every tickly minute of it until they was all completely gone. I was wishing the boys would want to do it all over again and smear more molasses up in me, cause I was the same in them days as I am now-that once I get switched on and creaming inside from something that's being done to me, whether it's from a guy with a big dick or a pack of ants or whatever-I just can't ever get enough of it. I ain't built the same way as guys-they pop their nuts off one or two times and then they lose all their interest in it and want to quit, but once them old orgasms get riling up inside me, I just want it to run on and on forever.

Petey and Frank lost interest in the whole thing real soon though, and they didn't care nothing about doing it all over again. They watched the ants running in and out me for awhile, laughing and whooping and all that like they always would do when they thought I was getting something real horrible done to me, but then I guess it all got to be too tame and boring for them 'cause I wasn't yelling or crying or nothing and there wasn't no blood showing anyplace, so they went into a sand-rassled thing among themselves and didn't even bother about me no more all the rest of the time while the ants was finishing up the job of eating out my pussy.

When it started to get late they untied me and chased me back home again, figuring they'd gave me a real rough time of it that day, but like I say, if they only knew what a sweet thing that ant torture had been for me, they sure would have been some surprised and madder'n a bastard.

Chapter Four The Doggy Gang-Bangers

I was steered onto the bizarre case of Milly B. by a showgirl friend, who had known Milly through various early stages of her career as a chorus dancer, topless showgirl and good-time party-girl on the Los Angeles-Las Vegas fronts.

"I don't know whether you'll swallow this insane story of hers," the friend Bea told me, "but if you're looking for way-out data on the subject of bestialism-"

"Bestiality."

"Yeh, well-whatever they call it. Screwing with animals, right? She's got a story about getting gang-banged by a goddamn pack of hounds that would curl your goddamn hair. If you wanta talk to her, I'll send her around. She's sort of weird-I'll warn you ahead of time -but if you wanta hear the dog story to end all dog stories, she's got it to tell, and she don't give a shit who she tells it to. If it hadda happened to me, I'd just as soon keep it quiet, frankly, but I swear she's kind of proud about it."

I got the same impression when I met Milly and heard her tell her incredible tale. Apparently the experience was a terrifying one at the time it occurred, assuming it actually did happen more or less as she describes it, but by now, sex years later, she has come to be rather proud of having been involved in such an absolutely unique sex experience. In her world of far-out people, the conversational heroes and heroines are the ones who can boast about the wildest, freakiest sex-lives, and it's a good bet that nobody would ever come up with a topper for her fantastic yarn.

Case 4 Milly B.

She came to my office one chilly day in May, but the way she was dressed, or I should say undressed, you might have thought we were in the middle of a July heat wave. Her minidress just barely made it down past her crotch on the front side and missed by about two inches of covering the bottom curve of her ass-cheeks on the reverse angle. As for the upper story, she had on the see-throughest see-through blouse I've ever seen in my life-covered with a flowery design pattern, but the material was just a shade more opaque than cellophane-and the huge, wallowing booby-bags rolling around underneath with every breath and giggle would have had every baby for a hundred miles around crying for its dinner.

The interview went as follows:

Milly-Bea said you wanted to interview me -right?

Price-Yes, I understand you have had a rather unusual experience with animal relations and don't mind talking about it.

Milly-(giggling and quivering all over like Krakatoa, east of Java.) Ooh, I love being interviewed about sex and everything. Are you a doctor or a psychiatrist or something?

Price-(I figured I might as well play the game her way. I had been advised by friend Bea that the quickest way to win Milly's confidence was to come on with the vulgar, frank approach. Just lay it on the line with her for best results, is what I'd been told.)

No, I'm not a doctor-I'm just a horny guy who digs hearing chicks talk about their sex experiences.

Milly-(laughing uproariously.) I'll call you doc anyhow. It makes it seem sexier, telling all this shit to a fucking doctor.

Price-Okay, suit yourself. So you may proceed when ready.

Milly-You want to hear all about them dogs, right? That's what Bea said. You want just that, or should I tell you all my whole life of sex experiences? I mean, you want me to start back when I was a little kid and how I lost my cherry and everything?

Price-No no-some other time perhaps. I'm not dealing with the subject of child sexuality this time. Unless you had some kind of sexual relations with an animal pet at an early age. That might be of interest.

Milly-Well, I used to take this little kitty cat of mine into bed with me when I was small and rub her all over me while I was bare-ass, you know? You mean shit like that?

Price-Er-why don't you just go right on with the story about the dogs. I think we can settle for that. Any time you're ready, just let it fly. I'll be recording it all on tape, if you don't mind.

Milly-Okay. I better start with how I met this guy that owned these fucking dogs. That's part of the story-how I got into the whacky scene in the first place. You gotta realize I was just a dumb young chick at that time. I didn't know from nothing, man. I used to let myself get into every kind of stupid mess with these creepy guys. They'd promise me all kinds of shit they was gonna do for me, you know? And what did I know? I was working in this crummy beaver show at some little night club where you had to sit and have drinks with the jerks and let yourself get all felt up and everything while you coaxed them to buy champagne. So I was always looking for some way of getting into a better deal, cause a lot of guys had told me that I had what it takes and should be really making it in some big time show, or even the movies maybe, if I could just meet the right person and get a break, you know what I mean?

So one night the boss came in the dressing room and told all the girls that there was this fabulously rich guy that was looking for showgirls to come to a party he was having at his estate. "Very influential man" is what he said he was, and there was a hundred bucks in it for each of us chicks if we was interested.

"Who the fuck do we have to screw?" GiGi asks him, and he says, "Any screwing you do is extra. All you gotta do to earn the hundred is walk around among the crowd of ladies and gentlemen in the complete bare-ass nude and serve drinks and smile pretty at all the high-class people and don't make no federal case out of it if some old bastard pinches you on the fanny as you pass by."

So we all thought that sounded pretty groovy. What the fuck, man. All it would amount to was serving drinks to a crowd of rich drunks that could maybe be worth getting acquainted with. It beat hustling drinks in that shitty club, where you'd slave six nights a week for them shitty wages, trying to scrounge tips out of the cheap bastards that we got for customers. Here was a chance for me maybe to love up a notch in the world. I'd been wishing I could meet somebody rich, and this could be the chance.

As far as cruising around through a crowd of partying people in my birthday suit went, that part of the job didn't bother me none. I'd been bare-ass at parties before, and usually I wasn't getting paid no hundred greenies for the performance either.

Well, came the big night, and me and my two girl friends drove out to this place in the rich hilly section of town, and the second I laid my eyes on that motherfucking mansion, man, I knew I'd hit the jackpot this time. Shit, baby- you ain't ever seen such goddamn luxury. It looked like some fucking Duke of something or other's estate that you see in them British movies. There's about five miles of grounds all around, with trees and a huge pool and every fucking thing.

So, this cat-I guess must've been the butler or some goddamn thing-shows us into a bedroom and tells us we should strip down and start circulating right away-the guests was already gathering and most of them was gonna want plenty of booze served up to 'em, so we should get hustling.

I was pretty excited, cause I'd never seen a whole roomful of rich persons before. I was pretty surprised too. I figured they'd all be wearing elegant clothes and gowns and jewels and everything, but they was all in this real weird mod shit, you know? Some of the chicks especially, wearing mini-minis and see-throughs and peek-a-boo crap-my God, they was nearly as naked as I was.

But there wasn't none of 'em that was built like me, you know what I mean, so I wasn't too worried about the competition. Dumb as I was, I knew fucking well that rich men are just as horny as anybody else, and if there was anything I knew about it, it was how to turn on a horny man.

So I started cruising around the rooms with a trayful of cocktails and taking orders for whatever anybody wanted, and it wasn't too long before I was getting quite a lot of attention from all them old farts, especially the ones that wasn't with their wife or any special chick of their own.

The first real score I made was this guy who must've been sixty if he was a day. He's got this big bushy mustache, and I give it a little brush-over with my fingers and I say to him, "Ooh, I bet that tickles when you go down on somebody."

He laughs like a bastard and says, "There's one good way for you to find out for yourself."

Well shit, the next thing I know he's steering me off into the fucking garden and there we are spreading it on top of a fucking fancy marble bench with all this carving on it. Jesus Christ, that was cold, but he was a real gentleman-he wadded up his coat and slid it under my ass and then away we went. The old bastard surprised the shit out of me too. You should've seen the hard-on he comes up with, and he's on me and in me quicker than any young cat that I'd screwed around with up to then. All the time he's wang-ing his weenie up my snatch, he's got his face mashed all over my boobs, which is the main thing he was interested in, like most guys, and he's slobbering away on 'em and dragging his tickly whiskers all around. I got the fucking giggles going and couldn't quit. It was the first time I ever had somebody with a goddamn mustache give me a titty-tickle like that, and it just freaked me out.

I was scared he'd get pissed off at me for laughing so much, but he was having a ball himself and didn't give a shit. He popped his nuts in a little while, and then he gives me a big juicy cigar-tasting kiss, and he goddamn near smothered me with his mustache stuffed up under my nose. All of a sudden I let out this huge sneeze that fucking near blew his head off, and then we both wound up laughing like a son of a bitch.

So everything with him ended up real groovy -my first bang with a millionaire was a big success after all-and that sweet old bastard slipped me a hundred dollar bill afterwards, to top it all off.

"What the fuck am I gonna do with this?" I says to him. "I got no goddamn pockets in this birthday suit."

He laughs and says, "I could suggest a place to put it." And just in case I don't understand the reference, he slips a sneaky finger up me from behind and gives my pussy a littly diddle with his knuckle.

Price-Er-excuse me. These party games are all very interesting and would make fascinating stories in some other context, but I must remind you again that it's your animal experiences I'm concerned with. You-er-

Milly-I told you-I'm coming to that part.

Price-Was this gentleman who serviced you on the garden bench the one who later sicked his pack of dogs on you?

Milly-Oh, no! What made you think that? It was later that I met him. But the old guy, I started to tell you when you interrupted, was the one that introduced me to the one that had the dogs. He brings this strange-looking cat over to me and my girl friend Glad and says, "Here are the two young ladies I was telling you about," giving us each a little ass-pat.

"What'd he tell you about us?" I asked this new guy, 'cause I'm curious, you know, to find out what men say about me behind my back.

The guy smiles at me and says, "He's been telling me that you girls are extremely pas- sionate and singularly uninhibited creatures," and he gives me this real weird look with these wild greenish eyes of his. Reminded me of them guys you see in Dracula movies, that hypnotize chicks and made them do all kinds of spooky things. It makes you all shivery, getting looked at like that, 'cause you think maybe you're getting hypnotized just while he's standing there talking to you, and maybe he's gonna make you do all kinds of wild things afterwards that you won't even know about. But I love spooky men like that. I get all melty and just can't take my eyes off them.

Price-Er-is this the man who had the dogs -this Dracula fellow?

Milly-Right! But that comes later. Bandeau was his name, and he was the guy that actually owned this huge estate-the place where we was. And he says he'd like to have me and Glad stay there for the whole weekend as his guests and entertain some people that would be there. He said we'd be "handsomely rewarded" or something like that, meaning we'd get real good loot for it. I dug this guy though, just to look at him, and I would've stayed for nothing.

Price-You were going to entertain? Did Bandeau say what kind of entertaining he had in mind for you?

Milly-I figured he meant he wanted us to ball some of his friends maybe, you know? That's usually what they mean when they say entertain. I didn't figure he wanted us to do no song and dance act. (laughs uproariously.)

Price-You wouldn't consider that prostitution and object to it?

Milly-Egh-prostitution is all in the mind. I go through life the same as most chicks do- getting bread from guys and balling with guys, and I don't ever stop to connect up the two in my mind. It's just all part of life, is all.

Price-Okay, so you spent a weekend at Count Dracula's estate in the country to ball some of his friends entertainingly and pick up a little unrelated bread. Now where do the dogs come in?

Milly-Not till the second day. There wasn't no dogs the first day-just all these people.

Price-Remember, it's the dogs I want to hear about.

Milly-Okay okay, but I have to tell you the other first, 'cause if it wasn't for them things then there wouldn't have been nothing about the dogs, maybe.

Price-AW right-go on then. Take your time.

Milly-Bandeau told us about the dogs the first day though, even though we didn't see them. Sort of a warning. The thing is, he said there was lots of murderers and jewel robbers and revolutionaries and hippies and all that kind of riff-raff that was always breaking in people's places around there, and so he said he kept these special-trained dogs on his estate that was let loose around the house night-times, and they would attack anybody that they see, and if it was a man they'd tear him to little bits and if it was a chick, they was trained to do horrible sex-things on them and then afterwards they would eat them all up, right down to the bones.

(I am only setting it down word for word, as she told it to me.)

Me and Glad thought it was just a joke, 'cause who would ever believe such a story? But he sounded like he was dead serious about it, and he told us if we went outside the house for any reason after nightfall, he would not be responsible for any disasters that might happen. And he gave us that real spooky look with his eyes again when he said it, just like it was a scene in some horror picture and we was actually taking part in it. It was real shivery.

Price-Did you believe this story of his about the dogs?

Milly-Sure I did. Cause that first night when we was in the house I could hear them barking and howling and everything outside. Awful scary!

Price-If you knew they were there, then, and you were afraid of them, how did you happen to get caught by them?

Milly-Well, you see-here's how it happened. The first day there, all we done was lay around and swim in the pool and get to know everybody-there was all these big stock market guys and movie company people and scientists and all kinds of groovy men like that. Both of us got in quite a lot of balling, 'cause most of them was pretty horny and they knew what Glad and I was there on the premises for all right. But you don't want to hear all the details about the balling-you want to know just about the dogs-right?

Price-The dogs-right.

Milly-Well, everything was going along real groovy until on the second night everybody was gathered together in the library, and we was there with them just shooting the shit and farting around. Everybody was dropping remarks though about how they couldn't wait for the performance, and giving us the big winks, and I didn't know exactly what they was talk- ing about. But then Bandeau calls me and Gladdy out of the room after awhile and he says to us, "I've promised all the gentlemen a little extra treat tonight. I'm sure you girls won't let me down."

I laughed and said, "Whata you want us to do-a striptease dance on the piano?"

He says, "No-a dance was not what I had in mind. Tell me-have you two young ladies ever indulged in lesbian relations together?"

We both Laughed at that, not knowing what he was getting at. I said, "Oh, sure-we eat each other for dinner every night." Just making a joke, 'cause I thought that's what he was doing.

"I'm dead serious," he says. "I want you two to perform a nude lesbian exhibition for my guests tonight in the library. They're all looking forward to it. No faking, either. I expect to see the real article-all the way to orgasm. I'll furnish you with Japanese feathered dildos and Swedish vibrators, and I've promised them that you'll put on a good juicy show for everyone's enjoyment. Any questions?"

This motherfucker was dead serious! I couldn't believe my ears. I told him, "Fuck that shit, Jack. I don't go down on no chick for nobody. That ain't my bag of beans. I'll ball a guy in front of the whole world, if it's a sex show you want-I've done that before more than once. Or the two of us will take on a guy together-no sweat there. But no cunt-lapping though for this baby. I'm allergic to pussy, man."

He gives me a big smile and says, "Don't worry, my dear-there's a generous helping of extra loot in it for both of you."

I said, "Screw the loot. Absolutely no chance."

He started to get mad then and making threats and everything. And finally he turns on his Dracula look and says either we had to do the lez bit like he wanted, or else neither one of us would ever leave the joint alive. Then he shut us up in our room and locked the door from the outside, and he said he'd give us just fifteen minutes to make up our mind, or else we'd be goddamn sorry.

Glad was scared shitless, and she said to me, "Why don't we just do it? Didn't you ever make it with a chick before? It ain't so bad, actually, when you get down to it."

I should've been scared too, I guess, but I was too fucking mad. I said, "It ain't anything personal against you, Glad, but I ain't sucking no cunts today or any other day, and that's final. You gotta draw the line someplace, for God's sakes. Don't worry-we don't have to do it. There's no way he can make us."

"He will make us, though," Glad says. "I know he will. I'm scared of him."

I told her, "He ain't gonna hurt you-forget it. He wouldn't dare with all these other guys around. If you're smart, you'll come with me right now. I'm splitting the fuck out of here before that weirdo comes back."

"How can you?" Glad says. "He locked the door on us."

"The window's wide open," I said. "It's only ten feet to the fucking ground, and there's a post right here to shinny down on."

"What about them dogs of his though?" she said. "They'll eat you!"

I laughed. "I'd rather get ate by a dog than by a fucking lesbian. Don't worry-I can run pretty good, and it's only a little short ways to the fence on this side of the house."

Price-At last we're coming to the part about the dogs-right?

Milly-Right! Wait'll you hear-it's unbelievable !

Price-I believe it.

Milly-You do?

Price-I mean, I believe that it's unbelievable-yes. Go on.

Milly-Well, I wanted Glad to come with me, but she was more scared of the dogs than she was of that son of a bitch Bandeau. So I climbed out that fucking window, slid down to the ground, and then I took off across the grass like a big-ass bird. Everything was fine until I got practically to the fence. I didn't hear no barking or nothing and I figured I had it made. All that wild dog talk of his had to be just so much bullshit after all.

But all of a sudden here comes this whole goddamn pack of the biggest fucking hounds you ever seen in your life-Gawd!-galloping up behind me. I guess they must've been trained not to do no barking or nothing when they was actually on somebody's trail, 'cause I sure as shit never heard a thing until they came busting up right on my fucking heels and just swarmed all over me at once. It was absolutely the weirdest thing that ever happened to me in my life.

I just about shit my pants when they eame down on me and I seen I didn't have the chance of a snowball in hell of getting away. I figured, this is it, baby-say prayers. You're as good as dead. I naturally thought I was gonna be ripped to goddamn little pieces and chewed up and swallowed. What the hell else would anybody think if they seen a half-a-dozen goddman hounds as big as fucking lions coming at you with their jaws wide open and these big mother fucking teeth flashing in the moonlight? Jee-zus, man!

I still don't hardly believe what happened from there on, though. At first I just laid still on the ground where I'd fell, my hands over my face, my eyes closed up tight-just waiting for the end to come, I guess. But then I started to get surprised, cause they didn't pounce on me or start right in biting or nothing. All they was doing was standing around me, and I could hear all this sort of low growling and snuffling going on. After awhile I opened one eye to sneak a look and sure enough-they was all just sniffing around me, poking their noses everywhere.

Then the real weird stuff started. They began biting just on my clothes. Didn't touch my skin at all-just took hold of my blouse at the shoulder, and my skirt at the waist, and tugged at them until they ripped. In no time at all they had my blouse completely down off my shoulders and. my skirt half off my hips. Man, that's some strange feeling, I'm telling you-having your clothes ripped off you by dogs' teeth. I've had the clothes torn off me more than one time by some horny guy, but how do you explain a scene like this to yourself when there's no one around to ask questions to?

I never moved a muscle-I was too fucking scared, with all them teeth surrounding me on six sides. And not having a fucking idea in the world what the hell they was up to, I was scared that one little wrong move on my part and that could be the signal they as waiting for to start making stew meat out of me.

I didn't happen to be wearing no bra, but if I had of been, they no doubt would've peeled that off me too. Anyhow, they had my blouse in ribbons in no time flat, and once they got the top of the skirt loosened, a couple of them grabbed that by the hem and dragged it all the way off over my ankles.

So then there I am, laying out in the moonlight in nothing but a pair of bikini panties, and a couple of seconds later I ain't even got those. One bite and a yank sideways makes short work of them. I was glad I'd been wearing the thin, breakaway type that's special designed for ripping off purposes. I remember thinking at the time-"Jesus, what if I'd of been wearing a fucking panty girdle!" Them dogs would still be there, trying to tug that off.

Now that I was down to complete bare-ass, though, they all came crowding in and sniffing me up again, and they all took a real long drag around my pussy area, I noticed, which should have been a clue for me of what was coming. But if the idea ever occurred to me I wouldn't have believed it anyhow.

At least by this time I wasn't quite so scared shitless as I had been at first. Even though they'd dragged every stitch of goddamn clothes off me, they hadn't done no biting up to this point, and they still didn't look like that was what they had in mind. I was beginning to wonder if they was just gonna hold me here, laying on the ground like I was, until Bandeau or somebody came out to get me. Maybe the dogs was trained to hold people prisoner only, and not to do nothing to them except strip them bare-ass.

Well, they sure was trained to do lots more than that, I soon started to find out. All of a sudden they went into action again, like somebody had gave them a signal or something. No more sniffing around. A couple of them took bites of my ankles and I closed my eyes and held my breath, figuring they was gonna chomp my feet right off me altogether. But all they done actually was pull my legs apart in opposite directions and hold them way wide open. Then this one dog that seemed to be bigger than all the rest comes up in between my legs and sort of crouches down on his haunches. His tongue is hanging out to here, all drippy and flapping, and goddamned if he didn't put his big old floppy-ear head down in between my legs and start tongue-licking right square on my pussy-slit, just like some guy would do it to you, except with about three times the tongue area working on the subject. You have to wonder, who the fuck was the clown that went to all the trouble of teaching this big bastard to lap female pussies, you know? Can you imagine it?

Anyways, I'm laying there with my eyes popping by now, while this big brown monster is giving me the goddamndest cunt-lap I ever got in this world. Starting out scared, gradually I began to feel more and more relaxed, strangely enough, as what he was doing to me started to get through.

I've fallen into lots of nutty situations in my time, and there ain't much that surprises me- I'm used to just taking things as they come and not losing no sleep over it no matter what hits me from the blind side. So even a weird setup like this ain't gonna floor me for too long, once my mind gets adjusted to it. So there's this huge dog licking on my happy hole-so what? When you can't fight a situation, relax and enjoy it- ain't that the old saying?

Price-Is that all that happened? Just the one big dog-er-licking you? I thought there was supposed to be an actuals-er-gang- er-

Milly-Just wait a second! Shit-this was only the bare beginning of things. He only licked me for a little while-getting me juiced up for what was coming, I guess. And he knew what he was doing too, I'll tell you, in that cunt-lapping area. I was starting to feel actually horny-imagine that? I was sort of sorry when he quit on it after just a few more licks and twiddles. But now came the real surprises of the evening, thick and fast.

This huge hound that's been sucking my cunt comes forward now, moving up over me with his big ugly head poking right down in front of mine. For a second I started getting scared again, thinking he was gonna bite my fucking head off or something, but all he done was lick my face a couple of times in regular dog-style, and then his tongue starts dragging around over my fucking lips-YICK-in the craziest way- just a light touch, and all ticklish feeling to me. Exactly like some guy nuzzling around your mouth with his tongue, you know? I should've been going BRAGGHR and throwing up, but actually I was digging it! I'm crazy for kissing anyhow-that's always the best part of sex for me, having the guy tongue-diddle my mouth in real good style. That turns me on quicker than anything. And all I had to do was close my eyes and forget that this was a fucking dog working on me, and it was exactly like I was in some big kiss thing with a guy. Crazy.

But that wasn't even the beginning! While he's giving my mouth the business, I'm not even thinking about my pussy anymore for the moment, and then all of a sudden I start feeling something thumping and bumping up under my crotch-exactly like when some guy is crawling over you and his hard-on is dragging and poking around you there, getting lined-up to shove inside your pussy.

My first thought was--it must be one of them other dogs poking his nose in for a sniff-around, but then I realized that was impossible. This big bastard giving me a doggy kiss-job was using up all the available space on me at the moment-there wasn't no room for no other dog to be down there in my crotch region.

Then I sort of put two and two together and I realized that it couldn't be nothing else but the big dog's prick, for God's sake! That big rascal had worked himself up to a hard-on over me, and that's what I was feeling down there. Isn't that wild? I couldn't believe that I had actually made a dog get a hard-on from getting horny over me. Wow! That was kind of an exciting thought. And I sort of giggled, thinking- "What if his crazy dog-pecker should accidentally slip up inside my pussy and actually make a penetration, man-YIKES! It could happen, almost-the way them other dogs has got my legs all sprawled apart. My pussy must be wide open and right in the path of his prick!"

All this I'm thinking about at that moment as just a sort of a joke thing, you know. Like a fantasy of what could happen, if this and if that. But I didn't know the half of it, man. It wasn't no accident at all, what was going on here- none of it. I should have smartened up by that time that these fucking beasts knew exactly what the fuck they was doing every step of the way.

And so, sure enough, the next thing I know I start to feel the meat poking up in my pussy- the old familiar sensation of a stiff cock slipping up the fuck-hole. Nothing new for me-I oughta know the feel of a prick going up my slot by this time-and that was exactly what was happening to me then.

"My God Almighty," I'm saying to myself. "This takes the all-time first prize--no shit. I'm actually getting myself raped by a fucking dog! All by himself without no help from me or nobody, he's actually stuffed his own prick up my pussy and now he's starting to jive it up and down, fucking me just as sure as I'm laying here!"

I want to tell you too, the sensation of that prick was really something to surprise the hell out of me. I mean, a dog's prick-even on a pretty good-sized animal-don't look all that huge to the eye, right? It ain't no horse-cock or donkey-dick, that's for sure. But when you get one of them things swelled up inside your belly-hole, it stuffs you pretty good, by God. It wasn't till later that somebody told me about how dogs have this knob on their peckers that don't show up at all until the thing gets to a full hard-on state, and then they blow up like crazy to this big fat bulgy ding-dong thing that will fill any pussy in the world to satisfaction.

So when that old hound began humping and jabbing that thing up my slot, he had my ass rocking like a hula dancer in no time flat. Holy jumping Jupiter, what a mad fuck!

Price--Er-I'm just trying to get the picture clearly in my mind. All this time were those other two dogs still clamped onto your ankles, holding you in position?

Milly-Goddamned if I know. I wasn't paying no attention to them other dogs at all by that time. When you're in the middle of getting balled some fantastic new way, who's looking around to see what's happening otherwise? Come to think of it, I seem to remember that from that point on I was doing quite a lot of flopping and squirming and jerking around on the ground while this big old bugger was socking it to me a mile-a-minute, so I guess maybe them other dogs had turned me loose, once they seen their friend had made his connection and the fuck was actually under way.

Price-And he was still "kissing" you too all during this action?

Milly-Oh, wow, was he ever? I had my "mouth wide open now and he was slobbering all over it, licking my tongue with his and everything. Would you believe it? I mean, it's fantastic to think how that dog had been trained. Somebody should have made a movie picture of him balling a chick like he done me. It would sure as hell make a fortune, if you could ever get it past the censors.

Price-Then it was just the one dog that actually raped you, so to speak? The others didn't participate actively-correct?

Milly-Oh, no, wait-I'm just telling you about the first one so far. He must've been like the leader of the pack, I guess, and he got privileges of first fuckings on me, but the other ones was just standing by waiting for him to get his rocks off and then they'd all get their turns too, I found out.

The others was a kind of a disappointment though. None of them was real good at it like that first one. Or at least if they was, they didn't get a chance to prove it, 'cause as soon as the first dog finished up shooting his wad and backed off me, there wasn't no more standing around and waiting for turns. The rest of them just all went at me at once, and things got pretty much out of hand. I mean, it got to where it wasn't too much fun for me anymore, the way them, others carried on, and it wasn't long before I got back to being scared again like in the beginning and wondering whether I was gonna come out of it all in one piece or not.

Price-Can you describe what the others did? Were there any more sexual assaults after the first dog finished, or did they bite on you, or what exactly did the later action consist of?

Milly-Well, it's pretty hard to give you all the exact details that happened to me. It was only the moonlight there, you know, and it was all pretty hectic and confusing with that whole pack going at me at once, and you gotta remember that I was in a pretty freaked-out state by then besides.

But still, I've been over it so many times in my mind since then, not to mention having dreams about it, that I guess I can fill you in fairly well on most of it.

The first thing right away was all this nudging me around with their noses-sort of playing with me, like I was a big piece of meat and bone they just found and was going to have a little fun with before they sank their teeth into it and had themselves a feast. That was the part where I began getting scared again and thought my number was up for sure.

There was all this wild, crazy shoving and tugging on me, and there was quite a lot of biting on my arms and legs at this point too, but they wasn't the hurting kind of bites--just sort of grabbing and dragging at me to move me around-rolling and shoving my carcass all over the damn ground. And they was all into a big barking thing now too, raising a hell of a racket. I figured there'd have to be somebody coming arunning from the house any second to see what the hell was happening out there, but nobody ever did show up the whole time they was at me.

There was a whole mess of licking on me going on now too-all over everyplace-my boobs, face, belly-you name it. They was giving me a royal tongue-bath treatment, head-to-toe, and did that ever tickle! Then finally I guess they'd got their fill of dragging me around the grass and licking the goodies and they all wanted to get in on a little of the out-and-out sex action like dog number one had done.

Up to then it'd been like every man for himself, you know? I should say every dog for himself. Just a big wild hassle while they was all shoving me around every which way, but now everything seemed to get organized all of a sudden like magic-the goddamridest thing. The big dog-the one that fucked me-had been sort of standing back letting the others have their fun ever since he got his, but now I guess he wanted to get the show on the road, 'cause he comes out with this ruff-ruff-gr-r-ruff all of a sudden, like he was giving them the word-shape up and get with it, you guys. We ain't got all night.

Anyhow, as soon as he done it, the other five dogs quit their wild screwing around-bang- just like that-and then the real unbelievable part began.

Price-I was wondering when we were coming to the real unbelievable part.

Milly-Well, you just wait-this is it all right. The first new thing that happened then was this one fat, hairy dog got down on the ground all flattened out, at the end of the horsing around business, and the other dogs nudged and dragged me up on top of him, so my back was laying over him just like he was some kind of a big woolly pillow or something, and my ass and my crotch and everything was sticking out in the midnight air.

Then this other dog-one of them ones that had been biting on my ankle before--he reared up between my legs and laid his paws out flat on my belly, and the next thing I feel is him working his weenie up against my split, poking it around, trying to get it into the hole. He wasn't as slick and smooth at slipping the meat up the slit as the first one was, but after a little spell of bumping and jabbing around the fringes of the hole, he finally managed to thread the old needle and I got that old familiar shafted feeling up in there again as he started to pump pump pump.

He wasn't too smooth in his rhythms, but once he got up to driving speed he sure was a real swifty-more like what you'd expect from a dog if you've ever watched them going at it with each other. He starts wham-bamming like a fucking trip-hammer, and it sure as hell tickled like crazy-gave me the shivers all over, and I got to giggling and couldn't quit for the life of me, all the time he was balling my snatch.

But him fucking me was only part of what was going on then. The dog screwing my cunt wasn't nearly as big as the other one had been, and so there was plenty of room for all these other ones to get at me and do their business in other areas at the same time.

There was one of them on each side of me, I remember-with their paws up over my ribs, humping their bellies against me, working their weenies up to hard-on's so they'd be ready for action when their turns cames. Ain't that wild?

And then this other one comes down over my fucking head and squats his hairy ass there with his goddamn prick and balls and everything right in my face. I'm thinking, oh shit, man- this is too much! What does he want from me-a fucking blowjob already?

I don't know if he was actually smart enough to know about blowjobs or not, or if he was just looking for a place to rub his prick against and figured this was as good a piece of skin as any. But whatever it was, I was pretty freaked-out with the whole shacked-out scene by this time, after all the tickling and diddling I'd been getting, and I just didn't hardly give a shit about nothing no more. You might say I was getting into the spirit of the ball game, I guess-anyhow I thought maybe I'd give this rascal that's humping against my chin the surprise of his life and do a little licking and gobbling on his prick for him as long as it was in the vicinity.

So I popped my mouth wide open all of a sudden and ducked my chin, and swoop-his hairy pecker landed kerflop on my tongue. Right away I closed my lips down on it and held it there while I set my tongue to work, slobbering around the head end of it, tickling the shit out of that old doggy-dick.

Price-Didn't that bother you at all-the idea of sucking a dog's penis that way?

Milly-Well, it does kind of make me wonder now when I think back on it, but like I said -I was pretty freaked-out at the time and wasn't really responsible.

The dog screwing my pussy was giving me holy hell by that time-socking it home like you wouldn't believe, and I was rocking my ass a mile-a-minute right along with him--plus these other two all over my belly and ribs and nuzzling on my boobs-man, I was turned on from head to toe by that time. They had me in a mad mad crazy balling mood.

And like I said before, I love kissing somebody at the same time I'm getting my cunt fucked-like that first dog was doing on me with his tongue in my mouth. Or, just as good as mad passionate kissing is when you got a second weenie stuck in your face to nibble on and suck. I always did dig getting it on both ends, and I've done the honors for two or three guys at once plenty of times in my young life.

So it came perfectly natural for me to look for something to gobble on at that point, the way I was switched-on. I wasn't thinking in terms of dogs doing it to me anymore-sex was the only thing in my mind by that time-raw sex-basic fucking and sucking. I get like that once my fuses are lit. I may appreciate screwing around with a good-looking guy in the early stages of an orgy setup, but later, when the action warms up and swings into high gear, then plain old raw sex takes over control of the situ- ation and I couldn't care less then if it's Frankenstein or King Kong that's slamming it into me.

So I must of given that dog's hairy old weenie quite a workout, and I didn't come back to my senses again until all of a sudden he popped his nuts and I started getting a mouthful of more than I bargained for. That kind of cooled me off, and I spit up in a hurry, and from there on out I kind of cooled it on the blowjobbing.

But the pussy-wanging went right on still- they all of them had their turns at it before they quit. I lost all track of how many times they switched off on me, from one dog to the other and back again. I know there was only six dogs there, total, but a couple of them bastards sure as hell came back for seconds.

Price-How did this all end finally? Did they just go off and leave you after they'd had their dirty little pleasure, or what?

Milly-I heard somebody whistling to them from somewhere and all of a sudden they just ran away. I thought then there'd most likely be somebody come out to get me, but nobody did. I was just left laying there by myself, and everything all quiet, and it was hard to believe anymore that any of it had happened. Except there I laid, still bare-ass naked and with a cunt full of doggy-squirts.

After a while, when it looked like nothing more was gonna happen after all, I hunted around and found my clothes and got dressed again. They was ripped all to shreds, but I didn't give a shit. I just wanted to get the fuck out of there then. I sure as hell didn't have no intentions of going back into the house again.

So I climbed the fucking wall and then hitchhiked a ride back into town. Phew, I was glad as hell to get out of that place all in one piece.

Price-A remarkable story, to say the least.

Milly-That ain't the final end of it though. You know what I found out later? The next time I seen my friend Glad, she told me that right after I ducked out the window, Bandeau came and got her and took her back to the library. Everybody there was crowding around a TV set, and guess what they was watching- ME! That prick Bandeau had remote control TV cameras out there in his back yard, and the whole gang inside the house was watching every fucking thing that happened with me and them dogs on big-screen TV in living color! Man, I shit a purple brick when I heard that!

Price-That must have been something to see.

Milly-What, me getting screwed by all them dogs on TV?

Price-No, you shitting a purple brick when you heard about it.

End
Animal Ordeals ....(76k)    by Joseph Didion




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