THE BREEDERS is a terrifying story of sexual pleasure. When it came to our eyes we were startled. How could any person actually enjoy a relationship with an animal? We tossed the question around and around our minds. And then the author told us that her story was based on fact and merely told in fiction. Our heads swam even more frantically.
We read Nicole Duval's story over and over. It nagged at our reasoning. We were worried that our readers might be offended by the incredible tale. But then we began to think about the basis of truth and how the final judgment would have to lie with the individual reader.
There are secret doors to sex which are pushed ajar daily. Nicole Duval pushes open another door in THE BREEDERS. Her book isn't like any other ever written on the subject of beastiality. It grips the reader with a stinging realism that makes the whole tale almost too believable.
Perhaps this is what bothered us so much that her story was so real that it startled us, and we're generally hard to startle.
-The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
The hand-wrought iron sign which hung over the heavy carved wooden doors of the main gate read: ROYAL BENSON KENNELS. But to those who recognized quality, it said 'expensive."
Carolyn Vance pressed the call button and listened expectantly for the harsh ring of a bell somewhere within the grounds. There was no sound. Perhaps the bell was out of order, or perhaps the buildings were soundproofed. For a large commercial kennel, it was surprisingly silent behind those high walls. No dogs had barked at her approach. There seemed to be no sound at all beyond the high-walled grounds. That was odd, she thought.
Then the faint static of an intercom called her attention to the intricate iron grillwork just above the call button.
"Royal Benson Kennels. May we be of service?"
The voice was definitely male, but veloured by good breeding and years of servitude, like an unobtrusive English butler.
"Yes," Carol answered in the general direction of the soft static sounds. "I'd like to see Mr. Benson please."
"Mr. Benson sees no one after working hours without an appointment. I'm sorry. Would you care to telephone for an appointment tomorrow?" the illusive voice said. "You will find a rack of business cards by the bell, the telephone number is located in the lower right hand comer. Please telephone at your convenience."
Carolyn raised an eyebrow. My, aren't we exclusive, she thought.
"I do have an appointment with Mr. Benson," she said politely, "a 7:00 o'clock appointment and it's just 7:00 now."
"One moment, please," the phantom voice purred.
Carolyn sighed gently. It was such a relief to find a job after such a long time. She was tired. It had been a long walk in high heels from the nearest bus stop, especially carrying a suitcase full of clothes, but she had walked rather than spend her few remaining dollar bills on taxi fare. She leaned against the high wall with its cornice of black iron spearheads. Attractive she thought, sort of 'old worldish' and elegant ... though rather dangerous if one of the dogs, or anyone else, were to try to go over the high wall.
Carolyn looked hopefully at the intercom and wished they would hurry. Her feet hurt and she wanted nothing more at this moment to get the formalities over and be shown to the room which was to be hers while she was employed by Royal Benson Kennels. Shouldn't be impatient, she scolded herself, just be darned grateful you got the job. It sounded like a marvelous opportunity to her when she first read the newspaper advertisement.
WANTED: Attractive kennel girl, must be single and unattached, 20 to 25 yrs. Experience unnecessary, will receive specialized training. Room and board, plus $300 a month. Box 792 N.Y. Times.
Mr. Benson had been very sympathetic when he learned that she had lost her family several years ago and that she was alone and friendless. New York could be a very lonely place without friends, Mr. Benson agreed. No boyfriends? No neighbors to be concerned if she were to suddenly pick up and move? Yes, Mr. Benson had understood how hard it was for a newcomer to break into the cold aloofness of a busy city's social life. He sympathized ... and Carolyn was sure his kindly sympathy was responsible for her getting the job. It must have been that, for he had turned down experienced trainers to accept a shy young girl from out of town with no training, no money, no family and no where to go. She wished he had explained more about her duties and what would be expected of her. She asked about that, twice as a matter-of-fact, but he had been so concerned about her unfortunate lack of friends that she was sure whatever was expected of her, Mr. Benson would be patient and helpful. Just then the intercom crackled to life.
"Mr. Benson will see you now." The voice purred once more. "Press the gate handle as the buzzer sounds."
Carolyn smiled thankfully at the anonymous voice behind its iron grill. She wiggled her tired ankles and waited for the buzz that would open the gates and bring her that much closer to her new job. There was a soft whir and she pressed down on the heavy black latch and the great door swung silently inward. She closed the gate behind her, hearing its lock click softly in place.
It was a pleasant waiting area ... a small inner patio of pebble-faced concrete squares, neat redwood benches and flat wok bowls with exotic plants in them. Across the small patio was a second door with the same heavy black latch as the outside gate. She heard the familiar whir of the electric lock release and hastened to open the door while she could. It, too, clicked shut and locked behind her. Mr. Benson's dogs must be very expensive to justify such caution ... and such lovely decor! She looked about the waiting room with its myriad of Great Dane photos and locked glass displays of trophies, ribbons and cups. "Royal Benson's King Lear," a magnificent animal, the black mask markings cleanly defined against his light fawn coat. "Royal Benson's Dominoe Doll," a lovely harlequin female with perfect conformation. "Royal Benson's Goliath," a huge animal with massive breadth of chest and good jaw. Carolyn was impressed. She knew nothing of Great Danes and their intricate conformation but anyone could recognize the magnificence of such fine animals. She hoped she would be working directly with these lovely show dogs.
A door opened quietly behind her and she turned to meet the smiling face of Jason Benson.
"Welcome, my dear," his deep clipped tones boomed across the small room, "welcome to Royal Benson Kennels."
"Thank you, Mr. Benson," she smiled at the older man. "And thank you for giving me the job."
He smiled at the petite girl who stood anxiously before him, a small purse clutched in one hand, a suitcase in the other. Yes, she would do nicely ... a small narrow body, attractive to look at, long legs, well defined breasts which showed their nipple points erect and proud beneath the blue cotton of her dress. She would do. He smiled.
"You must be tired. Here, let me take that." He reached for her suitcase. "Come, I'll show you to your room and then we'll have a quick cup of tea ... something stronger if you prefer ... and then you may retire. We want you to be fresh and full of energy here at Royal Benson."
Carolyn smiled gratefully and followed Jason Benson through the door and down the wide hallway to her room. He unlocked the door at the end of the hall and nodded for her to enter. It was a large airy room spotted with thick padded chairs and an end table with a variety of magazines neatly laid out in order. Carolyn walked past the table and looked out the window. Here were the dogs she had wondered about ... some twelve or fifteen runs with chain link fencing between, each with a door leading inside the main house and a second door opening into the concrete area in the center. It was like looking down into a tiny gladiator's arena, with its huge muscled canine contenders pacing back and forth in their cells. Realizing her employer was standing at her side watching, she felt she should say something about the many dogs below.
"Is that where the dogs are exercised?" she asked, "In the concrete area below?"
"No, my dogs are ... exercised ... in another area of the building." He smiled at her as if he knew a secret no one else knew. Yet. "But that's for tomorrow. I shall tell you all about Royal Benson Kennels ... tomorrow."
He lifted her suitcase and laid it conveniently on the bed for her. "Have you eaten, my dear?" He asked. "Yes, thank you."
"Fine. That's fine. I shall leave you to your unpacking and perhaps you'd like a refreshing shower." He looked at his wristwatch. "It's a little after 7:00. Suppose I bring you something warm and soothing to drink about 8:00. It will help you sleep soundly. What would you prefer? Tea, cocoa, or a glass of sherry, perhaps?"
"That's very kind of you, Mr. Benson. I'd like that, a cup of cocoa if it isn't too much trouble."
"No trouble at all, my dear." He nodded courteously and left her alone, closing the door behind him.
* * *
"And this was my Nero," he laid one last photograph on top of the pile on the little end table. "Royal Benson's Black Nero," my first dog ... not my best, but I owe him much for it was his devotion to my deceased wife who caused me to begin the small breeding business ten years ago which lead to the Benson Kennels and a rather sizable income."
Carolyn smiled and tried to concentrate on the photo of the big black Dane. It was so warm in her room. It was making her sleepy, terribly sleepy. She yawned and was immediately embarrassed. "Oh, forgive me, Mr. Benson," she apologized, "I love to look at your dogs, really I do, I can't understand why I'm so sleepy all of a sudden."
"Quite understandable, my dear," Jason Benson stood up, a secretive smile touching the comers of his mouth. "You must forgive me for not allowing you to rest on your first night with us. And do sleep in tomorrow morning, it's Sunday, you know, and the Kennels will be closed to all." He gathered up the stack of photographs, wished her good sleep, and quietly closed the door as he left.
Carolyn leaned back in her chair and yawned. She was so sleepy, so tired. She would rest here just a moment or two, then crawl into the big inviting bed. So tired. She closed her eyes. So tired it felt like her body was spinning, spinning. Suddenly her head fell limply back against the chair ... the near empty mug of cocoa slipping from her lax fingers. It made a soft rattle as it rolled under the edge of her chair, leaving a narrow dark streak of chocolate across the blue carpet.
CHAPTER TWO
From a room across the patio, Jason Benson watched Carolyn succumb to the effects of the tasteless drug which he had stirred into the hot cocoa. Now, if she turned out to be a good subject for hypnosis as well, the Royal Benson dogs would have a new mistress. Jason had already waited too long. The dogs were restless. But it was difficult to find a pretty girl with no family or friends, no one to wonder what happened when she dropped out of sight. Of course, there had been a few-coarse, plain women that no one wanted, no one would miss-but Jason preferred to mix business with pleasure. Perhaps the dogs didn't mind a plain mistress but Jason found the training sessions more stimulating when the bitches were attractive. He studied the still figure of the unconscious girl in the lighted window across the patio. Yes, she was very attractive. He smiled in anticipation. This was going to be a pleasant season. He was sure of that.
"I'll get the girl ready," Jason said quietly to his assistant. "You bring your camera equipment ... and hurry. We don't want the effects of the drug to wear off before we have arranged for insurance."
Without waiting for a reply, Jason hurried from the room. Mario stayed by the window a moment longer, staring at the limp figure of the girl. His face was passive. His hands strayed now and again to his crotch to rub the head of the sleeping beast which lay there.
* * *
Mario bumped the door open with his knees. His hands were full of light standards, cameras and two cases of film. Jason jerked around at the sound of the door banging against the wall and frowned.
"F'god sake, try to be a little more quiet, Mario."
"Hell, boss, she's out like a light."
"That may be, my young friend, but let's not take unnecessary chances, eh?" There were times when Jason Benson would like to have taken the plaited dog whip which hung in the exercise room and which could raise bloody welts each time it laid across the skin, to Mario Serge but he needed him. He needed someone to help ... and Mario's perverted sexuality made him perfect for the job. It took patience sometimes, like today, when Mario's anticipation overrode his good sense. He smiled to hide his feelings. "In an hour or so, we will be finished. And then...."
Jason left the sentence hanging, deliciously dangling before Mario's growing desire like a carrot before a hungry ass. Mario's eyes glittered and the bulge in his tight pants grew larger and more noticeable. He began scurrying quietly around the room, setting up the light poles around the center island bed. Jason smiled faintly. The young man had the insatiability of a sailor and the mind of a child. He could be led around by the prick. Jason shook his head tolerantly, then began his own preparations. From the big cedar chest at the foot of the bed he took a rich blue velvet spread and carefully arranged it on the bed. He glanced at the motionless girl, at her flawless pale ivoried skin ... yes, the color would be perfect. He walked to the movie camera on its sturdy tripod and sighted through the viewer. He pursed his lips, looked up over the camera, then through the view finder once more. "Mario...."
"Uhmmm?" He was having trouble with the height adjustment on one of the lights.
"Move the first two lights on the other side of the bed. I can see them in the viewer."
"Okay, but you won't get good lighting on her butt without any floods behind her." Mario growled.
"You're probably right," Jason agreed reluctantly, "but we don't want the bloody light pole showing in the pictures either."
"How about moving that screen behind the bed," Mario suggested, "then I could put the light poles behind it and we'd still get the effect?"
"Good, good." Jason sighted through the camera, nodding his head as Mario made the suggested changes. "There ... there, that's it. That's fine!"
He raised up from the camera and grinned at his assistant. "And now the girl...." he said.
Carolyn had not moved since the drug had taken effect. She lay limply relaxed in the big overstuffed easy chair facing the courtyard window. Jason walked quietly over to her and sat on the ottoman at her feet. He began talking to her softly ... very softly.
"You are very tired. Very, very tired. You are asleep, Carolyn Vance, sound asleep. You haven't been able to sleep for days and now you are sound asleep." His voice droned on, toneless and void of all inflection. "As you're becoming deeper and deeper asleep, your breathing will become deeper too. Deep, deep from the bottom of your lungs. Breathe deep, Carolyn, deep, deep."
The sound of her breath was audible in the room now, her chest expanding and contracting with each breath. Jason could hear the air rushing between her lips as she inhaled. He looked up at Mario and winked. Mario nodded solemnly.
"You must sleep deeply, Carolyn, and then you will feel wonderful. You will feel just wonderful. Deep, Carolyn, a deep, deep sleep." Jason picked up one limp hand and began stroking it lightly with his fingers. "Imagine you are in a cave, a deep, dark quiet cave, Carolyn. There are steps in this cave, nice, wide, safe, steps carved out of stone and they go down. Down, down, down into the cool dark cave. It's quiet down there, Carolyn, peaceful and quiet. If you could only walk down those steps and into the quiet depths of the cave, Carolyn, everything would be wonderful again."
Jason looked at the wide-eyed Mario and jerked his head toward the box on the table. Mario nodded. Jason continued to stroke her hand softly, regularly.
"We are going down those steps together, Carolyn, into the quiet peaceful darkness. You can hear our footsteps as we go deep, deep down into the darkness." He nodded to Mario, who stood waiting with a flat piece of marble in one hand and a small rubber headed mallet in the other. At his nod, Mario began tapping on the marble, holding it lightly by one end so not to dull the resonant sound of the mallet. "Down, down, down into the cool darkness, Carolyn, deep, deep, deep into the cave of your mind. Hear the footsteps as we walk down, Carolyn, deep, deep, deep."
The hand he stroked suddenly became even more limp, it was like a boneless mass of flesh that wanted to melt and slip from his grasp. Jason smiled. He studied the heavy pulse at the base of her throat. It was pulsing with heavy, even throbs. He lifted Carolyn's hand and dropped it on to her lap. There was no reaction. He looked at her from beneath his heavy half-closed lids and smiled. This one was a fine subject, she would perform well for their cameras ... and once her performance was recorded on film, he would give her to his dogs, his fine canine progeny, his boys.
"Shall I get the King, boss?" Mario asked impatiently. "Or ya wanta start with me?"
Jason cocked his head and looked appraisingly at the pretty face of the girl slumped in the chair. He liked to use the King first but sometimes the shock of it brought a subject out from under before they really had enough insurance to prevent trouble. If there was any chance of that, he used Mario first. This time, however ... He held her chin up in his fingers, then let it drop abruptly. This time there would be no trouble. She was an exceptionally fine hypnotic study. All he had to do was insure that he used the proper phrasings. A person under hypnosis would not do anything violently against their principles. If you had unpleasantries to deal with, you never said "shoot your husband" ... you said "you are frightened of snakes, there is a snake who will bite you, kill him" and killing snakes was not against their moral fiber. Bang, you're dead. Jason smiled. He was an experienced hand at hypnosis. Consciously this shy girl would rebel at what he had planned for her, "tactfully worded" she would purr like a pussycat in heat.
"Bring the King," he said softly to Mario. "There'll be plenty left over for you, my boy, there's plenty for both of you."
Jason crossed his legs, leaned his chin on his hand and looked at the girl ... it was a dirty business ... but such a stimulating one. Already he was feeling the first birth pains of a gigantic erection tingling in his loins. He lingered amid the feeling of a painful need for a moment, then put it out of his mind as the sound of heavy footpads entered the door of Carolyn's room. He turned to face the King.
He was a magnificent beast, a full three and a half feet at the shoulders, with the chest of a bull and the proud head of a champion. He pulled at the choke chain in Mario's hand, leading the slim man at will, pulling him over to where his master sat on the ottoman. Jason clouted him playfully across the muscled rump and pulled at his jowls.
"Hello there, King," Jason said with pride in his voice, "How ya doing, boy?"
The dog rubbed against his leg and licked at his hand. Jason wooled him once more, then rose and took the choke chain lead from Mario. "Here, boy," he said with the tone of command and walked him to the side of the bed nearest the camera tripod. "Now, sit. SIT. STAY."
The King squatted obediently on his great fawn haunches and watched expectantly. Jason removed the chain from his thick neck and tossed it to one side. The King watched it slide on the floor. "STAY," he commanded once more. "STAY."
"You want me to operate the camera this time, boss?" Mario asked.
"Hmmm, yes, I think so, Mario." Jason studied first the girl, then the bed. "Yes, you do that. I'll tell you when to start the mechanism and when to cut. Is everything ready?"
"Yeah, all ready ... 'cept for the girl. She's not undressed yet." Mario looked hopefully toward his employer. "You want me to undress her???"
"Not this time," Jason smiled thoughtfully, "she's too good a subject to overlook ... let's play this one by ear, shall we?"
Mario grinned obscenely. This was gonna be one helluva night, he could tell. The boss was rarely this wound up over any of the new bitches. And when he was, sooner or later the girl would wish she'd sewed her pussy shut and pee'd out her ear. He watched Jason cross over to the girl and begin stroking her forehead gently.
"Deep ... deep ... deep. Carolyn, do you hear me, Carolyn?" The girl stirred and mumbled something.
"You can speak, Carolyn, but you will not wake up: Do you hear me, Carolyn?"
Her throat worked once, twice, then a small distant voice answered. "I hear you."
"Good, very good." Jason's voice remained absolutely toneless and unemotional. "Something nice is going to happen to you, Carolyn, something very nice."
Jason watched the girl's face carefully. There was no expression, no change of manner or mean. Her breathing was regular and deep. The pulse point in her throat strong.
"Carolyn, you have finally found the man you love, a thoughtful considerate attractive man who has asked you to marry him. You are deep ... deep ... deeply in love with this man. You are so happy that you cannot help but smile." Jason watched closely. The girl's face broke open with a happy smile, her straight even teeth lying like carved ivory upon the soft full red lips. Yes, she would look convincing on film. "And now, Carolyn, it is your wedding night. Your new husband sits beside the bed. You are very happy. Deep ... deep ... deeply happy. He has asked you to undress for him. He wants to see your beautiful body unclothed for him alone. Will you do this for him, Carolyn?"
The girl in the chair nodded slowly, the happy smile still fresh upon her face as if she couldn't stop smiling if she wanted to because she was so happy. "Then get up, Carolyn. Walk to the bed and start undressing." Jason nodded approvingly to Mario as the girl slowly rose from her chair and walked to the end of the bed. "Now, Mario," Jason said softly in soto voice, "start the film now."
"Your new husband thinks you are very beautiful, Carolyn. Why don't you look at him and smile to let him know you love him too?"
The girl paused and looked toward the side of the bed with a shy smile.
"No, Carolyn, your husband is on the other side of the bed. That's right, a little lower. He's sitting down waiting for you to finish. Smile at him, Carolyn. You love him, smile as if you love him."
Carolyn turned slowly and stared toward the camera, fixing her eyes in the direction of the big Great Dane. Her face was filled with happiness, eyes bright, her mouth parted and damp.
"Now undress, Carolyn, keep your eyes on your new husband and undress." Jason coached tonelessly, careful not to break the spell of the moment.
She began unbuttoning the front of her blue shirtwaist dress, looking toward the Dane with half-closed eyes, a look of anticipation masked her lovely face. The dress dropped to the floor and she let it lay there. She reached slowly behind her back and undid the clasp of her bra, letting her hands slide forward to cup the heavy breasts and hold them up for his approval. "Mario," Jason spoke quietly, "pan in on the King. He's watching her ... he knows what's coming ... and he's getting a real hard on."
The small Bell & Howard camera swiveled smoothly on its tripod and aimed toward the waiting dog. The animal's eyes were on Carolyn's every movement, following the motion of her hands, her body. His tongue hung out and dripped saliva. "Lower, Mario, smoothly now."
The camera swung lower, following the muscular lines of the huge dog's body, then pausing on the long hairy sheath that housed the great canine penis. The camera whirred on, as Mario zoomed a slow close-up, so close Jason knew that the sheath and its partially exposed organ would fill the frame of the picture. King panted in anticipation, each heaving breath causing the pole-hard penis to poke in and out of its covering.
"Hold it there, Mario," Jason spoke in a whisper, "I'm going to try something."
Behind the camera viewer, Mario's eyes were bright. His crotch heavy with anticipation. Staring at a stud dog's prick didn't normally do much for the small Italian man, but now as he focused the camera on it at close range, knowing as he knew that it would be buried in the girl's hot wet pussy in a few minutes, the expectation was almost too much. He tried to put the thought from his mind. It wasn't easy.
"Stay, King," Jason spoke gently to the dog, "Stay. King, do you want to lick the girl, boy? Lick the girl, King? STAY. Stay."
The dog was near frantic with the promised goal. His tongue lapped hungrily over his jowls and his penis jutted out at full staff length and bobbed gently up and down with its own weight.
"Jesus," Mario said softly from behind the camera.
"Now, Mario, bring the camera slowly back to the girl and keep it on her until she's on the bed and ready."
The camera swung on a straight line from the dog's stiff pointed organ to the now nude body of Carolyn Vance and paused dutifully on the mouse-brown curls of her split. The camera angle was perfect, Mario grinned to himself, GOD what a film this one would be. The girl was gonna dirty her pants when she saw this one.
"Carolyn," Jason's voice was toneless, coaching once more. "Carolyn, your new husband can't wait to make love to you. Is this the first time you've made love to a man?"
"No," the faint answer came.
"Too bad," Jason muttered softly to his associate, "it would have been damned effective to film the losing of her cherry with the blood and all on the King's big cock. Oh well."
"Jesus wept, I guess!" Mario agreed, his eye still on the girl squared in the viewer. The camera whirred on. "Say, boss, I'd better change film before we start the main event."
"All right. Do we have enough footage to get her on the bed with the dog sniffing her crotch?"
"Hmmmm, I think so." guessed Mario, "give it a try."
"Carolyn, your handsome new husband is so much in love with you. He has asked you to lay down on the bed and wait for him." Jason watched critically as she sat on the end of the blue velvet-covered bed and looked toward the imaginary bridegroom. "That's fine, Carolyn, now just lie back on the bed and relax. Deep ... deep ... deeply relax. You are so comfortable, so happy, so very happy that you can't help but smile at your husband when he kneels before you. Look down at him and be happy."
The girl on the bed raised her head and looked down the length of her naked body, her eyes fascinated by something her mind said she saw there.
"Carolyn, you are deep ... deep ... deeply in love with your husband and he is starting to make love to you. You are a passionate woman, deep ... deep ... deeply passionate woman and your body is beginning to fill with desire for him. You are so anxious to feel his touch. Your body won't lie still, you can't make it lie still."
Jason could hear Mario's heavy breathing from the side of the bed. He looked at the girl on the blue spread, writhing and contorting her body, spreading her creamy white legs until the red crevice split open like a sexy smile. Jason looked longingly at the crack and wished for a quick moment that he could heave his crowbar into its depths and pry it apart until all the goodies were spread open before his ravenous appetite. But that was for later, later when they had their insurance packet carefully stored away, when they knew the girl could not, would not reveal the debasements to which she was forced. There would be time, much time, to ease his throbbing loins. He looked toward the panting animal.
"Now, King," he said softly, "now, boy, lick her clean. Get her, boy."
CHAPTER THREE
Carolyn sat with frozen horror, her eyes glued to the small movie screen at the end of the long dining room table, her fingers white from clutching the edge of the thick wooden chair on which she sat.
On the white-beaded screen not six feet from her eyes, she watched herself being ravished by a great golden dog whose terrible pointed penis dug holes in her body, plunging in and out, stretching the tender pink slit mercilessly. When the camera periodically zoomed in for a close-up, she could feel her stomach churn up and she felt ill. She could see the soft inner lips of her vagina cling to the dog's thick hard organ as it rose and fell, leaped and lunged. She could see the muscles, her muscles, tighten and release around the animal's awful penis, slowly, deliberately milking it to climax. But worst of all, worst of all, was the awful look of wild animal passion on her own face, a look of anguished need, of sexual need of such magnitude that she was fascinated and horrified at the same instant. She watched her writhing body raise beneath the dog's humping haunches, rising to meet him thrust for thrust until the bulge on his great organ began to swell toward climax. She could see it growing, like a knot on a tire just before a blowout, see it grow as he pushed and pulled it in and out of her body until the swelling was too great for the small vaginal orifice to release. And still he hunched frantically over her musky hole.
She knew she was going to be ill but still she could not force her eyes from the terrible pictures on the screen. As the great dog's urge claimed him, he humped her cunt so hard that his upward pulls lifted her hips off the bed. He humped her again and again, slamming the thick trunk of his organ in double time, faster, faster. Suddenly Carolyn saw herself-no, not her, some terrible unfortunate creature on the screen-some girl writhe convulsively, forcing her body up the hot fleshy bone, skewering her body onto the dog's humping haunches. The spasms which racked her climaxing body squeezed the bulging organ and he, too, began the frantic race for release. Her climax burst within her, exploding, ripping away the body from the mind. She lay spent and limp upon the deep blue velvet, a single thin red line welling from somewhere within where the dog knot had torn the tender fabric of her body. The huge golden dog humped once, twice more, and then stood still but for an occasional tremor, patiently waiting for the swelling to subside and release him from this used bitch's body.
Carolyn suddenly leaned over, laying her head on her arm along the edge of the table and vomited, retching again and again until only dry heaves shook her body.
Jason Benson smiled coldly and waited. When the heaving had almost ceased, he lifted the ornate water pitcher and poured a glass of water. He tapped her arm gently to attract her attention and sat the ice tinkling glass on the table within reach.
"A cool drink of water will make you feel better, my dear," he said in the same charming modulated voice that Carolyn had thought so attractive during the job interview.
She raised her head and stared across the table at the calm dignified face of Jason Benson. How could she have been so wrong? Outwardly Jason appeared the soul of trust, the soft voice, the cultured demeanor was really all a sham. It was all camouflage for a distorted mind. The prematurely greying hair, the tanned country gentleman look, these were but subtle traps to fool the outside world. Here, inside the high walls of this awful place, he became the base creature he really was. He was just ... another of the animals of Royal Benson Kennels! The memory of what she had just seen flooded through her mind like the sloppy backwash of a stagnant swamp. Her throat contracted, her stomach roiled. She reached for the glass of water and drank deeply.
"Feeling better?" he asked, the cold smile fixed upon his face.
Just then the tag end of the rewinding movie reel whirred loose and slap-slapped noisily against the machine.
"Mario!" Jason's voice was edged with contempt for the careless boy. "Watch what you're doing. We wouldn't want to damage that film. It might not be quite so easy to get Carolyn to make another that ... interesting."
"Ohhhh, how could you?" Her voice was -rimmed with hatred. "HOW COULD YOU?"
"How could I?" Jason smiled. "It was really quite simple, my dear girl. You are sexually inclined by nature and that enviable virtue combined with your almost unbelievable naivete ... well, suffice to say, it was a simple task to convince your subconscious mind that it was a devoted lover between your legs."
"How could you do such an awful thing?" Carolyn whispered hoarsely.
"Me?" Jason laughed. "You were the one who did the 'awful' things, Carolyn. You forced my poor assistant into some very degrading situations. I was really quite shocked! Ah, but then, you shall judge for yourself. Mario, would you start the next roll of film please?"
Carolyn's eyes widened and she flashed a quick look toward Mario. He grinned back and shook his dark head in mock disapproval.
"No!" she shouted. "No, I don't want to see it. I don't know how you made me do those terrible things ... it was a trick of some kind, drugs or something ... but I don't want to see it. Please. PLEASE."
"Oh, very well." He nodded toward Mario to stop the projector. The room was suddenly very silent without the hum of the machine. "I must say I'm rather disappointed, though. It was a very ... stimulating ... experience watching that bit of film. You may pack away the reel, Mario. Be sure to lock it up quite safely. Miss Vance may wish to see it again some day."
"You're the one who should be locked up! You're crazy!" She stared at the man across the table, her fingers gripping the chair so tightly that the tips were white and bloodless. "You really are crazy!"
"Crazy? ... Like a fox, my dear Miss Vance." The icy smile never left his lips. "Those films are my insurance that you won't try to have me locked up. Or anything else unpleasant. Should you try? I would have to tell the authorities that you used your position with Royal Benson Kennels to try to blackmail me. I would have to show them the films I bought from you at exorbitant prices in order to buy your silence. It was worth the $5,000 you demanded to protect the reputation of the Kennels."
"They wouldn't believe you. If it was true, you would have turned me over to the police right then and there."
"Not necessarily. Jason Benson is known as a quiet sensitive man, an artist in his own right. They would understand why I wouldn't want to go into court to testify against you. It would mean publicity, the front pages of every paper. No, the police would understand why a man of my reputation preferred to pay blackmail." He leaned back in the chair and looked at her over the brandy glass cupped in his hand. "I feel quite confident that you would prefer to assist me with my work and remain silent rather than spend ten years in prison for blackmail ... should it come to that."
"You couldn't prove blackmail even if you wanted to."
"Oh, but I could." His voice was ripe with confidence. "You see, I withdrew $5,000 in cash from my bank today ... in small bills ... the cashier who has long handled my personal account was quite concerned with my nervousness. Considerate girl, that, she asked me twice if I was sure everything was all right."
Carolyn stared in disbelief. This couldn't be happening to her, not to Carolyn Vance from Tyler Corners whose major sins to date consisted of using her mother's credit card for gas and necking after the Saturday night movie. These things only happened to girls off the street, girls who were looking for trouble and were disappointed if they didn't find it. He couldn't really believe she would stay here and work for him, not after this!
"And if you are still thinking about going to the police, Carolyn," he spoke softly, "discounting the blackmail charges, do you think they would believe you?"
"Of course, they'd believe me," she answered incredulously. "No girl would do a terrible thing like that willingly. You forced me!"
"Did I?" The frozen smile took on a new malignancy. "There were no bonds holding you down, no one holding your legs apart for the dog. Do you really think any person seeing the joy on your pretty face would believe you weren't enjoying it? The way you reached up with your wet little pussy and screwed yourself higher onto his big cock, you think anybody's going to believe you didn't want to fuck that dog?"
"And afterwards, Carolyn, when you and the dog had both spent yourselves so disgustingly, when the swelling went down and he pulled it out and licked you clean ... when you smiled and spread your legs and patted your hairy little cunt and tried to coax him back again ... do you realty think anyone in their right mind would believe you were forced into it?"
Tears welled in her eyes and ran unchecked down her pale cheeks. He was right. She had seen the awful spectacle herself. No one would believe her, never in a thousand years.
"And the second reel of film, the one you didn't want to watch," Jason continued, "I'm sure it would convince the police of your unfortunate perversion if the other one didn't. You did some very, very naughty things to my poor Mario while he was tied up and unable to get away from you. Oh, he struggled and tried to turn his innocent body away, but you forced your unnatural appetites upon him. Your unrestrained molesting may have caused permanent psychological damage to the lad! It was shocking, shocking!"
Carolyn's face was streaked with tears and she slowly moved her head from side to side. She couldn't have, she couldn't have done anything like that.
"I can see that you don't believe me. Perhaps we should run the film after all. Mario?" Jason taunted. "No ... no, please!"
"Never mind, Mario," Jason purred reassuringly across the table, "Don't cry, my dear. If you stay and work for me as we agreed, no one need ever know about the films. No one at all."
Carolyn hung her head and stared into her tear-dampened lap. This awful man, this canine Jekyll and Hyde had forced her into a comer from which there was no escape. How could she stay here in this house of depravity and work for a man whose mind crawled with evil? How was she to know that he wouldn't try to put her through another night like that? Or worse? perhaps he would force his own attentions on her. Perhaps Mario would get to thinking about the things she was forced to do to him and his unstable mind might snap. She would be in constant danger here ... but the alternative was prison for blackmail. She didn't have a choice.
"What ... what do you expect me to do?" she asked with a silent sob in her throat.
"Why, just exactly what we discussed when you accepted the position. I merely want you to help me train these fine young animals. That's all, my dear, just train the dogs."
"Train them? To do what, Mr. Benson? You never did say. Exactly what kind of training do the dogs require?" Her voice was haughty, cutting.
Jason lifted the heavy glass decanter from the center of the table and poured a generous amount in his glass. He lifted the bottle in her direction. Carolyn shook her head. He replaced the stopper in the container, leaned back in the big wooden chair and sipped at the brandy glass cupped in his lean tan hands. He looked at Carolyn from beneath the gently arched brows, half amused, half tolerant.
"I thought you would surely have figured that out by now, Carolyn...."
CHAPTER FOUR
It was inevitable, Carolyn thought, as she followed Jason Benson through the endless passages of the big house. She knew the time would come when she would be forced to take part in the monstrous perversion but it had seemed so ... so unbelievable that her mind had not really accepted the situation in which she found herself. Not until now! As they walked down the long hall toward the kennels and the "indoctrination tour" as Jason put it, Carolyn's mind finally had to face facts.
The door which opened off the Royal Benson Kennel's office was locked. Jason pressed a button beneath the counter top and the door slid open with a soft whir. He gestured for Carolyn to enter, followed her through and pressed another button. The door whirred shut with smooth efficiency.
Before them lay a wide carpeted aisleway flanked on both sides by identical cages of chain link wire, joined one to the other like the row upon row of exclusive center city apartments which thrived in downtown New York City. Each cage was exactly like the next, a large chrome feeding dish, an automatic fresh water bowl and a rectangular mattress pad covered in royal blue canvas. Each cage was occupied.
Carolyn self-consciously shied from the cages, only to bump into a similar row of dogs on the other side of the aisle. She jumped forward, careful to stand in the exact center of the walkway. Her hands were trembling.
"No, no, my dear," Jason explained impatiently. "You don't understand. These are the show dogs, the famous Royal Benson Danes. Animals like these aren't used as toys for the rich, my dear girl, not champion stock like this. It's taken years to perfect such fine dogs."
He walked briskly over to the first cage and pointed to the pair of matched frames which hung one above the other on the cage front.
"Look," he said enthusiastically, "Look at these pedigrees."
Carolyn moved closer at his insistence, and read the small print on the forms. Royal Benson's King Lear, sired by Royal Benson's Black Emperor, sired by Royal Benson's Demon, etc, etc. The ornately printed pedigree went back five generations and each dog bore the kennel title of Benson. She didn't know much about Dane conformation but she knew enough about registered animals to know that an unbroken pedigree line free from inbreeding was an accomplishment to be proud of.
"And here," he continued, pointing to the second frame, "here is a list of every win the dog has made."
He ran his finger down a long list of titles, pausing here and there to emphasize the enormity of the win.
"Best Champion of Show ... Best Grand Champion of Show. And here, Best of Show! Do you realize how difficult it is to win a Best of Show out of hundreds of dogs from all over the country?" He asked Carolyn, not pausing for her answer, "All of my boys end up there sooner or later. What do you think of that?"
"It's very ... impressive." Carolyn tried to say something to salve his ego but she was still in the cold numb state of near shock.
Jason walked through the cages, calling each great dog by name, scratching them through the wire, praising them in turn as one would children. Carolyn watched him blankly. She had cried away all her tears of horror, the tears of fear ... weeped herself dry of revulsion ... there was almost nothing left. She walked and talked and tried not to think. There was nothing she could do for the present except as she was told. Jason had made that quite clear when he showed her the movie film of ... she shuddered even at the thought ... of that terrible dog at her loins. He had locked her in her room overlooking the dog runs, a prisoner of the damnable electric locks, and let her absorb the awful truth. Once she accepted the inevitable, he had said, it would be easier. And perhaps it was. She wasn't sure. She no longer trembled at every sound in the hall, no longer felt nauseous when a dog barked in the runs beneath her window. Perhaps he was right, now that she had accepted the inevitable, the days had been easier.
... if only she could rid her dreams of the endless hordes of slavering dogs with giant cocks which hung stiff and heavy headed beneath their stomachs, dogs which followed her everywhere sniffling at her wet slit and licking their eager organs. One night in her dreams they would attack her, this army of rutting animals that crowded her dreams, and then she would surely go mad ... if she wasn't already....
Jason gestured toward the door at the end of the blue carpeted walkway. "This way, my dear."
Carolyn walked slowly between the cages, taking care not to touch the wire sides. She had succeeded in controlling her revulsion thus far but the touch of one of those great beasts, the hot wet tongue upon her hand might be enough to loose the panic she felt inside.
The door beyond Jason bore no handle, no means of access. Carolyn looked about for the electric button but the wall was clean. She looked back at the door. There was a small neat plastic sign. "Hospital Area-No Admittance." She waited for Jason to open the door, and then she suddenly realized that "no admittance" meant that behind that door ... only a few steps beyond ... were the other dogs. Her eyes grew wide with apprehension and she backed away from the door.
"Yes, my dear, the Hospital Area," Jason smiled at her reaction. "Rather appropriate, don't you think? We like to think of our work as a humanitarian service. You might call it physical therapy."
Lines creased her lovely face but Jason's suddenly clamped jaw warned them away, and Carolyn forced her features into impersonal repose. She didn't trust her voice to remain steady. She nodded her head curtly, keeping her eyes carefully averted from his.
"Never mind," Jason's voice was tolerant. "You will learn. The others did."
"The others?" Carolyn's eyes flashed back to his. It had never occurred to her that there had been others before her, others who shared her fate. What had happened to them? What was going to happen to her when she was no longer needed?
"But of course!' Jason smiled with amusement. "We have had six, perhaps seven other young ladies. Each of whom, I can assure you, learned to enjoy her work with a consuming passion."
"What ... what happened to them?" She was almost afraid to ask. "Did you ... are they...?"
"Of course not!" His voice grew impatient. "We didn't dispose of them. You watch too many B movies! I simply meant that we had to terminate their employment. They became, shall we say, too enamored of their work. They were wearing my poor boys out and overtraining is just as bad as no training at all. Aahhhh, but enough of that. Come in, come in."
Jason pressed the palm of his right hand firmly against the metal plate of the door. From somewhere beyond, there came the familiar answering whir and the door slid silently open. Carolyn followed him around the elaborate folding screen which sheltered the room from view when the door was open. Whatever she had expected to see in her mind's eye, it certainly was not the sight which met her eyes. She stared at the huge laboratory area. Everything was neat and sterile in appearance. She could hear the faint hum of the air conditioning unit and the temperature was pleasantly cool. There was a fresh light scent of ozone in the air but, she thought with surprise, no doggy odor although nearly half the area was taken up with wire cages. Each cage was immaculate, as those in the outer room had been, except that these cages bore no pedigrees, no identification other than a small neatly lettered sign with each dog's name she could read those nearest her-Nero, Baron, Casanova, Brute, simple names with no hint of Royal Benson registration. Yet to Carolyn's untrained eyes they were as big and well bred as the show dogs she had just admired.
She stared at the dogs, her emotions part horror and part curiosity. Fawn, black, harlequin-spotted animals, alert and obviously in the peak of health. Some were young, gangly legged beasts with huge paws and clumsy manners, the canine adolescents. Some were huge heavy-chested animals; virile, beautiful, terrible ... and each one watched her intently. One immense dog in particular, a fawn-colored giant with a black mask, rose from his haunches when she entered and had paced impatiently back and forth the length of his cage ever since. Carolyn felt uncomfortable in his presence and forced her eyes away from his. She turned her back and left the area of his cage and still she felt those eyes following her. She knelt before a separate cage of young puppies, letting them tumble over one another and chew on her fingers; anything to avert her mind from the pacing dog behind her.
Jason watched with interest. The girl seemed to subconsciously sense the King's presence yet he was certain she did not recognize him after a cursory glance at a roomful of dogs. To the novice, one Dane looked pretty much like another. Interesting, Jason thought, interesting.
"Well, my dear," Jason called her attention back to the business at hand, "Would you like to see how we train our dogs?"
Carolyn looked up apprehensively. Jason smiled, enjoying her discomfort. He crooked a finger at the girl. "Come here."
She walked slowly over to a tiled top counter where Jason Benson waited. He waited until she stood beside him, then reached below the counter into a small refrigerator and removed what looked like a baby bottle with a large old fashioned rubber nipple. He held it up for Carolyn to see.
"This is one of our training aids ... and a very effective one too, I might add," he said with the odd secretive smile he seemed to wear so frequently when he looked at her.
Carolyn looked at the bottle. It seemed like a normal feeding bottle, but she felt he expected her to say something.
"Do you bottle feed all your dogs? Don't the mothers feed them?" she asked.
"Aaahhhh, but this is more than a bottle, my dear girl. Here, let me show you." Jason unscrewed the rubber cover and held it in his hand, nipple up. "It looks rather like a woman's breast, doesn't it?"
"Yes...." Carolyn wondered what he was leading up to. She had an uncomfortable feeling she'd rather not know.
Jason appeared not to notice her discomfort and screwed the rubber top back on the bottle and sat it down.
"Now," he continued, "I shall get one of the young pups and show you how we use the bottle in our training program. I'm sure you'll be very interested since it will be part of your job in the future, a very personal part of your job."
Jason Benson walked to the nearest puppy cage and took out one of the small animals. He sat it on the counter top, faced it toward her, and inserted the milk-filled nipple between the pup's teeth. Immediately the hungry dog began to pull at it licking and sucking and making small happy animal sounds. Then suddenly the pup let out a whine and began pawing frantically at his mouth. He whimpered pitifully and looked up at them with begging eyes. "What's the matter with him?" Carolyn asked, her voice full of concern for the baby animal.
"It won't hurt him." Jason smiled coldly. "He just learned an important lesson. You see, my dear, the nipples on these bottles have a two-fold purpose-they allow a young dog to continue his prolonged abilities to suck, but the nipples also have an unpleasant substance encapsulated between the two sections of rubber. If the pup bites the nipple, his teeth will puncture the first layer of rubber. It's a bitter mouthful! But the bitter lesson is the one first learned. The liquid is composed basically of alum, cayenne and saline solution, nontoxic but thoroughly distasteful as you can see. After several such experiences, our young friend here will learn to suck on the nipple if he wishes the reward ... not bite ... a virtue I'm sure you will appreciate as time goes on."
"You don't mean these dogs are trained to ... to...."
"To nurse at a girl's breast?" Jason helped her finish the question. "Yes, that is exactly what I mean. It will be part of your job to see that the lesson is learned well!"
She felt sick at her stomach. She knew that Jason Benson had more in mind than bottle feeding pups. The puppy on the counter top was squirming frantically, trying to free itself of Jason's hands and the empty bottle. Carolyn had the feeling that the small animal must somehow sense that she would supply its succulence. A shudder ran through her body and she stepped back away from the counter. Jason only smiled and returned the pup to the kennel.
"There are other benefits of bottle training," he continued, "which are even more in demand. Would you like to see a demonstration?"
Carolyn shook her head from side to side, but Jason ignored the movement and flipped the switch on a small wall intercom. "Mario?" He queried.
"In the kitchen, boss," came the soft-voiced reply. "Would you come to the lab, please."
"I'm cutting up meat for the dogs," Mario answered, "Could it wait about five minutes?"
"I'm sure Miss Vance won't mind waiting," Jason chuckled into the speaker. There was an answering chuckle over the static background.
"I'll hurry, boss, wouldn't want to keep the lady waiting...."
Jason flipped the switch down and the static was gone. He turned back to Carolyn.
"Mario will be down shortly ... meanwhile, I think it's time we began your basic training." Jason gestured toward her dress. His voice was sterile toned and clinical. "Would you remove your clothing, please?" Carolyn stared at him, not believing what her ears told her was true. Surely this man could not expect her to casually disrobe before him?
Jason busied himself at the counter preparing another nipple-capped bottle. He poured in a meager amount of milk, held it up to read the measurement, nodded curtly to himself and screwed on the plastic cap which held the rubber nipple tight to the bottle. Then he turned around.
"I thought I told you to take your clothes off." His voice was harsh now, the painted-on smile of amusement gone. His voice cut into her hesitation like a steel saber plunged deep in her belly.
"What for?" Carolyn asked weakly, one hand clutching at the dress front.
"Never mind what for!" Jason's eyes narrowed. His hand flashed out and cracked across her cheek, hard. "Ohhhh!"
"When a dog refuses a command, he is whipped." Jason pulled the long braided whip from the wall and tapped it impatiently into his other hand. "I hope it will not be necessary to demonstrate, Carolyn."
"You can't threaten me," she sobbed, rubbing the red marks which scored streaks across her pale face.
"Take off your clothes, Carolyn." Jason said coldly.
She cowered in the comer, trapped like one of Jason's animals between the counter and the wall while he stood firm on spread legs blocking the only escape. The whip slapped with clock-like regularity against his palm.
"Take off your clothes, Carolyn." He repeated as he dropped the loose end of the long whip and laced it across the floor, making it serpentine with soft scraping noises against the waxed gray tile. Suddenly he pulled the handle back and flicked the lash around her ankle with a jerk. She fumbled for her balance and grabbed at the counter for support. The whip coiled around her ankle like a steel snake, leaving a red brand wherever it touched, a brand that ran thick red blood and dripped upon the clean tile.
"Next time," he said ominously, loosening the whip lash with a quick motion of his wrist, "next time ... higher."
Carolyn bit her lip to keep from crying out. There was a band of fire about her ankle and she could feel the warm drops pulsing out and puddling on the floor. Surely he had known her resistance was only token. She knew, more important he knew, she had admitted defeat the day she had watched those terrible films. Jason took advantage of every opportunity to nurture his cruel appetites. Carolyn refused to cry out with the pain. She refused to allow him that pleasure ... and she began to unbutton the blue dress.
CHAPTER FIVE
Jason watched her every move. The whip laces hanging loose at his side, his eyes searched each curve as it peeked out of the opening front of her dress. When the last button hung open, she shook her shoulders free of the material. It hung up momentarily on the high thrust of her firm young breasts, then slid down over her hips to the floor. Carolyn bent over and picked it up, looked about and carefully laid it over the back of a near chair. Jason watched the fat twin breasts swing against her body as she moved. Just watching their pendulous action brought twinges to his loins and he rubbed the handle of the whip thoughtfully against his crotch. "Bra and pants too," Jason prompted viciously.
Carolyn slid her thumbs beneath the panties elastic band and slowly, hopelessly, slid them down over the curve of her hips. Jason watched the fluffy curls rise over the horizon of the sinking panties. He was tempted ... tempted to strap this girl to the dog stanchion and bury his mouth in the damp furry nest between her legs. She was unhooking the bra now, letting the heavy globes escape. Beautiful! The full firm mounds hung like sweet ripe fruit from her chest ... beautiful. He reached out and cupped his hand, weighing the smooth plump goodness in his grip and rolling the nipple stem between his thumb and forefinger. It hardened noticeably beneath his educated touch. She quivered under his hand and tried to pull away. Her face said she was frightened and Jason liked that.
He laid the whip down on the counter and pressed her back up against the wall. One hand squeezed a breast hard, too hard, while the other snaked across the pale ivory skin of her flat stomach and buried itself in the brown curls between her legs. His face was a scarce inch from hers, his mouth hovering over her full lips like a vulture descending on a dying animal. He could feel the dampness of the fur-covered lips below, warm and wet about his other finger, as the tight-clamped little slit pressed back against the wall trying to escape the probing hand, holding itself shut to exclude the unwelcome invader. His lips came closer and brushed lightly across hers, his tongue wetting her fear-dried flesh, softening them in case she willingly decided to....
It was a temptation ... but the thought of this haughty woman cringing beneath his dogs as she watched their dripping jowls and their eager organs jutting out ... no he would wait to taste her sweetness after the dogs had humbled her, after the dogs had humped her pride into the ground and she had begged him for relief. Wasn't this, after all, the best way to handle women? Make them beg, make them know they were less than the animals which used them? Let the dogs know their pleasures, let the dogs wet the bitch's trough. When she had known the depths to which she could be forced, when she could sink no lower in her own mind, then he would allow her the privilege of redeeming herself upon his body. Then ... and only then.
* * *
He pulled his finger from the damp well of her body, took his tongue from her tight lips and stood back. There was disgust in his eyes. She was only another woman. Why should he give her the pleasure of his attentions? No woman ever cared for him!
Jason taunted himself often with the fantasies of his tormented mind. Until he had found 'the dogs' and made them great, no one had known of him! He had been a lonely and much maligned gigolo, the handsome imported husband of a fat, rich and very ugly widow. She had been but the last of many such women who paid for his attention with the insurance premiums of hard-working husbands. Paid-for passion, that's what he offered. The envied escort, a charming companion, a sympathetic ear in the night ... the night, the dreaded darkness when he paid for the daylight luxuries with whispered lies, reluctant hands upon dissipated bodies, and the drugs which whipped his rebellious penis into shape for the plunge into the soft soggy depths of their ancient stinking cunts! He had been made to feel like dirt, but that was over. Now he was the Master, and the Master he would remain!
He picked up the whip from the counter and began the endless slap-slapping against his leg. Jason Benson scarcely felt the light blows, yet it was whipping his mind into a frenzy. He knew what was happening to him. He wanted it to happen. He needed to be lashed into excitement ... for the years, the long tedious years of servitude to lonely old women had taken its toll. He craved the cry of a woman punished. He needed complete degradation of a woman, absolute domination over her before his lethargic penis would react and feel life. He looked at the bit of white cloth on the floor at his feet, the bra which kept those beautiful breasts from his sight and he smiled his cold hating smile.
Carolyn shuddered inwardly at the sight of his icy smile. Jason sensed her discomfort and wallowed in it. Perhaps he could turn the knife in her guts.
"It has always been my theory," he began in the clinical tone which severed his mind from his acts of debauchery, "that the human mind is highly inconsistent in its relationships with animals."
He backed Carolyn into the comer again with slow deliberate steps and once more stood spread-legged blocking the only way to freedom. She knew there would be no freedom for her, ever again. Even if she were to escape from this mad house she could never wash away the terrible memory of what she had done ... or what she would yet be forced to do. She stood naked before this man and his whip, staring at the floor, expressionless, trembling with tension, numb with fear.
"Man subdued the boar to savor its flesh," Jason continued, stimulated by her submission, intent upon her demise. "He tamed the wild horse for transportation, made him docile and rode him for pleasure. For centuries we've taken sustenance from the cow and the goat. Every school child knows the pleasure of a pet. Don't you see, he has used animals for centuries, used them in every way except the one function which is most vital!"
Carolyn didn't see. She stood bare and bewildered before his tirade, her head down, appearing hardly more than a domesticated beast of the field herself.
"Man is so damnably inconsistent! He's so caught up in his own web of golden rules that he cannot see the pleasures for all the puny penalties that warp his existence! Medical science has proven beyond doubt that the end-all motivation of mankind is sex. SEX!"
"Hey, you're playing my song," came the flip reply from the open doorway. Mario leaned against the sill, arms folded across his chest and let his dark eyes roam Carolyn's naked body. "Sex is my favorite meal."
Carolyn didn't have to look up to know his lustful eyes were devouring her body. The red flush of embarrassment tinted her pale flesh.
"Now, don't you go blushing for me, baby," Mario teased, "There ain't nuthin' I like more than a pretty girl, specially when they're bare ass naked and full of all that motivation jazz the boss man was talking about."
Jason looked reprovingly at his young assistant. That was the trouble with youth, he though they hadn't the experience nor the patience to fully enjoy the sophistications of true eroticism. Hard cocks and soft brains, what a wasteful combination, he thought.
"I was trying to explain to Carolyn about the psychological aspects of using animals for sexual pleasure," Jason began, disgust edging his voice.
"Psych, smych!" Mario grinned, "Let's get down to the fuckin'!"
"Your intelligence is only exceeded by your tact, Mario," Jason said insultingly. Some day he would lose all patience and use the dog whip on that stupid boy. If he didn't need him, he could think of a lot of clever innovations for Mario, but unfortunately he did need him. "I was about to show Carolyn the advantages of bottle feeding our dogs, and...."...." and you wanted me to demonstrate on, right?"
"That's right," Jason agreed coldly. "It's time Carolyn learned to understand ... and appreciate ... what we do here in the lab."
"Oh, she's gonna appreciate it," Mario chuckled and walked over to stand within easy reach of the girl. He made a great show of unzipping his pants fly and fumbling around in the tight pants before hauling out his long limp penis. He grinned at the girl and wiggled it at her. "Aren't ya, baby doll? That hot little puss of yours really appreciates it. You goddam near drowned me with appreciation before ya got the fuzzy thing fucked off!"
Mario grinned as he saw the girl flush even darker at his words. Maybe he wasn't so suave as the famous Jason Benson, he thought, but the girls liked his youthful good looks and got hotter'n pistols when he talked plain sex at 'em and hung his dong out to dry before their startled eyes. He skinned it back and began the slow systematic massage which coaxed the long organ to life. Up and down, up and down.
"S'better than having a cocksuckin' girlfriend, or in your case," he nodded to Carolyn, "a breast fed boyfriend, cause there's eight or ten pups to a litter and they all gotta be fed! Good thing I got a long cock or it'd be a nubbin by now."
Carolyn's eyes widened as she looked at him. He surely couldn't mean what he was insinuating. He was just trying to upset her. It was childish, like a little boy putting worms down your back ... childish, like a young man flaunting his stiff penis before you. She watched him playing with it. He would shape his hand around the pole, slide it out to the end and back, skinning the head clean, then he would take his thumb and rub back and forth across the coronal ridge. Carolyn could see the pink beast moving in his hand like a thing alive. It seemed alive. Each careful stroke increased its growth with frightening regularity. She could see a small drop of fluid ooze from its fat head and drop to the floor.
"I'm about ready, boss," Mario said quietly to the older man.
Jason nodded and walked over to the cage area. He looked up and down the line of wire kennels, pursed his lips in indecision and frowned.
"How about Bravo?" Mario suggested. "He's got a soft mouth like a girl."
Jason shrugged his shoulders, picked up a choke chain from a rack of many, and walked to the third cage. The big fawn-colored dog rose to his feet and danced about anxiously. Jason unlocked the cage, slipped the noose around his great head, and led him back to where Mario waited.
"Sit, Bravo, sit." Jason said sternly. "It's been several days since he's been exercised this way. Would you rather prelim him on the girl?" Mario looked at Carolyn and grinned.
"You wanna break him in today, baby?" he asked.
Carolyn's eyes grew wider with fear and she pressed hard into the comer, her hands crossed before the nest of brown curls at her crotch. Mario grinned even wider.
"No? All right, I'll use him first. Tell ya what, though, I think I'll wet it down with cunt first. Never heard of no dog ever biting a cunt-soaked cock."
Mario walked to the canvas-covered table in the center of the room and pulled the cloth from its lines. Carolyn's wide eyes followed his every move. She noticed the table before, but an examining table in a hospital area, even for dogs, was hardly unusual. But this table was very unusual. She looked at it anxiously. It resembled the hourglass shape of a human body with low stirrups at one end and to the sides. Several sets of woven straps with great silver buckles hung from its sides. The plastic table itself, perhaps an inch thick, was supported by three hydraulic lifts. It reminded her of the service station racks which raised and lowered cars for servicing. Servicing! She shivered. She could guess its use.
Jason stood to one side and gestured for Carolyn to move out of the comer and join Mario at the table. She couldn't move; fear had fastened her to the ground. She trembled where she stood. Jason tapped the whip impatiently against his leg. Mario stood by the table, casually jacking up his big penis and watching the by-play. It amused him to watch the 'Big Man' whip himself into a fury. It was quite a hang-up he had, couldn't get a hard on until he had brought a woman to her knees one way or the other. If it wasn't the whip, it was the dogs. Mario shrugged. He could wait. Sometimes it was stimulating to see Jason whip the new ones. He was a real master with the coil. Mario leaned back against the table, his hand still caressing the cock he held. He could wait. It wouldn't take long.
And it didn't. When the girl didn't move at his first command, Jason snaked the whip behind him and snapped it out with a turn of his wrist. The slim tip flicked across the pink tip of Carolyn's bare breast, biting a two inch cut into the soft flesh just above the fat little tit.
"The table, Carolyn," Jason's voice sliced the silence as deftly as his leather whip had twice spilled her blood.
She looked down at the thin red line across her breast and watched the thick drops that welled from its length and ran slowly down her side. This wasn't happening to her, it wasn't, it wasn't. Numbly, she walked toward the table. As she passed the dog who had sat through it all, he leaned his thick neck out and lapped at the drops which painted lines down her leg. Dazed, she hardly noticed.
Mario watched her walk slowly toward him like a windup doll that falters with each step. He let his eyes slide down her bare figure, pausing at the points of his own particular interest. As he studied the thick brown mat of hair between her legs, he felt his own body respond. His long penis was getting fat now, well fed and heavy. He took it in his hand, aimed the bold head at Carolyn like a bloody spear, and slowly rubbed the corona with his thumb. As she reached the table's end, Mario made a grand bow and gestured with his free hand toward the table top. Numbly, she watched as he pressed a button beneath the table's edge and lowered it to a level she could easily reach. His free hand pressed her down and she felt the cool plastic give beneath her weight, shaping itself to her curves, wrapping up around her and holding her comfortably firm in its grip.
Mario dropped the fat organ in his hand and pressed her shoulders down with both hands so that the soft woven straps would fasten easily. As he cinched the buckle down across her chest, the girl seemed to get control of her mind and began to struggle.
"What are you doing?" she yelled. "Don't tie me down. Oh, don't! Please don't!"
Her forehead was damp with the cold sweat of fear. What in heaven were they doing? She could hear Mario's suddenly excited breathing. Jason had walked to the other side of the table and was fastening her other arm securely, bending it at the elbow and buckling the straps to something beneath the table, forcing her arms back so the pectoral muscles pulled the big breasts high and made them firm to the touch. Her aims hurt at the sockets from the backward pressure and she winced as he pulled the strap tighter and tighter. She lashed out with her legs, trying to kick these human leeches from her tortured body, but the two men only laughed. Each grabbed an ankle and forced her feet into the side stirrups and fastened the band across her instep and behind her heels. If she could only get her feet loose now, she could reach them reach them both, but the straining muscles failed to pull her feet free. Panting, her muscles aching from frantic efforts to free her body, Carolyn finally admitted defeat and lay panting and quiet upon the table which cupped her body like a non-skid nest.
The two men stood over her looking down and each in their own way enjoying her helplessness. Mario rocked back and forth like a cobra swaying and ready to strike, his blood-fattened penis flopping lazily from the gaping pants' fly. He knew Carolyn's eyes were fastened on it in frozen agony. At first he stood hands on hips letting the heavy head bounce lewdly against her bare flesh. He watched the wet spots dot the girl's body, watched with delight as she tried to strain against the straps and pull her body away from its touch but the binding straps held fast. His smile grew broader and he ran his stiff pointed tongue back and forth across the white ridges of his teeth. He could feel the pressure building inside his cock. The slap-slap of its heavy head against her naked skin was stimulating the need to squirt his juice. If he didn't stop soon, it would be too late and he would wash her pink nipples with sperm. Not yet, not yet ... he wanted to do things to this pretty she-bitch, lots of things ... it wasn't time to flood her guts yet. He pulled away from the table and winked at her wide staring eyes.
"Later, baby doll," he spoke softly, pursing his lips as if mimicking her pouting mouth. "Daddy's gotta feed the doggies first. The big boss man wanted you to see how good we train our canine compadres. You watch now, you watch good, cause pretty soon I'm gonna let you see if you can do it as good as the dogs can."
He grinned lewdly down at her for a moment, then snapped his fingers at the dog.
"Ready, boy?" he asked the prancing dog, "Sit! Sit there just another goddamn minute while I soak it up juicy for you."
Carolyn watched with horrified eyes as the slim young man patted the dog on the head, then walked to the foot of the table to which she was strapped and pressed her legs even farther apart. He patted the furry little pad between her thighs and pulled the puffy lips apart with his thumbs.
"Hey, there it is," he whispered hoarsely, "such a cute little pink cubbyhole too."
He leaned his body forward until the hot shiny head of his penis rested against the pink slit of her crotch. He frowned briefly and leaned over to press the button just under the plastic edge beside Carolyn's hips. There was a soft hum and the platform raised up an inch or two. His stiff organ poked at the little opening, between her legs. He smiled. It was just right. He put his warm wet palms on her white flesh and massaged, pressing and kneading the unwilling body, and all the while knocking at the door of her pussy palace with his blood-red cock. Small drops of lubrication welled out its fat tip and wet the tender lips. Now the oversized organ slid more easily. He pressed forward and it popped inside with a wet slurping sound ... and he heaved himself hard into her body, burying the shaft deep in her guts. "Aaahhhhhrrrggg," he groaned loudly, "You're strangling him in that tight little hole. F'god sakes, let go some juice and wet it up a little!" He pulled it back experimentally.
"Jesus!" He slid it in gingerly and winced. "What the hell makes you so tight? You could a'swallowed a shetland pony the other night you were so fuckin' wet!"
"Perhaps she was," Jason growled with exasperation as the boy hung up in the woman's dry box, "but the King had made her hot first."
"You saying I can't get a woman hot," Mario spat at him, "that what you're saying???"
"You were the one complaining, as I recall, not the dog."
"Why you dirty son of a bitch...."
The whip in Jason's hand cracked loudly and the blood spurted from a gash on Mario's cheek. Hell burned in Jason's angry eyes.
"Don't ... you ... ever ... say a thing like that to me again!"
"Okay, okay," Mario backed down, "I didn't mean anything by it, fer Christ sake."
"I called you down here to demonstrate ... not to make a fool of yourself." Jason reprimanded. "Now, DEMONSTRATE."
"Alright, ALRIGHT." Mario pulled his long hard penis slowly from between the girl's legs. It popped free with a loud sucking sound and Carolyn moaned with relief.
"Stand beside the girl," Jason directed impatiently, "NO, stupid, not beside me, beside the girl! I want her to see how gentle my boys are ... how talented ... how effective."
"Aawwww, I don't wanna go all the way," complained the disgruntled Mario, "can't I finish up on the girl?"
"There will be plenty of time for that later."
Mario breathed heavily out through his nose and set his feet firmly apart, one hand on the table to steady himself. He snapped his fingers at the prancing dog.
"Here, Bravo," he called out to the dog, "Suck, boy, suck."
The dog scrambled across the tile floor and stopped before the waiting man, his tail flailing the floor frantically, his tongue dropping with anticipation.
"Easy, Bravo," Mario cautioned, his hand grasping the dog's snout and holding it shut, "EASY, I said." The dog quieted down a little. "Now, sit. That's a good boy."
Mario grasped his long wagging cook from each side with a restraining thumb and forefinger and held it rigidly upright. The dog whined. Mario wriggled the pink pole before the dog teasingly. The animal stretched his thick neck as far forward as he could and sniffed at the fat cock. Mario flinched as the cold black nose touched his warm prick and the hot air of the dog's excited breath tickled its tip. He held the cock in his fingers and waved it in front of the dog's mouth. The long tongue lashed out and licked at the human lollypop, flavored with its musky scent of a woman in heat. It was faint, the heady scent of female, faint but it was there ... and the dog was noticeably excited. His long thick tongue lapped the underside of Mario's waiting organ with long slow swipes. Mario's reaction was one of instant pleasure. He pushed his loins outward, bowing his body toward the anxious dog who responded with eager tongue. Mario closed his eyes and chewed on his lower lip.
Carolyn turned her face away from the scene of debauchery taking place less then three feet from her face. Jason watched her reaction carefully. He had expected the sight of a full grown man deliberately stimulated by the dog's dripping tongue would have, at the very least, a lethal fascination. He took the leather wrapped handle of the dog whip in his hand and pushed Carolyn's face back toward Mario and the dog.
"Watch them," he ordered harshly, "you must learn how these things are done."
Carolyn watched. There was nothing else she could do. She watched Mario's fingers subtly manipulate the firm flesh at the base of his excited organ. She watched the intricate licking motions of the big dog's tongue as it wiped the length of the sensitive lower side of the man's penis and then curled over the damp end. Mario gently poked at the huge dog's mouth with the end of his cock. Each time the long tongue would lash out, he pushed the fat head at the dog's mouth. The fourth time he probed forward, the animal seemed to understand what was expected of him and his rough red tongue wrapped itself around the man's penis and seemed to hold it motionless in his hot mouth. Carolyn was fascinated with the terrible scene taking place within reach of her hand. The gaunt animal held Mario's stiff cock in his mouth as if he were retrieving a bird from the field. Mario was breathing rapidly now; his eyes half-closed, his lips open and straining hard against his teeth.
"Suck, Bravo," he crooned to the dog at his loins, "that's it, boy. Oh, that's good. Good dog. A little more, just a little more ... NOW!"
Mario thrust his moving hips hard forward and the long stiff penis slid over the curved tongue and deep into the dog's open jaws.
"SUCK, BOY, SUCK IT HARD!" He ordered in a loud firm voice, then smiled lewdly as his command was rewarded with watery sucking sounds from the dog's half open mouth.
Carolyn watched in horror as the dog's thick rough tongue rubbed rapidly back and forth under Mario's jerking cock. Sometimes she could see the heavy headed penis squirting its white sperm onto the dog's willing tongue. She was sure she was going to be ill again, but she could not tear her eyes from the animal orgy at her side. Jason's strong hand held her head so she was forced to watch. She tried to close her eyes but she couldn't. Her skin was flushed with shame, heated by the outrage which roared in her mind. The dog's attempt at sucking reminded her of thirsty animals sucking up water from an open gutter. Perverse pleasures, inconceivable depravity, this was the gutter of mankind ... and sooner or later, Carolyn knew she too must wade through the contaminated gutters of this madman's mind.
Jason's pleasure twisted face never left the girl's body. The expressions of grim horror on the girl's face stirred life in his dormant loins. Small tremors of pleasure played hide and seek between his legs and slid up and down his awakening prod. He watched her helpless body for every ... for any ... reaction. He heard Mario's first crude grunts of gratification before he was rewarded with the subtle response of the girl's open crotch. Her legs splayed far apart by the restraining straps, the plush lips of her vagina spread wide, Jason could look into the open mouth of her bitch's body. As she watched the jerking cock spew out its tasty reward into the dog's mouth, the fat pink lips contracted too ... squeezing together, clamping tight shut around the imagined organ poking at her vitals, milking it into the fire of her own loins. Spread-eagled before Jason, her ivory buttocks opened for his eager eyes. The cheeks of her firm little ass closed over the wrinkled round hole. Closed and relaxed. Closed and released. As Mario groaned his soul away, Jason watched several drops of thick liquid trickle from between the hairy lips and grow sticky in the crease of her buttocks.
Jason smiled and nodded. Good. Very good. She was actively stimulated, then, by Mario's performance with the dog. That meant the sweet musky smell of her oozing vagina would be strong enough to attract the dogs. He looked down the line of cages. Every dog was on his feet, pacing back and forth nervously, tongues dripping saliva, their red, pointed cocks sliding out of their sheaths. Yes, they sensed the bitch in heat. He sniffed the air. He couldn't smell it. He never could. But they did! The dogs could always smell a warm cunt. He smiled obscenely and scratched his crotch. He had planned to start her with a dog at each breast, licking the small pink nipples into swollen leaking tits ... but the dogs were excited. He watched them pace frantically in the confining cages, their heavy cocks swollen out of their hairy holsters and swaying loosely under their bellies. Perhaps he should reconsider.
He looked down at the parted pink lips, the swollen button of her clitoris ... she was ready for his dogs. He smiled. It would be double exciting. She didn't understand that the abject horror had triggered her own sexual responses. It would be no more than a matter of minutes before the dogs would have her thrashing about, reveling in her own sensuality, pleading for the feel of their giant pointed pricks rushing up her guts. And he would make her plead. He would make her beg!
His groin throbbed with the pleasure-pains of sexual need. The dogs were ready ... and so was he.
CHAPTER SIX
Carolyn watched in grim despair as Jason Benson wrestled the enormous Great Dane out of his cage and into the sturdy choke chain which afforded only a meager means of control as he jumped and pawed and slid on the slick tile floor.
She strained frantically at the wide straps which buckled her body immobile upon the molded contours of the dog stanchion, but it was hopeless. The tight bands held her motionless. She raised her head and looked down. One strap crossed her chest and pulled firmly under her arms, a second strap was cinched tight across her lower abdomen and buckled down over her hips. With every ounce of strength in her frightened body, Carolyn strained to free herself. Nothing moved except the bulge of muscles across her stomach and shoulders, pulling until they screamed She was totally helpless ... unless ... if her hands were free? ... again she tensed and tried desperately to pull her wrists free but the snare held firm. Was there no way to stop this awful man, this human beast whose monstrous appetites matched those of the animals he served? No way. No way. Carolyn closed her eyes and let her head fall back on the table with a thump. She could hear the scratching of the dog's paws upon the tile and knew he was coming nearer and nearer. Her head rolled from side to side hopelessly. No, oh dear God, NO! "Now don't you go to frettin' over there."
Through the blue haze of near shock, Carolyn heard Mario's teasing voice above the sound of running water.
"I'll come hold your hand just as soon as I get my little friend here washed off." Mario called to her across the room. "Bravo's got a damn good mouth on him but he gets a little messy sometimes."
Mario chuckled lewdly from his place at the low sink.
"He's not neat like you were the other night. Why, it was a real pleasure to service you seein' as how you cleaned it all up after your dinner."
Carolyn squeezed her eyes tighter shut as if shutting out the sound of his obscene comments. How could he, how could anyone be so ugly?
"Now, the King ... you remember the King, don't cha baby? ... he cleans up real well after himself." His comments came across the room loud and clear as he turned off the faucet and rolled his wet penis in the towel. "Mannnn, you two were something else!"
"Oh, shut up, SHUT UP!" Carolyn screamed at the loathsome little man. "Just ... shut up ... OHHHH!"
Carolyn gasped suddenly. Her eyes snapped open. She lifted her head up as high as the restraining bonds permitted and stared in horror between her splayed legs. Bound to the stanchion stirrups, her legs were forced as far apart as the stretched tendons would allow and bent almost double like a grasshopper ready to spring away in retreat. Only Carolyn couldn't retreat from the massive head which peered down at her through the V-spread of her legs.
His cold wet nose poked first at one bare thigh and then the other, sniffing at the man-scented dots where Mario's leaking penis had bounced only moments before. The Dane licked speculatively at her thighs. Carolyn pressed her knees outward until the muscles ached. It was the only part of her pinioned body that she could move ... her knees ... and she strove frantically to press them away from the cold probing nose of the beast at her loins. The effort was a vain one for the dog's head followed the scant inches of her move with little effort. She fluttered her knees back and forth, hoping to discourage his eager sniffing, but the movement only caused her splayed lips to part and the hot scent of her woman hole rose to the dog's snuffling nose. Instantly, he stopped the inspection of the faint scented flesh and licked his muzzle and whined softly.
Carolyn winced beneath his warm breath as the dog panted over her open body. The muscles in her neck had begun to cramp. The strain of holding up her head was too great and she finally let it fall back against the plastic table. She knew it was better that she didn't watch the beastly rape of her tender body, but it was like not watching the executioner's ax. She closed her eyes tight and clamped her teeth and waited.
Jason stood at the great dog's side, loosely holding the choke chain, his eyes glued to the exquisite expressions of horror which distorted her pretty face. The dog's cold nose poked at the brown curls and Carolyn's face contorted pitifully. Jason could feel the thrill streaks rushing through his body as he watched the mental anguish twist the girl's face into ugly caricatures. He dropped the slack chain from his hand and slowly rubbed both palms up and down over his groin. One hand passed back and forth over the growing lump of his awakening organ. He pressed down with his hands, encouraging the growth of the reluctant beast in his britches. It was slow to come, but he didn't mind. As the dog warmed up the bitch, he too would warm with need. There was plenty of time, plenty of time. He let his eyes slide slowly down over her plastic prison and paused to watch the burly animal which hunkered over her trembling cunt. The dog was poking at the open hole now with his wet snuffling noise. Jason could see the girl wince each time the animal prodded at the opening. Wait till he began to lick that exposed little button. He couldn't wait to see the expression on her face then. He rubbed harder at the tingling bump in his pants ... and waited.
Mario watched Jason's distorted leer. What a weirdo, he thought. Hell, everybody likes a piece of wet tail. Most everybody wants the musky lingering taste of pussy in their mouth after the screwin' is done. But not this guy. He shook his head and watched his employer's growing excitement. He's gotta scratch his kicks out of the dirt. Just look at him, Mario thought, he ain't interested in watching the dog lick her pussy. He ain't watching the dog's big prick oozing out of its hole and getting itself ready. Hell, he ain't even looking at her tits. Got a couple of bolts loose somewhere. Gotta be. All he cares about is watching the girl's face and seeing her suffer. He's fuckin' the kid's soul, that's what he's doing, fuckin' her goddamn soul! Mario shook his head and walked to the side of the stanchion where he could look down at the girl. To each their own, but he'd rather get in on the action.
"Feel good, baby?" he asked, the faint smile of perversity flicking up the comers of his mouth. "Feel good yet? It won't take long once he starts licking that pretty little pussy of yours."
Mario looked down at the breadth of the dog's great head nuzzling between the girl's legs and watched as the wide pink tongue lapped out and over his dark muzzle.
"Lick the pretty lady, Nero, lick, lick," he crooned quietly to the dog. "Get 'er turned on like old King did and you'll have yourself hung up on a real bitching screw!"
He laughed at his joke a real 'bitching' screw-that's all the women were to Jason's dogs, just another bitch in heat. They all smelled like fuckin'. What the hell difference did it make to an animal? If they smelled right and had a hole to fit around their dog-knot, they got it buried in 'em clear up to the gonads. He watched as the dog licked experimentally at the ragged pink hole. Absentmindedly he rested one hand on Carolyn's breast and began to roll the small pink nipple between his thumb and forefinger. His eyes were on the dog's thick tongue as it explored the outer crevices of her succulent body. Now and then, his own tongue poked out of its cave and darted back and forth between his lips. He seemed oblivious to the nipple which grew firm and tight between his rolling fingers. Mario's eyes were on the furry tongue which lapped relentlessly at the woman's open crotch. It was heating up despite her mental damnations. He knew because he could catch the subtle scent of her juices. He knew the odor well. Mario breathed deep and patted the near-limp penis which still hung from his open fly, washed clean, but resting from Bravo's canine ministrations. His time would come again. No hurry. He enjoyed the sensual sight of a woman licked into the furies of passion-whether it was one of Jason's dogs doing the honors or a man at her crotch-it was a sexy sight that could stir up a dead man's dong. Specially when the gal wasn't willing.
There was something about the dogs raping a woman and making her like it that bloody well set off his alarm. He leaned over a little to get a better view of the girl's stubby little clitoris. Yeah, it WAS standin' up already. Goddamn, ya had to give the dogs credit where credit was due-they could sure fuzzy up a cold cunt with those rough tongues of theirs. Mario abstractly ran his tongue flat against the roof of his mouth, trying to feel its texture. Too bad he didn't have a sandpaper tongue the way he liked to eat hot pussy. He'd drive 'em out of their everlovin' gourds! He glanced at Jason. His eyes were still on the girl's face, and he was panting in short gasps of air. Mario grinned and looked at the girl.
Carolyn's eyes were closed. Her head no longer rocked from side to side. She was motionless except for an occasional contraction of swallowing in her throat and the incessant chewing on her lower lip. There were small pearls of cold sweat dancing on her forehead. Beneath the plastic nest of the table, her fingers knotted into tight white fists and laid tense in their prison bonds.
She could feel the repeated flurries of hot breath against the tender flesh of her exposed body. The wet cold nose poked in and around the upper edge of her slit, prodding the unwilling nubbin to life. How do you stop the idiot thing from getting hard? How, she screamed silently in her mind, how? It was beginning to swell. The rough tongue was forcing life into the susceptible slit no matter how hard she tried to control it. She clamped her jaw tight and prayed the dog wouldn't get carried away with himself and bite. She would bleed to death. The pain ... and the pain would be unbearable. It would start any minute, she was certain, and it would be unbearable. But there was no pain. The long thick abrasive tongue rubbed at her private parts and the soft full lips of her vagina purred happily in response.
Little by little, the muscles became less tense. If anyone had been watching, they would have seen her straining body sink slowly, slowly, into the molded depths of the plastic stanchion. The grasshopper legs softened their rigid discipline and gradually, hardly noticeably, opened to admit the width of the animal's massive skull. The heavy muzzle pressed against the soft pink blossom of her body and let the long supple tongue work at the open slit, sliding in to taste the first wines of her growing need. Carolyn sucked in a deep breath as the tongue searched deeper, twisting and turning in her woman hole as it would search for the last marrow in a bone. The rough surface seemed to adhere and cling to her. It felt like the educated tongue of the great dog was coaxing her insides to come out and play where he could get to them and massage them into passionate submission. She breathed heavily, her full lips parted and damp, her tongue licking now and then around her moist lips.
She could not move away from the dog's tireless tongue. Yet she knew she must or, god forgive her, she would behave disgracefully ... she would cum! She would pour the drops of her disgrace freely from her body. That terrible dog's insatiable tongue would call forth a climax that she could not stop. His knowing tongue would bury itself in her dark passage and she knew she would cum. She knew she would be unable to stop. And she would squeeze out the scant teaspoon of body wine and wet his tongue ... and she would never, never be able to forgive herself for her own weaknesses.
It was a weakness of the flesh. That was all, she tried to placate her wounded pride, even the Bible spoke of the sins of the flesh and of the saintly men who fell prey to them. It was a sordid weakness of the flesh. But it wasn't Carolyn knew, it wasn't because she was enjoying it, ENJOYING IT! Breathing hard, trying to hold back, Carolyn opened her eyes and stared wildly up at the two men who watched and waited to see her fall into hell. Her eyes pleaded with them-take it away, take that awful animal away, take it away before I weaken! Please! PLEASE! But the cruel faces gloated over her and smiled, each in his own way enjoying her descent into depravity.
"Feels good like I said," Mario tormented, "Doesn't it feel good?"
He leaned over her body and brushed his lips across each nipple, licking it first as the dog licked her scented cunt, then biting the hard little bauble. He laughed as the girl winced with pain.
"By the time Nero has shoved his big john in ya, ya won't even notice a little love bite like that." Mario poised his open lips a few inches above Carolyn's. He stuck his pointed tongue out and wriggled it at her. Carolyn continued to breathe heavily through her parted lips. Slowly, the dog sank down burying his stiff little tongue as deeply as possible in her warm mouth. It wriggled there, hot and trembling, reaching deep into her mouth and tickling. "That's how old Nero's big jock's gonna tickle your guts, baby, only it'll feel like a $1.98 roll of baloney. It'll feel four inches through!"
He ran his wet tongue across her dry lips, then probed for the touch of her tongue. He sucked at it, trying to pull it up into his mouth, but Carolyn avoided the bait.
"Stick it out, baby," he threatened, "before I belt ya!"
Reluctantly, the pink tip rose from her mouth and Mario fell upon it hungrily. His hot mouth sucked the tender tidbit, harder and harder until she could resist the pressure no longer and went limp beneath his mouth. Mario sucked the pink lollypop with a voracious hunger until he sensed the approaching climax in her heated loins. He released the sensitive flesh of her mouth and raised up to watch her fall to her canine lover. Jason knew the struggle which had racked her soul. He recognized the sensual scent which had begun to waft up from her opened crotch. He knew her time was near. The dog sensed the rising excitement in the bitch's body and he licked enthusiastically, never seeming to weary of the game they played. Jason stepped back and looked beneath the animal's belly where the heavy head of his huge cock hung loose and ready. Its savage size made to look even more vicious as it slid in and out of its hairy sheath, poised for attack. A man's cock looked tame next to Nero's fat ten-inch billy club with its hard pointed tip dripping and gesturing.
Jason smiled with anticipation. The girl was already responding to the dog's tongue. She was beginning to enjoy it. But what he waited for was yet to come. He was waiting for the big brute to ram the huge prick into her belly all the way like dogs did-HARD!-and without the human frailty of being gentle. All he had to do was let Nero know the bitch was his, and he would bury his monstrous bone so deep in the woman's guts it would make her scream with pain. That's what Jason Benson waited for ... let the bitch howl! Nero would pump her so hard and fast she would beg him to pull the dog off. He leaned over and picked up the choke chain in one hand and toyed with it ... only he wouldn't pull the dog off. He wanted to watch him jab her with that great pointed prick until she bled! He looked at her stomach. She was short coupled. If Nero buried it deep, it would dig holes in her filthy female cunt. And served her right. Women were no goddamn good. Jason was the Master here. Jason would call the plays.
"Nero," he said sharply to the bobbing head of the dog between the girl's legs, "Go get her boy, fuck her. Fuck her, Nero, fuck her!"
Mario looked at his employer with amusement. There was a big wet stain on Jason's gray slacks and a small bulge behind it calling attention to his indiscretion. But that was Jason's problem. His own dong was standing at attention, wet and willing, and when Nero had ripped her into shreds of passion, he would reap the wild oats. He watched the big dog raise up and fix his feet on the carpeted supports on either side of the plastic nest, straddling the girl, his eager haunches poking its great spear at the girl's crotch. What a cock, Mario thought, goddamn him, what a cock!
Nero poked frantically between the girl's parted legs, the hard point of his penis jabbing into the tender skin here and there, but Carolyn's climax had begun. She was scarcely conscious of the huge animal who was trying to bury himself in her hole. The first tingles of her orgasm spread through her helpless body like ripples on a pond, each one following the other, shimmering in pain, bubbling with pleasure. And then the ripples grew and great rolling waves of passion took their place. Her eyes closed, her head rolling from side to side, Carolyn's only thoughts were of the hot streaks of pleasure which roared in from all directions like speeding trains bent on the destruction of a central terminal. Pain and pleasure chased each other through the delicate walls of flesh, winced and wallowed in the depths of her body, while she lay prisoner at the mercy of her pulsing need. The straps which held her were torture bands for she could not even rise to meet the contractions of her growing climax nor move to ease the straining body. She could not work her hips to hurry it to its end. She could do nothing but lie there and let the almost unbearable pangs of pleasure rape her helpless body. Time and time again the pinioned vagina jerked within the fiat belly skin.
Mario watched the pink lips open and close as Carolyn's growing spasms took over her mind and body. Nero's thrusting penis pressed time and again into the girl's spread-eagled legs only to ram its rock-hard point into solid flesh. Mario watched both the girl and the dog carefully. When he was certain, he reached across and guided the animal's heavy organ through the open door of her split, burying the pointed head enough that the dog's first hearty lunge would carry it inside. Nero had first class equipment but his aim was lousy. Mario pulled his hand away and let Nero's humping body take over.
"Get her, boy," Mario said softly to the near frantic animal. "Fuck her good!"
The huge dog needed no encouragement. Once his great pointed organ had nosed into the bitch's opening, animal instinct took over. He threw his 161 pounds of fury, sinew and muscle behind his spearhead and drove it hard into her hot hole.
"OHHHHHHHhhhhhh!!!" Carolyn moaned, first with pain and then with exquisite pleasure as the force of the dog's brutal insertion triggered the final magnificent explosion. Her body jerked repeatedly, pouring out its warm orgasmic pleasures with wild abandon. "Ohhh! ... Ohhh! ... Ohhh!"
Only when she lay spent and gasping for air did the girl realize the brutal massage of her vagina was still going on. She lay still and exhausted upon her plastic couch. The flesh within her warm wet cunt pulled in and out with the pressing demands of someone's huge hard organ. Jason? She was too tired to force her head up off the table and look. Mario? Perhaps when she had rested a moment ... she lay helpless beneath the tight straps, gasping for air, and hating herself for weakening beneath the dog's tireless tongue. The dog was ... THE DOG! ... she forced her head up and looked down over her naked body into the savage face of the enormous dog towering over her.
"No! Oh no, no. NO!" she whispered in desperation trying to pull her hips away but the woven band held firm. Her eyes grew wilder as she realized what was happening. It was not the jackhammering pain between her legs but the realization, the actual sight of the dog's humping body, that warped her control. It was crushing her sensitivity, the prim flower of her upbringing being ground into the dirt ... she would never know the peace of innocence again. Her eyes focused hazily on the great animal's under belly and the muscles that rolled each time he thrust high into her chastity. Surely, Carolyn thought, surely she would go out of her mind. But she didn't.
Slowly she raised her tortured eyes to the dog's muzzle in motion above her bare stomach. The dog was no longer panting. His huge jowls were closed and he stared intently at the bare wall behind her, a magnificent picture of animal endurance and concentration. She hated herself for the thought but he was a regal beast. And tireless. His strong haunches hunkered over the spread of her legs and he rapid-fired the huge cock into her soft hole with machine-like regularity. Carolyn stared at the fantastic size of his dog's organ as it slid in and out of view. The sight of the devil dong pummeling her body was almost too much for her sanity.
Carolyn knew it was going to happen again. If Jason Benson didn't get his foul beast away from her loins, she would surely fall victim to his well-trained penis. The soft tremors of passion were playing through her body for a second time.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Get ... him ... off ... of ... me," Carolyn begged between the double-time cadence of the humping dog. "Please ... pull ... him ... off ... of ... me ... please ... please."
Jason held up the choke chain and looked at her questioningly.
"Did you say you wanted me to call Nero off?" he asked with a facetious smile. "Yes ... Yes ... Please!" Carolyn gasped.
Jason held the chain before her tortured eyes, held it out for her to plead for, to beg for ... then dropped it to the floor with a loud rattle Let the little bitch suffer like those wrinkled old bags had made him suffer. Beg, bitch, beg. He walked to the side of the table and smiled down into Carolyn's face. He loved to watch the expressions of pain and degradation flow across her lovely features. "Please ... Mr....Ben ... son ... PLEASE."
Jason smiled softly, his eyes had a faraway look though they caught every look that swept out of control. Both hands openly rubbed his pants front now, rolling the meager stick of flesh between his perspiring palms. The wet spot on his trousers had grown larger as his excited hands massaged and cuddled the reluctant organ back to life, matching his strokes to those of the hunching haunches of the Great Dane.
From his unobstructed view point on the other side of the table, Mario watched first the heaving dog and then his employer's growing excitement. Jason always used the dogs to get a stiff going, always intending to use the girl after the animals had done with her ... but he rarely lasted that long. Mario grinned with malicious amusement. You'd think he'd learn but he never did. He just kept on watching 'em, dog after dog, until his puny penis couldn't stand the gaff any longer. Mario had watched Jason's failures time and again. Once the soggy thing got in gear, it leaked out a few warnings and then POW! Mario grinned wider ... any minute now, he thought, judging by the size of the dark spot on Jason's pants. He knew all the symptoms after eight years with Jason Benson. Any minute now, and that was all right with him. Let the dogs get her hot to trot.
They were just warming up the ovens for him. Let the honorable Mr. Benson squirt off in his pants. Who the hell cared? Mario reached down and took a firm grip on the suddenly solid pecker that pushed out of his own pants. It was every stud for himself around this damn place and the devil fuck the hindmost. Mario rubbed his callused thumb across the coronal ridge, enjoying the responsive throb in his jock. Gotta be prepared, he thought happily to himself and milked a few drops of fluid from the slit on the blood-darkened head and smeared it carefully over the blunt end of his club. Gotta be prepared.
Carolyn no longer pleaded with Jason Benson, nor did she stare up at the dog in horror. Her eyes were focused on the ceiling directly over head, oblivious to everything except the powerhouse slams between her throbbing thighs. The tremors which ran through her tethered body were strong now, wild and uncivilized like the animals in her guts, the ten thousand crawly sperm which her uterus warmed and fed and housed. They would soon be joined by ten thousand more and ten thousand after that, squirming and wiggling inside her private world. She could never wash them all out. Hoary pictures of her future floated detachedly before her half-glazed eyes-her red torn hole gushing like a fountain in the park, spewing forth milky white dog sperm in impossible quantities, a litter of puppies with doggy bodies and her face, a long waiting line of dogs one behind the other with their cocks dragging on the ground waiting their turn to pump up the white lady prisoner, and there she was on a chain herself while a prospective buyer looked at her ears and withers and felt up her ass and questioned her pedigree-impressionistic pictures of her future with Jason Benson. Her mind fighting for consciousness and barely holding its own, Carolyn knew both the nightmares and the needs that held her body prisoner. And if she were untied at this very moment, she also knew she would not leave the table until this awful thing had worn itself out.
She began to gasp for breath, deep racking gulps of air to fill her lungs and give her strength for the ravage of her violent orgasm ... for it was on the way!
Each jerking throb of her body's great orgasm brought a low moan from the girl in the plastic prison. The still humping dog was caught up in the excitement, sensed the end was near, and began the guttural whine with which most dogs signal the impending breeding. His dog knot was swelling to proportions one would not have believed possible to push in and out of a woman's fragile hole, and yet he did. Carolyn was whimpering now, partly from the pain of the growing knot, partly from the pleasure of pre-climax when the world is a wonderful soft glow of clouds floating.
"Ohhhhhh, mmmmmm, ohhhhhhhh," she groaned louder as she climbed a mountain of orgasms and reached the pinnacle. "OHHHH OHHH!!!"
* * *
She lay exhausted and limp, her body suddenly squeezed dry of passion and drained of all movement. There was only the faintest flutter of motion beneath the ivory lids and a single sigh.
And still the Great Dane hammered his bone into her lifeless form. His knob would no longer pull free of the bitch's body beneath. The long deep thrusts had suddenly become a staccato of short stabs which shook her body on the table with their intensity.
Jason never took his eyes from the girl's tortured face until she had given herself to the animal and sank in exhaustion. She would never be the same in her own eyes again. He, Jason Benson, had seen to that! And now it was his turn. The dog would cast the last stone of shame ... and then he would casually redeem her with his gift of 'acceptance' into the fold. Jason let his cold hard eyes slide down the girl's still body to the brown velour of her open crotch and watched the dog's unusually thick penis ripping away the last vestiges of her fallen dignity. With one final whine, Nero burst his dog knot and the hot juice ran slowly out into the unprotesting bitch's body. The dog humped one last time, twice, then stood still with his massive head down, panting, as he patiently waited for the swelling to go down in his buried staff. Hung up, as he was on the narrow frame of the woman's body, he could do nothing but squat over his vaginal prison and wait.
Jason felt the warnings coming. He tried to hold back, tried desperately, but he could feel it shooting up from his emaciated balls. Frantic with haste, he grabbed the chain about the Dane's neck and pulled at it. The big dog only looked at him. Then Jason realized the dog couldn't move. He was still hung up on the woman. Oh Jesus, he thought, fumbling with the zipper on his expensive trousers. The zipper lock slowed him down. He'd never make it! Then it slipped free and whirred all the way down to his crotch. Jason clutched the wet-head hard and scurried toward the other end of the table where Carolyn's head lay but a few scant inches from the edge. He could lean over that far. She wasn't getting off this easy, by god, she had somethin' coming and she was gonna get it! The final blow of Jason Benson, ha! And one more woman to squirm beneath his hot kiss of sperm.
It was ready to burst! He held the fat little head tight in his hand, holding the oozing slit shut, holding back the explosion of man juice until he could get his dripping cock between the woman's open lips ... but it was too late! ... and the warm thick liquid spurted into his hand and ran like thick white syrup between his fingers and made wet sticky spots upon his trousers. Jason watched the jerking organ in his hand with disbelief. When the last drop had wrung itself free, a soft sob broke the long silence of the room. Jason spread his hands open before him and looked at the waste, then turned and ran from the room.
Mario watched his employer's retreating back and felt the detached amusement he had known so often before. He had often heard Jason telling people that he, Mario, was 'a little slow in his thinking.' Huh! Well, maybe he was. That's what the doctors said before he ran away from the detention home and he found a job here with the kennels. Maybe he was, Mario chuckled mirthlessly to himself, but he didn't have to watch a dog screwing to get a stiff on. He didn't fuck into his hands. Not Mario Santos! He always found somethin' convenient and willing-well, sometimes willing-to stick it in. Yeah, like the baby doll there.
Mario bounced his heavy cock in his hand and moved closer to the table where Carolyn lay limp and near total exhaustion, her face turned toward the other wall. He reached over and turned her face back toward him with his free hand.
"Hey, baby, wake up. This ain't no time to be taking a nap. You only been fed on one end." He grinned, distorting his features with the lewdness of his intentions. "If you're gonna burn the candle at both ends, girlie, you better feed 'em both."
Carolyn hadn't opened her eyes nor changed her expression. Mario slapped her cheek a short stinging blow.
"You hear me?" he snarled. "You better hear me, little lady, I didn't go fucking off in no goddam dog just to give you a show! You got entertained, now you bloody well better pay your fare."
Carolyn's eyes fluttered several times and then opened slowly. Only inches from her face, the long fat cock joggled and waved in the air. She watched it swaying there with a sort of detached immunity. Then slowly, slowly, she gathered in her nets of reality and realized what the fat fleshy worm was doing there. She pulled her head back and turned her face away.
"Don't do that ... again!" Mario growled down at her, roughly grabbing her chin with his hand and slamming her head back the other way to face the drooling beast which grew from his hairy loins.
"Haven't you done enough to me?" she whimpered.
"Me?" Mario said with feigned innocence. "Me? Why, you laid there and fucked off a hundred and sixty-pound Dane with a pecker like a shetland pony ... and ya squeezed it so tight he hung up on ya, and old piss pants squirted in his hand just lookin' at you ... and you got the guts to say I've done enough to you! Huh! If ya think I did it, you must have been enjoying it even more than I thought you were." Carolyn looked at the small man with disgust, then felt the warm rise of blood to her face. She had enjoyed it. That was the trouble and that was why she was blushing. She wished she could stop. It was like a signed confession to her sins. She averted her eyes from his. "Well, if you aren't the blushingest broad I ever saw." Mario chuckled. "After the dog-hair fucking you got from old Nero here, and from the King t'other day, you just ain't got no cause to go redding up like that ... specially when all I wantcha to do is help me with my little problem."
Mario grasped his long penis and waggled it at her.
"See? It's got a terrible swelling in it. Just needs a little attention, a little mouth massage." He poked the fat leaking head against her lips. It left a wet splotch on the dry skin of her mouth and chin.
Carolyn's body convulsed and she turned her head away.
"I said don't do that again!" Mario slapped her hard. The suddenness of his move and the loud smack of his flat hand against her cheek startled the big dog and he jumped back, pulling his dog pecker free with a lewd slurping sound.
"Owwwww!" Carolyn grimaced with the sharp pain.
The knot had not yet spent itself and the dog's weight had pulled it free by tearing the delicate tissues of her entrance. Droplets of blood flowed from the torn flesh and mingled with the oozing liquids that were the proof of Nero's nesting in her hairy little hole. Together they slid down the crack of her buttocks and onto the table's surface and puddled there, red and white smears for all to see. The dog walked a few feet away, then sat down and licked the woman smell from his contented cock. His long tongue curled out and around his own stick as Bravo had curled and licked at Mario moments before. Now and then a small drop or two of fluid would seep from the center passage and poise dangerously on the brink of his prick. Nero licked them carefully off until the organ was no longer bulbous and had slid back into the hairy security of its pouch of flesh, carried like a kangaroo baby beneath his lean stomach until his Master brought him another bitch to breed. He licked his mouth off and looked around the room.
"Come on, Nero," Mario called. "Back in your cage."
The dog looked at him but didn't move. A small whine came from his throat.
"What's the matter, boy? Want a little more nookey?"
The dog whined again, then rose slowly to his feet and walked to the end of the stanchion. His great neck stretched out and he sniffed at Carolyn's dripping vagina. Mario chuckled. Nero stuck out his thick wet tongue and licked the seeping flow away, cleaning her exposed parts thoroughly with the rough washrag.
"Looks like you got a convert." Mario chuckled openly. "He sure does like the taste of your pussy."
"Get him away from me," There were tears in Carolyn's eyes. Tears of shame, for new the jerking orgasms were still and she could hear the condemning beat of her heart and the crying of her tarnished principles. "Please, Mario, PLEASE take the dog away and let me loose from here."
Mario looked at her thoughtfully, then at the dog. He looked down at the penis he grasped in his hand. Then slowly, slowly he raised his eyes to hers. His meaning was clear. He ran his thumb back and forth over the ridge of his blood filled cock, not saying a word, waiting for Carolyn to make her decision. He would get his way, tied or untied, dog or not ... but it might be fun to make her work without the restraining straps. Once more he looked at the dog, at the straps which held her helpless upon the table, and finally down at the fat head of his jock. He skinned it back slowly and shook off the single drop of fluid onto her face. It made a small tear shape which clung to her cheek for a moment then slid down across the smooth curve and onto the table beneath her head.
"All right," Carolyn sighed with dejection, "Just take the dog away, now, right now, and I'll do whatever you want."
Mario grinned. Some days it didn't pay to get out of the sack ... but today, today was gonna be a good day. He dropped the heavy stick of flesh and picked up Nero's dragging chain.
"Come on, Nero," Mario said happily to the dog whose warm wet tongue still searched for tasty tidbits between the girl's perspiring thighs. "You've done your bit for A.K.C. today. 'Keep the breed pure' ... isn't that what the Great Dane Clubs preach? ... well, you did your part, huh? 'Keep the breed pure-fuck a broad instead!" '
The Dane reluctantly allowed himself to be pulled away from Carolyn's open crotch. Mario led him down the line of cages and closed the cage door behind him. Mario clicked the lock shut, made a mark on the small calendar sign over his cage to indicate Nero had been 'exercised' on this date, then turned and grinned with evil anticipation.
Carolyn strained her neck to look back. She couldn't wait for him to release her from this table of terror. What was keeping Mario? Why didn't he hurry?
"Untie me," she urged him to hurry. "Please untie me."
"I'm coming, I'm coming." Mario laughed out loud. "I didn't know you were so all-fired hot to eat my tail again. Did it taste that good the other night?"
"Don't be vulgar. Just untie me."
"I will. I will. But first ... I want to make sure you understand our bargain."
"I understand," Carolyn agreed hoarsely. "You took the dog away and you untie me ... and then I have to go to bed with you. That's the bargain you want, isn't it?"
"Welllllll, not exactly." He grinned down at her, doodling with the strap which bound her breasts to the table. "I don't want to go to bed with you. I just want you to practice a little of that physical therapy the old man was talking about. You can play Nursey with me, like he was saying about the dogs, only reversed like. Ya see, baby, like I was a'saying before, I got this here terrible swelling in my dong and I need somebody kind and gentle to nurse me back to health. You know ... somebody who can sorta suck the poison out of the thing and make it all better???"
Carolyn's eyes widened slightly. She thought he had meant just ... just ... no, she hadn't really thought that at all. She was just trying to fool herself again. She had known all along what the perverted little man wanted. Pretending she didn't wouldn't help at all. She nodded her head, careful to avert her eyes from his.
"Well, honey baby, if you know what I mean, let's hear you say so. I can't place much store in head shakin'."
"I'll do what you want," came her quiet reply.
"You'll do what, baby, what'll you do?" Mario taunted. "I'll do ... what you said."
"You still ain't coming through loud and clear."
"I said all right." Carolyn's voice was louder.
"Say, it baby," jeered Mario's grinning mouth, "spit it out! Say all the words! Say ... I want to suck you off ... say it, little lady, say it just like that."
"I want to suck you off," Carolyn whispered, almost gagging on the unfamiliar words. "Louder."
"I ... want ... to ... suck ... you ... off!" Her voice was wavering but it was loud enough to hear across the room.
Mario grinned He turned and looked at the dogs.
"You all hear that?" he asked. "You hear this pretty lady begging ole Mario to pump a little down her throat?"
He turned back to the girl still strapped to the table beneath his hands.
"Well now, I guess I could let you have a swallow or two, just to wet your gullet." He shook his head as he untied the straps, wrinkled his forehead in mock concern. "Just don't understand girls these days. All they wanna do is suck, suck, suck."
He unfastened the strap which held her breasts, then the bond across her abdomen. He rubbed the red stripe it had worn into her ivory flesh in her struggles.
"Tch, tch," he mumbled at the red streak, then went on to release her feet from the splaying stirrups and her hands from their arm breaking bind beneath the table. "There you go."
He helped her up to a sitting position and watched her stretch her naked body like a newborn animal and rub her wrists where the cords had bitten deep. She slid down from the raised platform of the dog stanchion and her knees buckled beneath the weight of her body. With a soft moan of pain, she sank to her knees on the floor.
"Well now, wouldn't that beat all?" Mario was quick to take advantage of anyone's weakness of the moment. "Just fresh off the dog rack and she's right down on her knees before the first stiff prick she sees!! That's all right. I understand how it is with you hot pussies."
He pushed his hips forward, pressing the damp head of his cock against her lips and holding her head firmly between his hands so she couldn't move.
"You just go right ahead and help yourself. We'll just call it a little midday snack."
He undulated his hips gently forward and back, pressing the stiff penis against her full lips. When she didn't open her mouth to his fleshy knock, Mario let his fingers wind into her long hair and twisted his wrists slowly backward.
"Aaaahhhh," she grunted with pain, her mouth opening as her head was forced back.
"That's a girl," he nodded down at her, "now you just go ahead and enjoy your lunch ... I'll watch."
Carolyn let the wet head of the fat organ move back and forth across her lips. When it pushed at her teeth, she slowly opened her mouth until the thick trunk could ram its way onto her tongue. It lay there quietly, like an animal, panting and throbbing with excitement, like a thing alive.
"There ... isn't that tasty, my dove?" Mario flexed the muscles of his groin and the fat worm came alive in her mouth, wriggling sensuously upon her tongue. "Can you taste it yet? ... Is it good?"
She could taste it, Carolyn thought with numb disgust, and it tasted like seawater. Wet, faintly warm and a little salty. The salty worm wriggled on her tongue, slid itself in and out of the cocoon of her mouth. Carolyn closed her eyes to the heavy mat of black hair from which this big worm came. When she couldn't see it, it felt different. It tasted different too, sweeter. Sweet succulent meat. Juicy with its natural liquids. Satisfying ... like the sugar tits she used to have as a small child when her mother would take a clean square of cloth and poke a pocket in it with her finger and fill it with sugar and vanilla for her to suck. Yes, it was rather like a long sugar tit. Man tits were no more than sugar tits with salt ... and a heart beat you could feel when you sucked. She sucked at it experimentally, pausing to feel the heart beat increase. The long tit throbbed upon her tongue. She sucked again, gently rubbing her tongue along the underside of it like she had as a child to squeeze the sugar sweetness out of the old-fashioned sugar tit. There was wet sweetness upon her tongue. Just a little. She rubbed harder, sucking it in, then letting it slide out over her flicking tongue. From somewhere above her head there was a deep throated moan, but Carolyn wasn't concerned with things beyond. She wrapped her arms around the warm trunk which grew this delicious man tit for her, grasping a firm handhold on the cloth covered buttocks, and sucked it in deeper ... pressing her face tight against the gaping pants and feeling the black woolly curls against her nose and chin. As a child she used to try to see how far down her throat she could let the sugar tit go, still holding on to the cloth end. She sucked in on the salty-sweet man tit and let it slide down her warm cave until she gagged ... and swallowed at it.
The convulsion of the girl's throat milked hard at Mario's already excited penis. It wasn't gonna last long but by god, it was gonna be one to remember, he thought. Holding her head firm and still between the flats of his hands, he began the rhythmic thrusts into her mouth, dragging it out until he could look down and see the coronal ridge peeking from her lips then pushing it firmly into the dark hole until he could see no light between her mouth and his guts. Each time he buried the spear in her throat, she swallowed and damn near bit the head off the thing. As he slid it out across her eager tongue, she sucked voraciously and tickled the big sensitive vein beneath it. He leaned over and sucked his stomach in to get a better view of his prick and her clinging lips. Once he pulled it clear out, accidentally, and it made a loud slurping sound when the suction broke loose. God damn, it was sexy watching the little broad sucking him off like that.
He pressed down on her shoulders and she sank a couple inches down on her haunches. Then he tipped her face up a little so he could watch the pistoning penis sliding through her wet lips from a better angle. Her eyes were closed ... but her mouth was active. God, was it active! She was sucking harder now, so hard sometimes that it felt like the fat head would pop off and she would swallow it. But it felt good. He would be cumming soon. Already he could feel the streaks of pleasure squeezing through his loins and aiming toward her hungry mouth.
Carolyn ate at the long worm of flesh. The more she held it in her mouth, the better it tasted. The more she sucked the taste from it, the more it struggled to get away. She couldn't let it get away ... suck harder, hold tighter. She clamped her fingers into his butt and squeezed hard. The delicious flesh was worming its way in and out of her mouth faster now, faster across her tongue. Sometimes she didn't time it right and she sucked at a man tit already gone ... like then ... it slid out of her mouth and left her gaping mouth open, mewling and begging for its return. And then it was inside her again, the hard-soft flesh with its oozing tit. She nestled down between the man's spread legs and angled her neck straight up like a baby bird begging for worms.
He bent his knees a little and rubbed the open pants crotch over her face. He was cumming. He was cumming! He lifted her head back up before his hot penis and started throwing the meat to her, HARD. Deep into her hungry mouth, deep, never bringing it out, just short fast stabs ... until the force of his need spewed out in spurts and filled her sucking mouth. At the final explosion, he rammed it deep between her jaws and held her head hard against him so she couldn't move.
Her nose was mashed against the hard cords of his stomach and she was sure a sharp tooth had cut her lips where they pressed against his centerbone ... but it didn't matter. The warm man tit had burst in her throat and the salty-sweet liquid had drenched her mouth. She swallowed ... and again ... and again ... until all that was left was the lingering taste of sea water ... and the contented feeling of saturation.
Slowly she sank down on her bent legs ... and the once fat tit slid wetly from her slack mouth and fell loose upon the fly of Mario's pants. She gasped for air, breathing in long noisy breaths. Slowly, very slowly, the heat of her passionate nature died down ... and she realized what she had done ... and done willingly. She closed her eyes and hung her head down. God would never forgive her. No one would ever forgive her. She couldn't forgive herself.
Why was it, after the first terrible transgression, sin came easier?
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jason had been right, Carolyn thought to herself. After the first couple weeks, it had been easier. She no longer felt more than occasional twinges of guilt over her association with the dogs. It had become a job-with its unpleasant moments, with its gratifying moments as well-it was a job and it paid well. She longed to be free of it, sometimes during the long sleepless nights, but she seldom considered trying to leave Royal Benson Kennels. The hours were good.
She worked from four to five hours a day. In exchange for those hours, she received room and board and $300 a month, tax free ... and all the orgasms she wanted, she thought mirthlessly. She was rapidly building up a nice nest egg ... and an insatiable hunger for sex. Carolyn shrugged her shoulders indifferently. What the hell, there were plenty of dogs in training with Dane-sized dog peckers and boundless energy. She no longer felt repulsed by their great cocks in her body. It gave her much pleasure ... and the dogs were not to blame. They were devoted, well-trained, well-bred animals and only doing what they were systematically trained to do. They were clean, genuinely affectionate and eager to please. Why shouldn't she let them please?
Carolyn yawned. She had been up late last night watching a movie on her small television set. When time came to sleep, somehow she hadn't been drowsy and had lain there for several hours thinking about Royal Benson Kennels. She had made an important decision. When she had saved up enough money, perhaps $1500, she would leave New York and begin again. New clothes new hair style, new town ... new life ... one with a steady job, a nice young man and a normal sex life. She would tell everyone that she was allergic to dogs or something so she would never be put in a position of temptation from their proximity. It was an important decision, Carolyn nodded to herself. Yes, something to plan for, to think about, and to look forward to.
Meanwhile there was work to do. Jason had specifically asked her to come down to the lab early this morning, to complete her chores rapidly. Today she was to begin her 'solo flight' as it were. Dog show season began in less than a month and Jason wanted to prepare her to take over full charge of the special training section. Carolyn smiled ironically to herself. Funny thing, Jason had ceased to force his sexual attentions on her once she willingly accepted the dogs. When sexual union with the animals no longer repulsed her, he seemed to withdraw within himself. He became silent and brooding and his relationship with her was one of clinical sterility. He watched the couplings, studied the dog's techniques and made suggestions for improvement. He supervised their diets and their coat care. But his demeanor with Carolyn was no different than his attitude toward Mario, one of tolerance of the hired help, barely tolerant. Not that she minded, Carolyn thought gratefully. Jason's sexual prowess left much to be desired even if he could manage to get the pitifully limp thing in gear.
She heard footsteps at the door and the whir of the electric trip for the door but she went right on with her work and didn't turn around. The tread was light on the tile behind her. It was Jason.
"Good morning, Jason," Carolyn said tonelessly over the sound of running water in the sink.
"Hmmm? Oh, yes, yes." Jason muttered. "Did you see that envelope of AKC pedigree forms? It came just recently and I'm sure I left it in here."
There was a frantic rattle of papers, cupboard doors opened and shut, and footsteps hurrying about. Like a rat, a large rat squeaking and scurrying about, Carolyn thought impersonally, and she didn't care for rats.
"I can't find them anywhere," Jason muttered to himself, "and I must register those pups before the opening show. "Where in the world????"
Without turning around, Carolyn knew he was making a shamble of the small desk top where she maintained the intricate records of all her canine charges. It would take her an hour to straighten out the mess he made.
"They aren't in here, Jason." She hoped to discourage him from disrupting her work schedule. "I cleaned out that desk just yesterday. There's nothing in there except the lab forms. Are you sure they came this week? Sure they were brought into the lab?"
"Yes, yes, of course I'm sure," he said, continuing his scramble through the once orderly drawers. "Don't you remember, girl, you paid Mario for the extra postage out of the petty cash right here in this drawer! It was a large manila envelope with airmail stickers all over it. Now where the...."
"Oh. Oh that." Carolyn could never understand Jason's preoccupation with show season. It drove everything else completely out of his mind, like closing the door on a cluttered closet. "For heaven sakes, that envelope came nearly a month ago. You left it here on the desk for two weeks and I finally filed it away in the kennel records files out front."
"Huh? Oh, has it been that long?" He scurried out of the lab and the door whirred shut behind him.
* * *
She shook her head. Couldn't understand that man. Not that she really cared, he was another of the disgusting vermin of the world and the fact that he was human was purely accidental! But he could sign checks and cash them and give her a badly needed start on a new life. A means to an end. After all, life was not necessarily pretty even for the 'respectable' inhabitants of society. The dogs were more respectful in their attitude toward her than the many fanny-pinching bosses she'd worked for in the past. She'd had more than her share of that run-around-the-desk exercise that kept most working girls slim. That was what had prompted her to accept a job away from her home town, she recalled, a 'nice respectable job for a girl alone' her older friends had said and so she moved to New York and went to work for the Deacon. Save your money and save your soul ... they expected most of her money donated to the church and the Deacon's respectable son had taken care of her soul. It had been the recollection of this unsavory memory that had prompted her decision to remain with Royal Benson Kennels until she had saved up enough money to really become respectable. "Whatcha thinking so hard about, Lollypop?"
Carolyn jumped noticeably. She had been so engrossed in her thoughts this morning that she hadn't noticed the whir of the electric door. She looked around into Mario's perpetually leering face. "Don't call me Lollypop!" she growled at him.
"Awww, don't be like that," he grinned, "it's just a pet name for a little girl who likes all day suckers."
"You're disgusting, Mario!"
"You don't think that when you get itchy-britches from the dogs, you prissy little whore!" Mario scowled at the girl's back. "Just you let them goddam Danes work on ya awhile and you change your tune. Then you start eyeing my pants, don't ya bitch?"
Carolyn didn't answer. She stacked the last of the dog bowls in the low sink and began scrubbing them clean.
"Don't ya?" Mario poked at her shoulder with a stiff finger. "About the third stud ya exercise, you start getting horny and even the dogs can't satisfy you, can they? All a guy's gotta do is walk up beside the stanchion and hang his dong out and Little Miss Innocence starts gobblin' ... Jesus! Yer just lucky I got a leanin' toward French Culture or you'd be out of luck."
"You wouldn't know what 'culture' was," Carolyn spat at him. "I doubt that you could even spell it"
"Huh! Well maybe I ain't no college graduate like old piss-in-his-pants Benson, but that sure as hell don't seem to bother ya none when your dog-eating pussy's on fire and ya gotta yen to suck!"
Carolyn whirled around with fire in her eye but Mario jumped back and laughed obscenely. It made his day off to a good start when he could rile the girl. He had little use for her lately. It had been great fun when she was scared shitless of the dogs and had to be tied down to be screwed by anybody. She had been a real piece of tail then ... until she got to liking the dogs. Now the only time he could get a piece of her was when she'd had several of the Danes to exercise and was hotter than a Tennessee cracker, and then it was usually with a dog hung up in her and she frenched him. He oughta let her go hungry! That's what he oughta do. Still, he thought resentfully, she was better than the dogs when ya really need to squirt. Goddam righteous women anyway, who they think they were?
"Here," Carolyn shoved a stack of water pans in his arms. "Get your mind out of the gutter and let's get the work done around here."
"Okay, okay," Mario took the pans and walked slowly toward the first row of cages, "but just you wait, hot twat, wait until you're hungry for my meat. Ya know what I'm gonna do then? Ya know? I'm gonna take it out and wave it under yer goddam nose and then I'm gonna shove it up a dog's ass ... and you can suck yer thumb!"
Mario slammed open the door of the first cage and went about his clean-up chores muttering to himself. Carolyn washed out the sink quickly, then began sorting and filling the nursing bottles. She wanted to work. She needed to work. She needed to do something to keep her mind occupied. What he said was true. She hated his guts but it was true. When the dogs had warmed her up, she would willingly do just about anything. It was phenomenal what those rough tongues could do to a girl. Her schedule called for six young lickers, as Jason so crudely referred to the beginning males, a day on Tuesday and Thursday. There were four mature males in training at the moment who went all the way Monday, Wednesday and Friday. And then, of course, there were the pups who had to be bottle nursed a few minutes each and every day and those who were old enough given five minutes at her breast, not for the nutrient value for her breasts were dry, of course, but to keep their puppy nursing habits well in mind through the transition period from puppy to fully trained adulthood. It was no wonder she got a little overheated. With the training schedule she followed, a marble statue would need a tranquilizer. Carolyn finished filling the nursing bottles and lined them up on the shelf of the small refrigerator. The food and water dishes had been cleaned and the meat and kibble prepared for the next meal. She looked around the room to make sure she had not forgotten anything. Jason was a tyrant at times. She had known the feel of his dog whips more than once, and she had no desire to experience the pain again. His sadistic desire to degrade and cause pain to women had frightened her for awhile but she had become mentally numb to the many things about Royal Benson Kennels which revolted her. It was easier that way. He no longer frightened her, but she tried to avoid giving him any possible cause to do it again.
"Come on, you lazy broad," Mario growled from the row of cages, "If I gotta work, so do you."
It was getting harder and harder lately to ignore Mario's crude cutting comments. If he didn't stop it, one of these days she would sic the dogs on him. They were fanatically devoted to her and one word would be all it would take. Just then she heard the electric purr of the outer door and knew Jason had returned to the lab to begin the day's work. She turned to him and awaited orders.
* * *
Jason walked directly to the metal cupboard and removed a small black notebook from the shelf of dog breeding books. He picked up a Veterinarian's Guide To Canine Matings in the other hand, a large thick volume with unmistakable signs of long use. Carolyn watched and waited without speaking. He laid these upon the long center counter, pursed his lips as if wondering what he had forgotten, then with an almost inaudible 'oh yes' he crossed to the small safe which stood in the far comer of the room. She watched him squat on his sparemeated haunches and flip the dial impatiently. When it clicked open, he reached in and brought out a beautifully tooled leather covered book. This too he placed upon the center counter after locking the safe door securely behind him. He looked at the three items he had placed there, nodded his head curtly to himself, then turned to Carolyn.
"Are you ready to begin?" he asked brusquely.
"I ... guess so." Not knowing exactly what he had in mind.
"Then let us make it as brief and concise as possible," he began, "I don't wish to waste unnecessary time with you." He began shuffling through the notebook.
"Well, you're not exactly the soul of charm yourself!" Carolyn blurted before she thought. But Jason only raised his head for a second or two and looked at her as if she had two heads, obviously a freak of nature. Women had always found his continental charm appealing, the older more mature women with experience in the things that counted in the world. He tipped his head back slightly and looked down his aquiline nose at this girl who had the nerve to disagree with him.
Carolyn knew she had erred and that Jason would find a way to make her sorry. She lowered her eyes. She hated his guts but she needed his money. It would only be a few months before she had enough to start over. She swallowed her hate and tried to make subtle amends. "Sorry, Jason." She said in a quiet submissive voice. "I didn't sleep well last night and ... and I have a headache." He only looked at her.
"Let's get on with the lessons, or whatever it was you wanted to show me today. I'll be alright. My ... headache is getting better." She kept her eyes lowered and her voice soft, hoping it wouldn't reveal the steelheaded revulsion she had felt for the man since the first few days of her stay at Royal Benson Kennels. She didn't look up but she knew his dark eyes were boring into her. She waited. "Very well," he said curtly.
He sat down on the high stool which stood beside the counter, thumbed through the notebook to the page he sought and ran the pencil in his hand down the page. Then he looked up.
"Alright, Carolyn." He began, "As I mentioned to you last night, show season begins shortly and I shall be gone a good deal of the time on weekends-Friday through Monday usually-and I want to be certain that you have the procedures firmly and clearly in your mind. We cannot make mistakes in our special training section. A mistake ... could mean disaster both to our customer and to us. If a dog isn't properly trained, he might become excited or angered and injure the buyer. One mistake is the end of a hundred thousand dollar business. I want you to understand how important the proper training can be!"
"I think I understand," Carolyn said quietly. "Even more important, I understand that if I do not train them right that I would probably be the first casualty."
Jason smirked. He tapped an idle finger on the counter and stared directly into her eyes.
"Yes ... I think you do understand. It would be a shame to see one of those plump breasts of yours in the angry teeth of one of my boys! Or worse!!!...."
"I will do my work." Carolyn was fighting her temper.
"See that you do." Jason glanced at the notebook in his hands. "Now, I think the main thing to do is to take an hour or so and run over the entire procedure from beginning to end. I shall ask you questions. You shall answer them precisely and in detail. If you hesitate, I shall assume you are unsure of yourself and we shall have to see that you ... study a little harder."
"Yes, Jason." Bite your tongue, she thought, don't say it. Don't even think it. He has the mind of a devil. Sometimes I think he can even see what I'm thinking.
"At what age do you begin training the dogs?" he started the quiz in his sterile clinical tone.
"The pups are started with the initial bottle training when the bitch first begins to wean them."
"Tell me the procedures."
"I fill the double nursing bottles with body temperature milk, sweetened with honey or sugar, and feed each pup for five minutes. The bottle must contain both the milk mixture and the second solution-soluble alum, cayenne and saline solution. The nipple is to be thrust firmly into the animal's mouth and every pup must actually nurse at the nipple for five minutes each day. The nursing bottle will be given to the pups until they are approximately six months old before they are transferred to breasts and ... and ... to a man."
"Surely you are not still embarrassed at the word penis, Carolyn," Jason said coldly, "Not with your avid appetite for them?"...." before they are transferred to breasts or the penis." Carolyn's eyes narrowed but she retained control of her facial features. She would not let him rile her today, she absolutely would not.
"And why are they kept on the bottle so long? Why and how are they transferred to the human body?" his frozen smile taunted her. She took a deep breath and continued.
"The pups are kept on a rigid nursing schedule to insure that they do not lose the ability to suck. Animals that are weaned forget the throat action necessary to actually suck and, as adults, can only be trained to lick. They are eventually transferred to the human body, male or female, by the same means. We squeeze milk from the rubber nipple on the ... portion of the body to which the dog is to be transferred and allow him to lick it off, gradually inducing the breast ... or the penis ... into his mouth with the same sucking reaction that he has done all his life. As a pup, the animal has had many unpleasant, almost painful experiences with the double nipple and the cayenne solution so he is thoroughly trained never to entirely close his mouth and teeth over the organ or gland. If there is any indication that he is about to do so, he is touched with the electric cattle prod and reminded ... but this rarely happens." Carolyn paused, waiting for the next question.
"You didn't finish, Carolyn. Why are the dogs trained to suck?" The answer was obvious but he enjoyed making the woman squirm. Jason was well aware that she didn't like him. It was about his only pleasure with her now. He smiled. He had a surprise in store for her later today, however, that might make her suddenly more 'appealing.' "Why the training?"
"The dogs are trained to suck and nurse because some of the buyers are interested solely in breast fixations-women who want their breasts excited, or men who like to watch the breast manipulations-and, obviously, men like to have their organs ... orally excited."
"Yea man!" came Mario's sarcastic replies from the far comer of the cage rows. "Some women get a little orally excited too. Don't you, bitch?"
Carolyn ignored him. Jason only smiled. He had something in mind for Mario too. A 'special order' arriving on the afternoon plane from Chicago. Mario was about to furnish him with a little entertainment after all these years.
"Anything more about the milk transfer? You aren't being very careful with details, Carolyn."
"Well," she thought frantically, what did I forget? "Of course, the male can dip his penis in the milk rather than squeeze it from the bottle, or the woman dip her breasts in a pan of milk, when first starting. This allows the entire organ or gland to be covered with the taste and encourages the animal to take more of it in his mouth. Later after the sucking is well under way, only a few drops on the tip are sufficient to remind the animal if he is hesitant or shows a lack of interest."
Jason waited expectantly. He's just waiting for me to forget something, Carolyn knew, what else? What else?
"When the dog is nearly grown, the taste of milk is no longer sufficient incentive for him to suck. When he shows the first signs of disinterest in his daily work, it is time to introduce a bribe ... dogs candy, special biscuits, whatever he particularly likes ... and this is offered as a reward if he performs his 'trick' well." Carolyn thought a moment, then "I believe that covers puppy training."
"You are barely satisfactory," Jason lied, "but then what else could one expect of a woman."
Carolyn raised her eyes and looked at him, being careful not to show any expression whatsoever. She had learned his tricks to irritate her and she refused to fall for them.
"Alright, you now have six-month-old adolescent dogs." Jason challenged her openly "What are the next stages of training and why?"
"At about six months, depending upon the maturity and comprehension of the individual animal, the second training stage is begun. The young dogs are taken from their cages one at a time and taught to associate sexual activities with rewards. He is masturbated by hand and given a reward each time his sex organ becomes thoroughly excited and hard. We must compliment him and reward him, making sure he realized it is the act he has performed for which he is being rewarded with the candy or whatever. In this way, the animal learns that he must perform on cue, never must he act without command ... the final stages of this training comes later in his maturity, of course. When he has become hard, more than sufficient for insertion, he must be patted on the organ and made to understand that the humans are pleased with him for becoming hard. If he becomes exceptionally hard, then he is generously rewarded with several pieces of his treat." Carolyn paused. She was embarrassed in spite of herself, in spite of the actual participation in the training day after day. "May I get a drink of water?"
Jason nodded his head. He was delighted that it was difficult for her to talk about the work. She had grown so outwardly noncommittal lately that there had been no stimulation for him in weeks. Perhaps her "indoctrination" had not been complete. Jason smiled. He would try to see that it was! "Ready now?" he asked when she returned. "Yes."
"Is this the sum and substance of intermediate training?"
"No. No, not at all." She must learn not to hesitate, Carolyn thought. Jason had something on his mind today and she was sure it would not be pleasant for her. The frozen smile had returned ... and that meant unpleasantness in store for her. She wondered what it would be. It was hard to concentrate. "The intermediate training includes four phases, basically-the one just mentioned, rectal insertion in the animal, licking the female parts, and watching the lead dog complete the full sexual act."
"Explain." His words were ceasing to be quite so harsh and the cold smile more noticeable. Carolyn felt a small shudder cross her back. Something was afoot. Something.
"Well, rectal insertion is for the gradual preparation of the male-or female if specially ordered-to accept the insertion of the man's penis. It is accomplished by gradually inducing the trainer's gloved finger; greased of course, into the animal's rectum while masturbating his organ so that he associates the pleasant feeling, the sexual reaction and the reward with the penis insertion. He must realize that these things may be done to him separately or at the same time. A buyer may be a woman who wants vaginal insertion by the dog ... or a man who wants to ease his own penis in a tighter orifice than a woman can provide ... or a buyer who wants an all-purpose animal who can and will do anything at any time, or even both at the same time. Acceptance without nervousness of the rectal insertion and the masturbation must, again, always be rewarded."
Jason waited for her to continue. She was doing quite well. But she was embarrassed and uncomfortable. He liked that. Maybe he could make her just a little more uncomfortable. "Mario," Jason said in that ominously soft voice, "Mario, why don't you leave the cages until later. Pull up a stool and listen to Carolyn's lessons. It might be ... stimulating."
His tone was suggestive. He meant it to be. Only a hint to Mario was necessary. His one-track mind could be triggered so simply. He waited until Mario closed and locked the cage and had seated himself on the adjacent stool, knees apart, his tight pants straining over his generous tool. Hmmmm, that should make the girl nervous ... especially when the conversation excited Mario. Hmmm, yes. The stupid dolt always fell right into his plans without even realizing it. Sitting there like a brazen street walker with legs apart, like a male madam, all cock and no class.
CHAPTER NINE
"Continue, Carolyn."
"Where was I?" she murmured, visibly shaken that Mario had been asked to participate. What did Jason have in mind? "Let's see ... masturbation, rectal insertion ... the young dogs are taught to lick the vulva of the female."
She could feel the blood beginning to rise already. Why did she have to blush, why? It would only make things worse. Better continue. Maybe they wouldn't notice. But she knew they would.
"This is easily accomplished by greeting the young dogs in the nude-at least, nude from the waist down-whenever you are about to attempt any sort of training or stimulation. The dogs are affectionate and eager to please and they will immediately come to sit before you. Since they have already been command trained in obedience, you can tell them to sit and they will stay in that position ... which puts their heads at about the right height to pick up the scent from the woman. Their natural instincts will tell them after a day or two that this is something exciting and they will naturally tend to lick at the source of the odor. Some dogs will immediately start licking over the entire exposed area of the woman. Some must be encouraged by holding their heads to your legs ... or spreading the lips with your fingers ... or if necessary, by laying down with your legs apart so the lips are wide parted and having a second party...." she looked with embarrassment at Mario, knowing she was blushing deep pink, " ... by having a second party lead the dog up to the vaginal area and gently pushing his face into it."
"The natural instincts of the male animal will take over with patience. Once the licking training is begun, the animal's time between her legs should be increased a little each day until he is eagerly spending fifteen minutes to a half hour constantly licking. When the lesson is through, of course, he must be rewarded ... both with his favorite treat and verbally."
"Very well said, Carolyn," Jason taunted deliberately, letting his lewd stare crawl up her body from her crotch to her lips and back to her crotch, smiling when his gesture made her pull her legs together and stand in an uncomfortable position. "Don't you think so, Mario?"
"Yeah," he grinned, licking his lips, running his tongue over the even white teeth while he stared at her. "Course, she really knows what she's talking about, boss. Bet if she laid all the Danes end to end that have licked her off, the last one could piss on the Kremlin!"
Carolyn blushed deeper and glared with hate at the young man who sat on his stool and ran one stiff finger up and down over his tightening pants. Jason chuckled and nodded his head.
"Go on, Lollypop," Mario jeered. "Tell us the rest of your fairy tale."
"You should know all about fairy tails, Mario Santos!" Carolyn raised her voice at him. "You spaghetti-eating queer!"
"Now, now," Jason purred at them with the malignant voice of an evil Piwacket. "No squabbling until the whole lesson is over."
Carolyn glared once more at Mario, breathed deep through her nose and tried to continue in a normal tone of voice. It wasn't easy, not with the two of them leering at her like the perverts they were. Money, if it wasn't for the money ... and that awful film of her ... she would find a way out of this hall of horrors this very night.
"The final stage of the young dogs is to watch at close range, clipped to the floor rings four or five feet from the dog stanchion table, while the lead dog has ... relations ... with the woman on the table."
"Close relations!" Mario kibitzed. "You mean like incest and raping-little-Ruthie and sucking off Uncle Joe? Close relations."
"They should be permitted to watch, required to watch the lead dog frequently. The odor and his full scale participation will teach them the final stages. All that remains, then, is the practice sessions until each dog is dependable and can perform on command. Each dog should be exercised and practiced with for a half hour each time. The frequency of the exercise is dependent upon the buyer's requirements of the dog or his ability to learn rapidly."
Carolyn paused, poured another glass of water and buried her nose in it, grateful for the moment to gather herself together. Jason's ever-present icy smile was beginning to unnerve her. She had learned in her first few weeks at Royal Benson Kennels that it meant trouble for her, the pleasant lull before the dark storm. And Mario, always galling her deliberately with his crude gestures and obscene talk. He had been toying with the zipper fastening on his fly for the last five minutes, sliding it down part way, zipping it up again, then down. Had they planned something together? She doubted that ... Jason had no more use for Mario than she did, really, he tolerated him because he needed him. No, Jason knew something. Mario was merely being Mario. Obnoxious! She finished the glass of water, returned it to the counter and took a deep breath.
"What else shall I explain?" She asked, hoping this would have satisfied the leering man but knowing she would not get off so easily.
"You might tell us about ... oh, let me see, about the special training orders from outside. What are the procedures for basic training-how do they differ?-when the dog is already a house pet and fully grown? When he hasn't been trained since puppyhood for sexual relationships with his owners?" Jason suggested. He had noticed Mario's preoccupation with his pants zipper and that it had increased the girl's nervousness. He had even felt a twinge of pleasure in his own loins when her eye kept flicking back to the delinquent zipper. He liked the look of fearful apprehension. It made the flaccid beast in his own pants restless. He had not enjoyed a full orgasm for several weeks, not since the girl had accepted the dogs, and her own appetites had grown with constant use until she even accepted Mario's gross cock willingly after the third or fourth dog of the day. He had thought her debasement complete when she seemed to feel only the animal instincts and accept their sexual pleasures without complaint. If it didn't bother her, then it no longer stimulated him ... but it seemed there was still life and the nerve endings of her pious upbringing still nipped at her. Good. Good!
"Yes, Carolyn," Mario joined in. "Tell us about guest privileges 'n visiting mutts 'n how to teach old dogs new fuck tricks. How does a pretty young thing like you take a dog's cherry, Lollypop?"
"Specific situations, Jason?" she asked, ignoring Mario's running commentary of boorish remarks. "Or do you mean the basic tactics with untrained adult dogs?"
"Basics will do for a start."
"Anything will do for a start," Mario chimed in, "It's her finishes that turn a man's dong inside out!"
"Don't mind Mario, my dear," Jason smiled facetiously at the girl. "He's a young boy and very ... anxious. Continue, continue."
"When you receive an untrained house pet for specialized training, you must first determine what the owner's preferences are. This is not always easy. Most people who turn to animals for sexual release have some sort of a problem. They are usually hesitant to explain and hope a professionally trained sex dog will just happen to know all the tricks. Basically, dog lovers fall into three classes of people-lonely unpopular women who are symbolically in love with their dogs; unattractive men, or older men who can no longer attract women into their beds with looks or money, or the oversexed who simply cannot get enough sexual experiences. The ones who are interested in 'something different' are among the minority, even though a well-trained dog is equally if not more effective in technique and has endless endurance. "Privately owned dogs are very difficult to teach because they are like spoiled children, undisciplined, untrained and hard to control. The best procedure is to allow the animal to excite himself the first few times-be in his vicinity and unclothed, frequently fondle and pet him, scratch his ears, anything which will encourage him to stand with his nose in the vicinity of your legs where he will catch the sexual scent. Nature will take care of his arousal and interest in the female odor. Spread your legs and make it easily available-whether its a man's penis or a woman's body-almost any dog will begin licking immediately. Time and encouragement will kindle an almost rabid interest...." and...." Jason prompted. He was beginning to squirm deliberately on his stool. He knew Carolyn was aware of his movements and he wanted it that way. She must suspect something was in the plans for the day, something special that she would gradually grow to fear and to dread. It made the game of stud and whore all the more intriguing to him.
"And after the dog himself has decided he is aroused, and after you have let him lick his fill several times, you will find he is an apt pupil for new tricks." Carolyn paused, thinking quickly, she didn't want to give any excuse for Jason's possible punishments. "It is a rare house pet, if he is adult, who can be trained in the finer arts of bestiality. Nearly all animals, however, can be trained to lick and to ... and to complete the normal sex act with a woman."
"Very good. You have an excellent memory, my dear." Jason commented. "You must have your heart in your work."
"Her snappin' little old pussy ain't far behind either," came Mario's inevitable addition. "Haven't you ever heard that old rib, boss. A pecker in the mouth is worth two in the bush? Well, she has a fuzzy bush but by the time she's had two of them ole Danes pumping it to her, she's looking for one in the mouth. Aren't ya, Lollypop?"
Mario suddenly ripped his zipper to the crotch and shook out his fat firm penis. Bouncing it in his hand, he began to sing the words to the song ... Lollypop, Lollypop ... skinning the head back on each 'pop' syllable.
Jason watched the look of horror finally win out and sweep across Carolyn's face. Immediately, he knew the thrill of answering tingles in his loins. Maybe now was the time. Maybe if he gave the girl to that stupid oaf, she would be mad enough, frightened enough to cause his own worn waif to raise his head honorably ... and then he'd show her! He'd show that woman that no one spoke down to Jason Benson.
"Mario????" he began softly, "You haven't taken many 'privileges' lately, have you? I've been feeling guilty about that. You've worked for me for a long time and sometimes I forget how hard you work ... would you like to?? ... would you have any new ideas for???? ... I think we could find time for a coffee break if you needed to do anything???"
"Jason, how could you?" Carolyn shrilled. "I thought we'd been through all that ... that...."
"All what, my dear?" Jason cooed. "I rather got the impression that all your sexy conversation had given our dear friend a problem. Now you wouldn't want a dear friend to have a problem, would you? WOULD YOU?" His tone suddenly went sour and he reached for the nearest whip on the rack behind him. He pulled it slowly from its peg and began to snake it across the floor to his stool.
Carolyn stared. She had thought it was all over. She had the dogs all day and ... and she usually took Mario before the day was over, when the dogs had her so hot she was nearly out of her mind. But that didn't count. When a woman was sexually hot, the things she did were ... were different. She wasn't hot now. She was scared. Scared silly.
"We ... we haven't finished the testing. Can't we finish the test first?" she pleaded. "She does have a point, Mario," Jason teased.
"Well, shit, so do I!" Mario yelled impatiently. "I got a point right here in my hand that's gonna be shoved clear down her smart-talking throat!" He got down from the stool and headed for Carolyn.
"MARIO!" Jason's voice was cold steel in the quiet room.
His voice was like the rumble of thunder. Mario stopped dead in his tracks. He didn't turn around to look at Jason Benson but he stood stock still.
"I had a thought, Mario." Jason said softly in his direction. "Why don't we let her finish the test and...."
"... and hell!"...." and see if she can think under duress" Jason continued as if he hadn't been interrupted at all. "If a woman can think clearly under great stress, she should know her lessons pretty well, wouldn't you say?"
"Yeah," Mario agreed hesitantly. He wasn't sure whether Jason's idea was intended for Jason's benefit or his own. It was hard to tell. "Yeah, I guess so, but what do ya' have in mind?"
"Well," Jason began, his eyes on Carolyn's, never faltering, never looking away. "We owe Carolyn something too. She hasn't been with us long but she has been very good with the dogs and worked very hard. I had a treat in mind that I'm sure you would both enjoy ... eventually...." Carolyn felt her skin turn cold.
"Yeah?" Mario bounced on his stool like a demented child. "What we gonna do, boss, what, what? What we gonna do to her?"
"Do to her? Why, my dear boy, I'm not going to do anything to her. Where do you get such mundane ideas?" Jason teased, his eyes still blazing into hers. "I only meant that the two of you have worked so hard with the dogs, and Carolyn has learned her lessons well ... I thought I might give you a chance to really let down your hair and celebrate. Would you like that, Carolyn, would you enjoy a big party???"
Carolyn had the feeling she was being led down the ramp to slaughter, following the Judas goat. Jason had never had a guest in his house since she had come to work there several months before. There were only the rare appointments with legitimate dog breeders when she was warned to stay out of sight, and the late night visits of potential buyers who looked over the stock and selected an animal for training and then departed as quietly as they came. No one for a party. No one would accept an invitation from him, if they knew him, but the devil himself! What was he up to? She returned his stare with curious eyes but didn't speak. Mario, however, was visibly upset.
"What's a party got to do with a little fuckin' right here and now?" Mario complained. "I thought you meant...."
"Patience, my boy, patience." Jason looked at him and winked broadly, making certain that Carolyn saw the gesture of reassurance. "This is still a work day, you know, and I think we should finish Carolyn's test first like she said. I only mentioned the party to give you both something to look forward to. We'll discuss the party in a little while ... and how many guests we should include."
Jason let his eyes burn a hole between her legs. Had she gotten the veiled implication? He wanted to see her suffer. His eyes returned to her face. He watched her expressions carefully. He wanted to see the look of fresh horror scratched across her pretty face when she realized what he meant. And he wasn't disappointed. He had finally broken her. After weeks of immobile expressions and silent acceptance of the sexual favors asked of her, he had broken her will to his! The look of terror had returned to her face. The sleeping penis between his thighs knew and was slowly awakening. It was lying there listening to its own heartbeat growing louder and louder. Jason's enthusiasm knew no bounds, nor his methods any morals.
"How many males are ready for sale right now, Mario?" he asked the young man suddenly.
"All ready? Well, there's the big pair of fawns from Long Island ... the brindle with the big cock ... aaaa ... the two black Danes on the end of the row," Mario pointed toward the first row of cages " ... and ... and ... oh yeah, there's four big studs in the indoor runs, the ones we finished up with last week. That makes nine altogether, I think." Jason smiled and nodded his head.
"Nine. Hmmmm. Nice round number for a party, wouldn't you say?"
Mario frowned. What's so great about that? They'd been working those dogs for months. One more screwing wasn't no goddam big deal!
"You don't understand, dear boy." Jason's voice was no more than a hoarse whisper. "I thought we'd hold the party in the indoor arena ... and we'll let Carolyn welcome our guests ... all of them ... all at once."
There was a sharp gasp as Carolyn caught her breath. Her hand flew to her mouth and she bit hard on one finger. He couldn't mean all nine Great Danes mauling around her naked body at once. Nine animals, all trained to respond sexually at the sight of a woman's bare body, nine! He couldn't mean that. But he did.
The next hour was hell encapsulated. Carolyn recited by rote the hundred questions Jason threw at her and all the while her mind's eye saw the rape of her tender flesh beneath the milling dogs. Her eyes were wide and she stared fixedly at the cages at the other end of the room, shivered when the dogs stared at her, felt chilled at the occasional pointed penis which peeked out of its hairy sheath. He continued to throw questions at her as if nothing had occurred. She answered them tonelessly, her voice as numb as her shocked mind.
"If the dog's organ won't slide through the T-shaped opening slit on the sheath, surgery will painlessly lengthen the extremities of the T."
"To effect total copulation, the dog knot must slide completely out of the sheath. This will force the tight sheath behind the knot and keep the bare penis exposed throughout the entire sex act."
"Dog-hair stimulation means that the hairy sheath itself is inserted in the vagina-this happens frequently if the sheath is not deliberately skinned back behind the knot and the rubbing of the stiff short hair in the vagina excites the user to repeated orgasms before the dog is hung up."
"No, most dogs are no larger than a man, sometimes less in circumference, but the dog knot swells to three-inch widths and is located half way down the penis where it rubs the most susceptible parts of the inner vagina."
"It is possible to increase an animal's penis size by proper stimulation daily if it is begun as a puppy. Animals are still by and large in the 'adjusting' stage where the body acclimates itself to its environments-animals grow long hair if the weather is cold, shed if the weather is hot, lose sight and develop hearing if confined in the dark, grow heavier muscles if their daily activities show a need. If the organ is exercised manually from puppyhood, the body will adjust its capacities to the muscle requirement. It may increase as much as an inch in width and two inches in length."
On and on Carolyn droned in answer to his smiling questions, not seeming to hear, yet making the proper replies. She could almost hear the animals sniffing at her body, feel the hot wet tongues upon her skin, the hard pointed tips jabbing into her flesh here, there and everywhere, for an excited animal knows only the need to hump. If her bitch's hole was filled, they would mount an arm or a leg and hump the hard point into any part of her warm flesh. It all smelled of woman and they felt only the need to hump against it.
"No, a dog's tail need not be docked off to allow a man to comfortably use him. Training will teach him to keep it out of the way."
"A male will accept rectal insertion as readily as a female will accept a man, the advantage of the male being that he is very genuinely excited by the sexual scent whereas the female simply waits for you to finish and go away."
"Simple surgery should be performed on dogs intended for sex usage, separating the thin web of skin which holds the sheath tight up against the body. The operation is a simple one taking but a couple of minutes and rarely even bleeds. It will allow the heavy sheath to hang down and affords more accessibility, dog-hair insertions, and of course the extremely sensual appearance of the long organ case hanging low beneath the dog's stomach. The head will frequently remain exposed after such surgery even in a state of dormancy."
Carolyn's throat was dry. It was hard to swallow, hard to speak. The faint scent of fear which animals sense had invaded the cage area and all the Danes were on their feet and pacing nervously back and forth in their cages.
"One last question, my dear," Jason said with a contented sigh, "and then we can get on with our party preparations. Carolyn, how does one train an animal not to embarrass its owner in front of less understanding guests who might visit the home occasionally?"
Her voice had the mechanical sound of an old wind-up phonograph, weirdly falsetto and trembling.
"From the first day of sex training, a dog must be oriented to key words ... down, for instance, should mean no smelling, licking or sex indications. If the dog's organ is dragging in front of a guest, a sharp slap directly to the offending organ will kill the urge instantly and it will disappear back into its sheath. A hard thump with the thumb and forefinger, like shooting marbles, will accomplish the same thing. The owner or trainer must select a specific word for each service the dog is to perform and he is trained to respond only to that word and not to act upon his own. Some dogs are trained to respond only to patting on the part of the body he is to work on, some associate sex services only with an unclothed body. The important secret is to never under any circumstances vary the dog's signals."
Finally silent, Carolyn no longer had the memorized words to hide behind. Jason smiled at her, his dark eyes bright with satyric luster, and nodded his head with approval.
"You have learned your lessons well, my dear," he leered at her crossed legs, "and now you shall enjoy your reward."
He stood up, waved a beckoning hand at his assistant and walked to the row of large storage cabinets behind the pup cages. He pressed a section of the floor molding and turned to smile at the trembling girl. Behind him, one whole cabinet and the three foot section of wall behind it moved on its own axis and revealed a hidden room. Carolyn stared. She had not known about the hidden door ... nor the sadistic torments that must lie within. A small sob caught in her throat.
"Come, come, you two. Don't tarry." Jason had picked up one of the braided whips on his way across the room and he slapped it against his leg impatiently now. "Our guests are anxious to meet you again, Carolyn ... under less formal, less restrictive circumstances. Controlled experiments are such a bore, don't you agree?"
CHAPTER TEN
Jason held the door open and beckoned for his two charges to enter. Mario slid off his stool, hitched his tight continentals up to ease the strain on his heavy-headed organ which bounced freely in the open fly, and headed for the door with a smile on his face. It had been a long time, too long, since he had been involved with more than the daily routines of sex training.
He liked the special effects of Jason's cruelties. It always meant something different, something exciting, for him too for Jason inevitably worked his victims up to fever pitch and left them wanting and begging for help. Mario smiled as he went through the door. He would help them. He would feed their ravenous appetites. Tube feed them, like hungry helpless babes, until they cried enough ... and a little more.
"We're waiting, Carolyn," Jason flicked the braided quirt against his pant leg. 'I do hope you will join us ... willingly."
Carolyn knew she had no choice. She forced her reluctant legs to carry her across the room, past Jason's extended arm on the door, and into the secret room. Perhaps it wouldn't be ... too bad. After all, she had known the dogs for two months, worked with them, known the feel of their tongues and their humps. 'Uncontrolled experiment' Jason had said. Uncontrolled? The word worried her. If Jason merely intended for her to take on the nine Danes one after the other to see her suffer, welll ... she would be totally exhausted, probably raw and sore, but she could stand it. But he had said 'uncontrolled' and 'experiment' and she felt the chill of mortal fear at the sound of his voice mouthing the words. She heard the door swing shut behind her. Escape was gone.
"Well now," Jason began, "why don't we all get comfortable for the party, hmmm?" He began unbuttoning the top buttons of his expensive sport shirt and looked expectantly first at Mario and then at Carolyn.
"You can lay your things here," he indicated the line of velour covered theater-type seats which ran in a single circular row around the perimeter of the room. "You too, my dear."
Carolyn shivered. There was no use putting off the inevitable. If he found her obedience too slow, he would use the bite of the whip to speed her up. She had learned that lesson the hard way and had a few faint scars to remind her of his accuracy. She reached behind her and slid the long zipper down the back of her dress, let it slide off her shoulders, down her slim body and then carefully stepped out of it. It's fresh cherry color was sensually dramatic against the deep royal blue of the velour seats. Royal Benson blue, she thought ironically, what else? Jason had bent over and was fussing with a knotted shoe string. It gave Carolyn a minute to look around the secret room, 'the arena' Jason had called it.
It was an average size room, perhaps fifteen feet square, but there the normalcy ended. Theatre seats had been bolted to the floor in a perfect circle. There were twenty chairs in all, an opening the width of two additional seats left on each side of the room, one where the swinging doors had let them in and another on the opposite side of the room before a second doorway. Carolyn wondered where the doorway led. She had never been beyond the lab area. Mario cared for the show dogs, some of whom he had said were kenneled in the outer areas. Naive to the point of stupidity, she chided herself, she had never given a thought to what else lay beyond the door. Perhaps if she had known, she would not have decided to remain at Royal Benson Kennels for the sake of the money.
She pressed a speculative finger into the royal blue velour of the near seat. It was expensively padded and soft. It would be, she knew. Jason Benson could afford the best and it made him feel important to prove his worth to anyone ... even to whomever shared the seats of this barbaric stage. That's what it was, she was certain. What else could it be? She looked about carefully. Perhaps there was a clue to its use. The walls were subtly toned in shades of blue. Well appointed light fixtures, shaded and pointed toward the ceiling, gave the room the faintly ethereal appearance of an old Grecian stage in the moonlight. Just within the entrance door hung a plate of silent switches which could, no doubt, heighten the lighting effects. Jason was effective ... if immoral.
Subconsciously perhaps, Carolyn had avoided looking at the center stage but now her eyes could avoid it no longer. The blue patterned carpeting reached from the wall beneath the seats, then a circle of subtle gold about twelve inches wide encircled the raised dais of the stage. The stage itself was raised some six inches above the normal floor level and was carpeted in the same solid royal blue tone of the velour seats and decorations. She didn't bend to touch its texture but she knew that it would be thick and dense and luxuriously soft beneath her fingers. It was a lovely room ... she wished she was not a part of its brutal entertainment.
Jason's eyes had been on the girl for some time, watching her expressions as she surveyed the opulence of the room, enjoying the controlled revulsion that flooded her eyes as she stared at the raised platform center. She knew, she thought she knew what lay ahead for her ... but the subtle gnawing fear of not being sure gave her a helpless appeal. Jason's usually dormant desires were already warming with anticipation. He pressed his hands, palms flat, against his groin and held them there. He could feel the warmth of body heat and the small bulge that meant his penis was beginning to make ready beneath his pants. He undid the button and released the zipper lock.
"God, you two are slow!" came Mario's harsh impatient voice, "Let's get this show the hell on the road!"
"Patience, my boy, patience." Jason calmed Mario with a look of warning. He didn't intend to hurry these last subtle moments of waiting. Only the inexperienced gulped down the delights of love, and then were hungry again. The wise savored each exquisite flavor and committed each sensation to memory, to be relived in the privacy of one's thoughts time and time again in the lonely hours of the night. The agonizing anticipation was the gourmet sauce of any sexual appetite and he, Jason Benson, certainly intended to make the most of his opportunities.
"You must not keep your 'guests' waiting, dear girl," Jason tormented. "Do continue with your disrobing."
Carolyn reluctantly reached behind her back and released the hook which held the brassiere and let the large lacy cups give up their heavy burden. In the subtle light of the blue room, her full-pointed breasts took on the appearance of delicately carved marble. She hooked her fingers in the elastic band of the gossamer panties and slid them over the gentle curve of her hips. Carolyn felt suddenly alone and utterly helpless in the presence of insanity. In these awful moments before one of Jason's perverted sex sessions, she always felt the illusive quality of insanity. She too must be insane to have thought she could bear up under his madness for long. Money wasn't worth it.
What really bothered her, Carolyn knew, was not the loss of income should she find a means of escape ... but the knowledge that she had come to need the violent inescapable uncontrollable sexual reactions. Her body craved the prolonged stimulations which always brought her to the brink of ecstasy where the morals of civilization no longer mattered, where nothing mattered except wild wonderful orgasms. There! She had finally admitted it. She was afraid of Jason Benson ... but she was more afraid of doing without the sexual satisfaction the dogs gave her. There was a certain relief in admitting it to herself, Carolyn thought, but a psychologically unnerving thing to realize that a man couldn't satisfy her animal appetites.
My god! The realization hit her suddenly. I've become no more than an animal myself! She gripped the back of the seat where she had been absentmindedly laying her bra and panties, gripped until her fingers were white. I've got to get out of here ... now ... NOW! Or I'll go mad!
* * *
She turned suddenly and ran for the door, clawing at its flat closed surface like a trapped animal fleeing for its life. Dry sobs racked her naked body as she leaned against the cool metal surface, fingers searching for the hidden mechanism which released the electric lock. Loud sobs born deep within her tormented mind, sobs which shook her whole body and left her weak. Carolyn slowly sank to her knees before the door, hung her head and whimpered softly for a moment, then she was silent. Streams of tears ran down her face, across her bare breasts and made the final leap to her legs and to the floor. But sound had ceased. A soul dies silently. Only the body suffers audibly.
"Jesus H. Christ! What got into her?" Mario gasped.
Jason wore the icy smile of irony which marked his face in moments of stress to others. He'd wallow in the misery of others, bask in shadow of their suffering. And why shouldn't he, Jason thought as he watched Carolyn slumped before the locked door, why shouldn't he? Twenty years of sexual servitude to the old and the ugly, twenty years of culling through the dregs of unwanted womanhood to skim off a living ... ahhhh but no more. Jason drew himself up to his full stature, somewhat less imposing in the nude than when he was expensively tailored, and became the Lord and Master of his desperate little world.
"Mario!" His voice clear and firm in the silence of the room. "You will tie the woman to the dais!"
"Tie her?" Mario questioned. "She really digs the dogs, boss, I don't think we have to tie her down."
"You don't think? You don't think?" Jason roared. "Why, you demented ... psychotic ... little ... little pimp! You haven't brains enough to think. You haven't the sensitivities of the average pig. Think? All you can think about is that oversized mindless prick of yours, that gross bloated mistake of nature. You can't do anything right. You can't even grow a normal sized prick."
Jason's face was turning red. He had despised Mario Santos since the first time he had seen one of his women look at Mario's large organ in preference to his own diminutive one. He had hated the slow-witted Italian for his youthful good looks, his lean muscular body and most of all for the generosity of his equipment. For years he had contained his hate and taken perverse pleasure in turning the dull witted boy away from the normal sexual pleasures by inducing him to partake of the animals of the kennel. He would have disposed of him ... except that he needed a strong back and a weak mind to help with all the kennel work. You couldn't hire just anyone to work in the special section. You could trick a woman, as he had tricked Carolyn and all the others with the dog photos and the threat of prison, but you couldn't trick a man. Not a mentally stable man. Mario had the mind of a twelve-year-old child, the needs of a man, and could be led around by his disgusting prick as simply as leading a horse by the halter. He hated the boy. Hated him! And hated his long fat disgusting penis! "I said tie her down!"
"Okay, okay, don't lose your cool."
Mario stalked resentfully over to where Carolyn still slumped before the locked door and roughly pulled her to her feet by one wrist.
"Come on, baby," he growled. "Let's tie that hot little pussy cat to the floor and let the dogs chase it."
Carolyn followed numbly behind the grumbling Mario as he lead her by one arm to the blue-carpeted platform in the center of the room. Her cheeks were streaked with tear stains, some wet, some drying into salty trails already from the feverish heat of her body. Mario pressed down upon her shoulders and she sank upon the carpet like a rag doll, limp and totally unresisting.
Mario began to feel about on the carpet, running his fingers across the plush weave, and groaning when his bare knee found one of the concealed metal rings he sought. He rubbed the injured flesh, then lifted up on the ring. A small circle of blue carpet raised up to reveal a leather wristlet fastened to the floor beneath. He reached around, grabbed Carolyn's wrist and pulled her toward the ring, snapping the clasp shut with a loud click. She looked at her wrist with dull eyes but showed no sign of emotion. Mario moved to the other side, found the removable ring and pinioned one ankle to the floor as well.
Jason watched with great anticipation as his assistant spread-eagled the unresisting girl to the platform, stretching her ivory form into a fleshy "X" upon the deep pile carpet. She stared straight up at the ceiling now, breathing softly through her parted lips, her eyes lightly glazed with the shock of realization. Not seeing. Not caring.
"There!" Mario grinned at his employer when his task was finished. "Shall I get the dogs now?"
Jason continued to stare at the girl's tight stretched position. The faint glow of the neon tube lighting made her skin look like white alabaster. Like a gigantic woman-shaped pearl upon a deep blue jeweler's cloth. The perfect setting, Jason thought happily, for his ultimate experiment.
"Yes," Jason answered finally, "Yes, Mario, you may bring in the dogs. Wait ... I want you to bring all the dogs who have completed their training, except the King of course, bring all the sale animals into the holding run ... all nine of the lovely brutes.. and then come back here to the arena. I will release them from here."
Jason continued to stare at the still body, naked upon its jeweler's plush, his own naked form blue-veined and anemic in comparison to the beautiful ivoried perfection of Carolyn's living sculpture.
"Yes," he muttered to himself, "I will release them from here. I want to see all nine of my lovely boys use her treacherous woman's body."
"You mean all at once, boss? You wanna turn nine full grown Danes loose in here at once?"
"Yes, Mario, that is exactly what I mean!" His lustful eyes never left the girl's body. The frozen smile never changing.
"They can't all use her at once." Mario shook his head a little with the confusion of the situation. It was sometimes hard for him to grasp a thought in its entirety as Jason did. Sometimes hard to envision the results of Jason's intricately planned debaucheries. "They'll walk all over her ... and maybe even fight over her cunt."
"Uh hmmmmm, they might just do that, Mario." Jason agreed delightedly. His sparse hands had once again begun to slide up and down over his groin, palms flat down. Soon he would feel the wonderful awareness. Soon. "Get the dogs ready, Mario, and ... and hurry."
"You're sure you want all nine of them big brutes in here at once?" Mario questioned. He had never seen such a thing. Nine huge humping dogs around the helpless girl ... he began to feel the excitement of the thing ... yes, yes it would be exciting, wouldn't it? It would! "Yeah, yeah sure, boss. I'll go get the dogs ready. Right now!"
Mario hurried from the room. The electric door slid silently shut behind him and there was no sound in the room. Jason looked up at the ceiling, then at the walls. It had been a difficult job installing all the soundproofing but it had been worth the effort. It would have been impossible to call in a contractor for that little job. Impossible to explain the arena with its raised dais and the tie-rings, the circle of chairs, the lighting ... and the soundproofed walls. Yes, very hard to explain, so he and Mario and done the entire job themselves. It had taken nearly three months during the off-show season but it had paid for itself many times over. The dog buyers who came in the night, who watched the magnificent performances of his trained animals and their willing woman slaves, and then pleaded to buy Jason Benson's dog lovers at fantastic prices while their loins were still hot and hurting. A buyer who watched 'the King' at work always paid double the price of the one who bought sight unseen, and unidentified, through a mutual friend. Jason didn't care who bought his dogs, or how ridiculous their attempts at remaining anonymous ... his prices justified the inconvenience.
He settled his bare buttocks comfortably in one of the velour chairs, leaned on his hand, and continued to stare at the human work of art displayed upon the blue dais. This one would bring him much money ... she was small and delicate, fragile of coloring like an expensive china doll ... she would look great beneath the massive muscles of his big Danes ... fragile, helpless, young. Perhaps he would soften the lights even more when a buyer was here. It would hide the subtle age lines in her face, make her look even younger and more virginal. And when she became excited beneath the humping dog-they always, always did-his buyer would pay through the nose. She was the prettiest girl he had used yet. When his boys humped her for a customer, it would mean a thousand dollars a dog! Jason smiled. He rubbed his stomach, his legs, and pulled repeatedly on the stub of his slowly awakening penis. What was delaying that young whelp Mario? He could hear the faint pawing sounds of the dogs in the holding run.
Just then there was the soft whir of the opening door, the closing door, and Mario flopped himself unceremoniously into the adjoining seat. His meaty organ made a loud slapping sound against his leg, then rolled back between his thighs. Jason glared at the offending organ. How did it stay so hard all the time? It was disgusting, disgusting.
"All ready, boss." He grinned happily at Jason Benson. "Got all nine of 'em in the run just waiting. Shall I turn 'em loose on her????"
Jason glanced at the door that held the sniffing Danes at bay. He studied the silent still body on the platform before him. The girl still stared at the ceiling, her face utterly devoid of expression. He wondered if she had heard what they had said. Probably not, she was in the initial stages of light shock. Mental, not physical, he thought gratefully. She would still react to the dogs once they got her turned on and full of the hots.
"Yes, Mario," Jason nodded his head slowly, savoring the final minutes before her fall to the dogs. It was going to be an experiment beyond the magnitude of anything he had tried before. He couldn't wait to see how it would turn out. "Yes, Mario, press the button and release the dogs."
Mario scurried out of his seat and over to the control panel...." and then sit over there...." Jason indicated the far side of the area. He didn't want to have to see that swollen monstrosity of the boy's as it grew even fatter under the excitement of the dogs.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Mario pressed the third button on the panel and the metal door opposite slid up and out of sight into the panel above, leaving the way open. The nearest dog turned at the sound of the door opening, stared into the darkened room, sniffed at the doorway and then cautiously entered the room. Behind him another ... and another ... each sniffing and smelling their new surroundings, assuring themselves of its safety and its occupants. "Close the door, Mario."
There was an answering whir and then the shadowed figure of Mario crossing behind the lighted platform and seating himself in one of the chairs opposite Jason.
The dogs milled around, sniffing the chairs, the platform, each other. Several times soft growls met the sniffing muzzles but the dogs sensed something more important than canine squabbles. Then Diablo, a huge fawn male with a black mask and rippling muscles, sniffed at Carolyn's leg. Sniffed again. The scent of the woman bitch was familiar, the spread of the open legs triggering his well trained mind, and he sniffed his way up her leg to the pink slit of her body. His cold black nose poked into the curls and sniffed again. His sudden whimper brought the other dogs ... and they too smelled the familiar odor of the woman bitch they had licked and used to bury their cocks in. They pranced excitedly and licked themselves.
Jason leaned forward in his seat, mouth open, his eyes dilated with the excitement of this woman's impending punishment. His hands hung slack from the arm rests of his seat. His excitement so intense that he had even forgotten to stroke his slow-stirring organ. It lay quietly limp between his thighs.
Across the arena, Mario too leaned forward in his chair. He ran his wet pointed tongue over his dry lips, poked it in and out of his pursed mouth like a tiny penis, waiting, waiting ... waiting for the dogs to suddenly go wild with the scent of her parted crotch and all try to screw her at once. He watched the huge fawn lick experimentally at the furry lips of the girl's V, then lick at his own vitals. Mario could see the pink mottled head peeking from its low hanging sheath, the hard point breaking through its T-cut slit in the hairy pouch. Diablo licked a white drop from its tip and then returned his massive head to the girl's open thighs. There wasn't the usual welcoming pat of her hand against the hairy lips of her woman bitch's body but the familiar scent was there. He licked at the scented flesh experimentally. And again. He waited for the pat-pat of her hand between her legs to signal him that he should lick the delicious dampness. His natural instincts told him to mate but his long months of training had been too well learned. He whined and pawed at the carpet, ran his long hot tongue up the open crease of flesh and looked at the girl. He whirled again. She didn't move.
Mario wanted to encourage the big dog to lick her, to hump her silly, but Jason had warned him to remain absolutely silent. He looked across at Jason.
* * *
It was interesting, very interesting, Jason thought as he watched the intriguing scene unfold before his eager eyes. The dogs all sensed the bitch's readiness but their training held them back. Even Diablo who had the place of honor momentarily with his huge black muzzle almost buried in her open crotch. He could see the animal's fleshy pink and black organ jutting from the hanging sheath. He was excited, no doubt about that, only the long months of training were holding him back. One word from him and they would fall upon her like a fresh bitch in heat. Jason chewed on his lower lip. Should he shout out the key word? Should he set them loose upon her? ... or let time take its toll? Perhaps that would be better. He watched a second animal discover the source of the woman scent and try to push Diablo's great muzzle aside. There was an answering growl. The second dog pulled his head back a few inches, looked longingly at the pink hole with its tempting odors of bitchy heat, then begin to lick at the flat flesh of Carolyn's stomach.
Perhaps he shouldn't allow them to take their head, Jason thought. If they were allowed to work without cue, they might become unruly. Yes, they might. And that would never do. He had better do something before instinct became too strong.
"Mario," Jason called across the room. "Walk up slowly on the platform between the dogs and pat the bitch's cunt. They've all been trained to the same signal and won't act without it."
Mario got up and slowly walked up on the stage. He wasn't afraid of the dogs, even in uncontrolled groups like this, but any animal, including man, became hostile in time of heat. He watched the dogs milling around the platform, stepping over her still body, sniffing the woman scent of her flesh, her arms, her legs, lapping experimentally at her high pointed breasts.
"Easy. Easy, boy." he walked slowly among them, trying to angle his way to a position amidst their crowded area where he could safely kneel down and start the action. "Move over, Brutus. Move, I said. Easy, fella. No, Bravo, not me, ya damn fool. Easy, boy."
Jason watched uneasily. He hadn't thought about this when he planned this little experiment. He didn't want the boy to set them off. His big dong swinging around like that, specially if it still had the smell of cunt on it from yesterday, might just set them off.
"Slowly, Mario," Jason said curtly. "Move among them very slowly. Don't try to kneel down, just bend over and pat it a few times. That should be enough. Once Diablo starts, the others will follow his lead."
Mario didn't look up. He was doing the best he could. Several of the dogs sniffed at his cock and licked at it. He pushed them away gently. Not now, ya cocksuckin' bastards, he muttered softly under his breath. There, now, he should he able to reach her fuzzy little pussy. He stretched from the waist.
"Here, Diablo, here boy." He patted the hairy mound invitingly. "Get it, boy lick it. LICK IT."
He continued to pat and the dog sniffed his hand and began to make long slow swipes with his tongue right on cue.
"Good boy, good boy." Mario started to rise up, then, "Ooohh! Stop that, ya queer mutt."
He was tempted to stay in the bent over position for a moment longer. Bravo's rough tongue had snaked into his buttocks crack and he felt the answering thrill of his flesh. But this was not the time ... not yet ... he didn't want to miss a minute of the show that was about to take place. And take place right over him if he didn't get the hell out of there. The dogs had seen the signal, seen Diablo licking at the girl, and smelled the scent of her tongue-pressured loins. They were clustering around the licking dog, pushing their muzzles in, sticking their long eager tongues into the slit if the opportunity presented itself.
Mario eased his way through the crowded maze of huge dogs and breathed an audible sigh of relief when he was safely back in his seat. It wasn't that he was afraid of the dogs-they wouldn't hurt him, or anyone else, deliberately-it was just that Great Danes weigh from 150 to 180 pounds each and when nine sex-hungry animals of that size get crowding around a fella, well somebody could bloody well get squashed. He leaned back in his seat, wriggled himself comfortable and fastened his hungry eyes on the scene before him. Jesus H. Jehosaphat, it was gonna be a real gasser.
Diablo had begun the long steady rhythm with his tongue that meant business. His dogpecker hung at parade rest and in mid-air beneath his sleek stomach. Diablo had been sheath-cut as a young pup and the normal weight of penis was enough to pull it down. Now, with the growing weight of his blood-gorging cock, it was a truly sensual sight to behold. The hairy outer sheath hung down about four inches, and from its T-slit opening hung another four inches of thick dogpecker. Its pointed tip held tenaciously to a white drop of liquid which rocked and jiggled as he licked at the girl. And the whole thing was rigid to the point of holding itself straight and firm.
Jason's eyes slid over Diablo's enviable equipment. Even the dogs were better hung than he was, Jason thought with resentment. Perhaps when he was as youthful as the dog ... but that had been too many rich widows and too many hard years ago, he could not remember. Nor did he want to remember. Anything! That Jason Benson was dead and buried beneath a thousand awful memories. A new Jason Benson had grown from the ashes-with the help of a sizable inheritance from his late wife who, he was certain, died of old age though she insisted to the bitter end that she was forty-four, may the Devil fuck her!-a new Jason Benson who needed no one and took his pleasures where he found them. Or arranged them, he chuckled lewdly to himself, watching the undulating mass of animal flesh beyond.
* * *
Diablo had settled himself firmly between Carolyn's open thighs, his wide heavy muzzle pressing the furry pink lips apart so his thick tongue could make long slow passes the width and length of the pink blossom between her legs. A huge black Dane with thick heavy legs and an enormous sheath half squatted over the girl's left side, alternately licking at the pink-titted mound of her breast and spreading his haunches to lick at the dark head of his wet penis as it slid in and out of its fat sheath. Sometimes he would halt the licking to make a few quick humping slams into her side, then lick the tender hard point of his organ again.
A great fawn beast licked at her hip and down her left leg, sniffing and licking and enjoying the faint bitch's scent of her. A fourth dog, a huge brindle-coated stud, nudged at the dog between her legs and tried to force him aside. Sometimes in his anxiety, he would straddle Diablo's broad fawn back and jab his hard pointed prick into his vulnerable hide. Diablo would raise his head and snap at the offender or sometimes just give him a warning growl and the brindle would cease his pummeling and try for another entry into the sweet-heat smell of the willing bitch they shared.
Three more dogs jostled each other to get to the woman on the floor, pushing and shoving, walking to the other side to try for a better vantage point. Another sat on his haunches and whined and watched. Still another tried to straddle the girl's still body and share the warm cunt with Diablo. His heavy paws missed their footing now and again and left red scratches across the tender white flesh of her sides. Diablo had licked the surface until it flowed with the warm wetness which meant it was time to mount and quickly he hunched his great muscled haunches over her open hole. The big beast who straddled the girl licked at the top of her damp split, almost colliding at times with the long pointed spear of the hunching Diablo. Two, three, four, five times he jabbed at the little bitch's hole and then the hard pointed penis buried its warm head in the woman's body and he threw his full weight behind his humps. Hard, hard, hard, he slammed into her body, spurred on by the excitement of the other dogs.
The girl moved beneath him. Jason looked carefully between the maze of constantly moving legs and tails and hanging cocks. Yes, she was moving. She was coming out of the mental lethargy, her own hungry cunt was calling her home as he knew it would. There was a soft moan of pleasure, the ugh, ugh, ugh of the body slams into her soft flesh, and then the long hmmmms of pleasure as her willing body answered the dog's call of the wild. Jason could see flashes of her face rolling from side to side as the dogs moved and pranced in their own excitement. Several dogs tried to push the humping Diablo aside but he was firmly set on his haunches. Their eager muzzles pressed between his hunching body and the girl's open cunt, trying to lick up the warm woman smell. Diablo tried to throw his cock into the bitch's hole, but the massive heads of his companions wouldn't allow him to get quite close enough to hang up ... and then it was over for Diablo. He pulled off the girl's gesturing body and began licking his leaking organ.
The huge brindle stud and the big black tussled for the vacancy between Carolyn's tight stretched legs. A quick snarling fight began. They rolled over one another, snapping and growling, off the edge of the raised platform. Jason cracked them firmly with the steel hard whip handle, hitting both dogs across their nose bridge until they broke up and returned to the writhing mass of dogs on the stage. But it was too late, an enormous fawn Dane was already hard-humping at the girl's open crotch and she was moaning out her pleasure.
"Yes ... oh yes ... go, boy, go!" Carolyn's rolling pleasure was unmistakable, the thrill of the mass attack, nine rough hard tongues ravaging her body, a fat cock in her hole, tongues licking at her everywhere. Somebody was humping over her outstretched arm. She could feel the warm hairy sheath sliding back and forth on her arm and the wetness of the hard pointed organ against her bare skin. Another jabbed hard at her right side. She could hear the canine quarreling over her hot throbbing cunt. She felt the scratch of heavy paws as one dog pushed another aside and took his place with a fresh hard dogpecker stabbing between her legs. She knew her body would be a mangled mass of red bloody scratches from their heavy paws. She felt the hot cum of another dog running off her heaving sides. And another. There were endless tongues licking at the exciting smell of her, licking at the dribbles upon her skin and becoming excited in turn like an endless merry-go-round of cum-lick-cum. She felt the beginning dog knot ripping at her entry, felt another muzzle licking at it and at her, forcing the dogknot to give up its burden of warm wet fluid and back away to be licked and cleaned and worked into shape again. Another dog took his place at her loins and began to pump his heavy headed organ into her. His fat firm sheath worked its way into her hole, the short stiff hairs scratching her insides into sheer ecstasy. She wondered if the pink organ was extending on into her depths, on beyond the length of the fuzzy hard sheath, but she couldn't tell. The prickly surface of the dog hair was driving her wild. One orgasm followed upon the heels of the first until they seemed to blend into one continual burst of unendurable pleasure. It was awful! It was wonderful!
And Carolyn screamed. And screamed. And fainted.
* * *
The door to the arena was open. Carolyn turned toward the sound of loud voices and running feet ... and moaned with pain. She tried to move her arms experimentally. At first she thought she was still fastened to the platform but she could see her right wrist and it was free. The open shackle lay on the carpet several inches away. She tried to move her legs and the pain was excruciating. She wasn't fastened down. It took several moments before she could shake her mind free of the misty pain and realize what was happening. She lay breathing heavily and trying not to move. It hurt to move. She listened to the sound of metal cage doors slamming and voices urging the dogs. It was a hurried frantic kind of noise.
"Here, boy!" she could recognize Mario's excited nasal tones. "Hurry up, damn ya."
"Take this one too." It was Jason's high pitch of excitement. "You'll have to put two in a cage or we'll never get all the trained dogs out of here in time."
Carolyn heard two more cage doors slam, then the whir of the outer door and the scratch of paws upon the tile getting farther away. She shook her head. What was going on? What was happening? She tried to get up. The pain between her ravaged thighs was almost unbearable. She felt wet and sticky all over. And she smelled. Smelled of dog urine and semen and sweat. And she ached all over. Finally she made it to her feet and, still naked, she stumbled across the raised dais and up the narrow aisle to the door.
The lab was in an uproar. Paper was all over the floor, some of the cages were empty and the doors left ajar, the registry book was piled on top of a box of mixed and wrinkled papers and Jason was struggling through the outer door with it, strewing papers as he went. Carolyn leaned weakly against the door to steady herself. She could see the van backed up to the door, its built-in cages crammed with barking dogs. Several cardboard boxes were stacked in the aisle. Mario and Jason were gesturing wildly to each other outside the door. She couldn't hear what they were saying because of the din the excited dogs were making. She watched Jason pointing vigorously toward the front of the house, saw Mario shrug his shoulders and move off at a hurried gait. Jason came back into the shambles of the once immaculate lab area.
"Jason," Carolyn said weakly, but he didn't seem to hear her. "JASON!"
He turned toward her with empty haunted eyes, blankly as if responding to the familiar sound of his name but not really aware of his surroundings.
"JASON, what's going on? What happened?" she yelled at him.
"Gotta get out of here, gotta go now, gotta get the dogs where it's safe," and he turned and scurried off across the room to fumble with the combination lock of the next cage. The big Dane within sensed his confusion, knew something was wrong, and pranced and whined.
Mario came through the electric door from the front office with a set of books, pedigree records Carolyn recognized, in his arms. He plopped them down on the cage next to Jason and hurried back to the big refrigerator where several hundred pounds of fresh meat was kept at all times. He hurriedly began to pile great chunks of frozen meat into the boxes.
Carolyn forced herself across the room to where Mario packed the meat. He was wearing only his slacks, no shirt.
"Mario, what in the world is going on? What happened? Where are you going with the dogs?"
"Oh, you're back with us. Good. You can help. Here," he shoved an empty box into her arms "Here, pack this up with the frozen stuff and HURRY."
"Mario, WHAT HAPPENED?" She grabbed his bare arm and shook him.
"Okay, okay, don't tear the merchandise, baby," he answered impatiently. "While you was having yourself a fuckin' ball in there, the boss got a hot call. Seems somebody's in the hospital with his prick bit off. Got t'beating up one of the dogs and the dog bit back. Serves the bloody queer right well and good, too! He's the one we sold the big brindle stud to a couple weeks after you first come, remember? The one who said he liked to beat his women and see 'em bawl 'fore he could get his rocks off? Well, the boss told him not to beat the dog, told him plain and clear, he did. I heard him. Anyways, this queer prick got to beatin' on some broad that the dog was used to screwin' regular like and seems the dog was sorta attached to her, ya know, and he didn't like the guy whipping her. So he growled at him and got between him and the girl. The guy started whippin' the dog and the dog bit 'em. Bloody well serves him right if ya ask me!"
Mario shrugged his bare shoulders as if done with the subject and returned to packing the big chunks of meat in the box.
"So what's that got to do with us? And why are you two tearing up the place like this?" Carolyn didn't quite understand. Perhaps, she thought, she was still groggy from the frantic session with the dogs. She couldn't seem to focus her mind clearly on anything yet.
"So he bit his goddam cock off, that's so what!" Mario answered impatiently. "And he's being a prick about it. He squealed on us. Said he bought the dog from somebody right here in New York ... and then he fainted before he could hang it on us. He's still out, far as we know."
"But how did Jason find out about it?" she was still confused.
"Well, there's this broad at the hospital, see. She was one of the nurses in the emergency room er somethin' and she's a pretty hoary old bitch. Ugly as sin and twice as broad. Got a hole in her the size of the Holland Tunnel. Well, she's got the hots all the time and she bought one of the boss's dogs a couple years ago. She's real hinkie over that dog, ya know, got a real fuckin' hang up on him. She overheard the guy spouting off and guessed it was one a' Jason's dogs so when the guy fainted and they got through sewing his prick up ... what was his prick ... she sneaked out and gave Jason a hurry-up call to blow the joint. Soon as the guy comes out of the anesthetic the doc's gonna find out about it and call the cops. Seems there's a law or somethin' about dog bites. Ya gotta report 'em all to the police or somethin'. I don't know. Well, it's gonna cause all kinds of a stink and they'll haul in the boss and shoot all his dogs. Seems there's a law against that too, f'christ sake!" Carolyn frowned and shook her head. Her mind was still muddy. She had been through a lot and she was still hurting inside, hurting bad, and not thinking too clear. She sat down on the stool and tried to think things out. What about her? If Jason took the dogs and left, what would she do? Would they leave her behind? Alone? Free? WOULD SHE BE FREE TO GO?
The thought was like lightning in her cloudy mind. Radiant and brilliant ... and suddenly her thoughts were crystal clear. Yes, Jason was so concerned with the dogs that she could easily slip away! Mario might notice her absence but Jason would be frantic over the possible death of his beloved dogs-he would never notice. If she could get away from Mario's anxious eyes for ten minutes, just ten minutes without arousing suspicion, she could be out of this madhouse and gone! She looked at Mario. What could she do about him? Just then he noticed she was just sitting there and he scowled.
"F'god sake, ya lazy broad, get off your naked ass and help me pack up this meat. We gotta get out of here ... or do ya really want to end up in the hoosey for ten years?" She stared at him. That was it! Her naked ass!
"But I'm cold! I don't have any clothes on and that meat's frozen and it's cold!" she complained loudly, wrapping her arms across her body and faking a shiver.
"Well, f'Jesus Christ on a crutch, can't ya put some clothes on, stupid?" He shouted at her. "Ya can't think of nothin' when yer tits are hanging out. Goddam women. Maybe Jason's right about women! Go put yer clothes on!!!"
Carolyn slid off her stool and managed to growl a reply at him.
"Alright! You don't have to be so nasty about it!"
She turned and hurried out of the door and up the hallway toward her room. When she heard the whir of the automatic electric lock click the door shut behind her, she leaned against the wall and laughed hysterically for a moment. She made it! Mario had practically handed her the key to freedom! But she had to hurry. They might miss her in a few minutes. In five minutes she had to be out of this house of horrors and well on her way. She took a deep breath and ran down the long hall to her room.
She wouldn't need much. A suit, something neat and proper that wouldn't attract anyone's attention. Her purse and make-up ... and THE MONEY! It wasn't much, not as much as she had planned to take when she left, but it would be enough. It would be enough to buy a bus ticket, to buy a one-way ticket out of hell. She stuffed the money so carefully hidden in the back of the television set into her open purse and clicked it shut. The blue knit suit was in the closet. She had to hurry, HURRY!
CHAPTER TWELVE
"Tamarack," Carolyn enunciated as clearly as possible for the ticket agent. "Tamarack, West Virginia. It's just a little place, just below Charlestown about twenty or thirty miles."
The ticket agent ran a stubby finger down the list of stops on his bus schedule, flipped over the page and ran down a second line of numbers.
"Oh yeah, here it is. Tamarack, West Virginia. Well, if you take the next bus-that's at 7:30 tomorrow morning-you will get in there about 4:30 tomorrow afternoon. It's not a regular stop, you understand, but the driver will let you off if you ask him to."
"Isn't there a bus tonight?" Carolyn asked hopefully. "I sure don't want to sit in the depot all night."
"Sorry, lady," the fat little man answered, "only one bus going that way a'tall. It's only a secondary highway, you know, t'ain't no high speed toll road. It's 7:30 tomorrow or nothing. Less you want to take the plane into Charlestown and then a bus out of there maybe?"
"No," she frowned, "No, I'll wait for the bus. Thank you anyway."
"Yes ma'am."
Carolyn turned abruptly and bumped into the man standing behind her, apologized without looking up, and went into the Ladies Lounge.
A few minutes later, she pushed her way through the squeaking door of the women's room and walked slowly into the lobby of the half-deserted bus depot once more. Well, it was going to be a long night. She had better find a restaurant before she settled in for the night. It had been hours since she had eaten-not since early morning before Jason and the dogs and the opportunity for escape-and she was feeling a little queasy in her stomach. She wondered fleetingly if it was from lack of food or the let down after her flight to freedom. Whatever it was, she could sure do without it. She walked over to the cigarette counter. A tall attractive man in a business suit walked up beside her. Together they waited for the clerk to finish the word on his crossword puzzle and notice them.
"Oh," he finally realized he was not alone, "Can I help you, mister?"
"The lady was first." He smiled at Carolyn and touched his hat. She smiled back.
"I only wanted to ask if there was a restaurant near here that might be open this time of night?" She was looking at the counter man but her mind was on the handsome stranger. How pleasant to meet a man without a dog by his side, she thought bitterly, a man who isn't interested in your sex.
"I was going to ask the same thing," the handsome man laughed. He turned to the clerk and smiled. "Maybe you should be selling sandwiches instead of cigarettes."
"Matter o'fact I do," came his monotoned reply and he reached beneath the counter and came up with a pair of mangled sandwiches. "Lessee, I got one boloney with mustard and one salami 'n cheese. I make 'em up myself at home."
The tall man looked at the sandwiches then at Carolyn and smiled as if they shared a big secret. He put his hand on her elbow and turned her away from the counter.
"I do thank you," he chuckled, "but what we really had in mind was something more along the order of a nice medium rare steak. Isn't that right?"
Carolyn was caught up in his ready smile and nodded in agreement. "Is there some place...???"
"Well now," the clerk sat back down on his stool and picked up the crossword puzzle, "There's always the Pickwick Hotel down the street if ya don't mind paying fancy hotel prices??"
"Thank you." He turned to Carolyn and guided her toward the door, his firm hand still on her arm. "You will let me take you to dinner, won't you? Somehow I can't envision a lovely girl like you eating salami and cheese."
"Well, I really don't know ... I'm just waiting for my bus change," Carolyn was reluctant. After all, he was an absolute stranger...." and we haven't been properly introduced?" He smiled. "Something like that," she smiled back.
"It's really quite proper, you know," he said frowning with exaggerated concern. "We've run into each other before."
"We have?"
"Of course! Don't you remember ... you stepped on my toe at the ticket counter, Miss Tamarack West Virginia."
"Oh, that was you. I'm sorry. I just didn't notice who it was." Carolyn laughed an apology. "I really am sorry, you know."
"If you're really sorry, then you must let me take you to dinner to prove it."
"I'm afraid I don't look much like going out to dinner anywhere," she apologized. "You see, I left ... where I was ... in rather a hurry and I didn't take time to pack a bag or anything. This is all I have and, well, I don't look very presentable."
"You look charming!" He smiled down at her.
Yes, he had noticed that she had no luggage. That was why he had followed her to the counter, why he had invited her to dinner. This was a central transfer point for all major bus lines out of New York City. There were many pretty girls who arrived on the New York bus without luggage, down on their luck and usually pretty hungry. Pretty girls who left their small home towns with stars in their eyes and their brags of success still ringing in their ears ... Pretty girls who came home eventually when all else failed, tired, hungry and broke. But still pretty....
It was the desperate pretty girls who were easy prey for Paul J. Price. "Just long enough to get enough money to go home in style." That's how he always put it to them. "At a hundred dollars a night, honey, you can go home like a Queen!"
Carolyn Vance didn't care about going home a queen. She didn't even care about going home. Tamarack, West Virginia, wasn't her home. It was only a small town with a pretty name on a map. She had done a childish thing-closed her eyes and pointed blindly at a spot on a map. And the spot had been Tamarack. She had only wanted to go somewhere, anywhere, where no one knew her. She wanted to start over fresh and clean and smelling of Chantilly instead of dog.
But most of all, Carolyn wanted to learn to make love to a man ... to many men, perhaps ... not to dogs.
Mr. Paul J Price, for all his continental manner and experience, was surprised when the pretty girl he had met but moments before answered his proposition to become a high-priced prostitute with a simple chaste "all right."
But then Mr. Price didn't know about dogs....
Or why it was so vitally important for her to know about men....
* * *
"You're very generous," Carolyn smiled at the balding conventioneer, and tucked the folded bills into her bra.
"Think nothing of it, honey, when Henry Pippen's in town, the sky's the limit! How about a little nightcap, baby?" His pudgy fingers poked at her ribs and Carolyn winced. "We been having us a time for over an hour. I'll just bet you could use a little 100 proof courage. Bet you don't run into many men my age who can keep a pretty young girl like you busy for an hour, huh? Huh?"
Carolyn smiled and lowered her eyes naively. No, she thought and fought to keep from yawning openly, not many, not more than fifteen or twenty a week ... and most of them make love just as poorly as you. She opened the door and leaned against the sill.
"Not tonight, Mr. Pippen." She declined as gracefully as possible. "I'm awfully tired. Perhaps next time you're in town, hmmmm?"
"Sure thing, little girl." He reached into his inside coat pocket and handed her a business card. "You ever get down my way now, you give me a call, ya hear?"
Carolyn nodded and smiled ... and closed the door on him. She leaned her back against the door and sighed, slowly tearing the business card into small even pieces. They fell to the floor in a flutter of white cardboard snow.
Another dismal failure. Her guts felt like they were spread out in a frying pan. There was the same old burning sensation in her loins, it never seemed to go away any more. She leaned her head back against the door and closed her eyes. How many had it been? Fifty, seventy-five? A hundred? At least. A hundred male bodies had paid their money and poked at her with a hundred eager cocks. A penis paradise for an insatiable female! Only it wasn't paradise. It was hell! 'Cause it never worked for her. A hundred strangers pumped her full of semen and were satisfied ... and still she ached. She had nearly three thousand dollars in the bank now. It represented three months on her back and it was enough to put her back on her feet again. She would tell him right now.
Carolyn walked to the rumpled bed and sat down by the telephone. Slowly, carefully, she dialed the private number of Paul Price. It rang, then rang a second time.
"Hello, Price here," came the deep masculine tone. "It's me, Paul ... Carolyn."
"Through already, doll? Good!" his voice said he was pleased. "I've got another bunch from the Convention that should be good for a real bundle, kid. I'll send 'em up."
"No," Carolyn said firmly. "No, don't send them up. I'm through, Paul. I'm going home."
"What'dya mean, kid?" He growled over the phone. "You can't stand me up with a goddam Convention in town."
"I'm not standing you up, Paul." She was trying to be patient, but patience weighed a lot on your shoulders when you were dead tired. "I told you when I started this thing that it was only for a little while. I had to prove something to myself. Or maybe it was un-prove something. I'm not quite sure. But I know when I've had enough. I'm going home."
"To Tamany or wherever it was?" he said with disgust. "You won't be satisfied in a hick town, Carolyn, you won't even be able to have a good screw without the neighbors talking about it! How you gonna satisfy that hot mouse of yours in a hick town like Tamany?"
"Tamarack," Carolyn said, "And I don't expect to satisfy it, if its any business of yours. I haven't been satisfied in months! Not once in months! I'm sick and tired of coming up with somebody else's kicks, Paul. I'm getting out. I'll leave your money in an envelope with the clerk downstairs ... and I'm catching the next bus out. Good bye, Paul."
She laid the phone back in the cradle quickly before she could hear his crackling objections. It was over and done with. She would call the bus depot and find out when the next bus went to Tamarack. She ran her fingers across her aching stomach, scratched gently in the tangled mass of curls and massaged the hungry button in her wet crotch. She wondered fleetingly how the dogs were. Had they gotten safely away? Was someone taking care of them, exercising them, enjoying them? Eyes closed, she worried the needy flesh of her loins and remembered how it had felt to have one of the big Danes between her legs ... his thick rough tongue rubbing life into her, endlessly, tirelessly, until she couldn't stand it any longer and grabbed his harness and pulled him hard into her kneading hole where he would hump her into orgasm after orgasm ... and leave her weak and satisfied. Satisfied. Oh god, how she wished she could be satisfied that way again! How she would sleep!
The brassy ring of the telephone shattered her memories.
She reached over for the phone listlessly, sighed and answered its impatient jangle. "Hello?"
"Don't hang up, kid. I just want to talk to you a minute."
"What is it, Paul?" she sighed into the phone.
"Answer me honestly now. I've done alright by you, haven't I, kid? I did what I said I'd do for you I sent you lots of guys, clean guys, guys with money to pay the tab. Right?"
"Yes."
"Then how about doing me fair? How about turning just one more trick tonight, kid? Just one more before you leave. I'm in a real bind. I promised these guys a real looker ... and you know how the word gets around. If I don't come up with something special, the word will get out that I don't have a good stable and it'll kill me for the rest of the conventions this year. Maybe even next year. How about it, kid? Come on, huh? Please?"
Carolyn took the phone down from her ear, stared into the mouthpiece as if she could see Paul J. Price with his feigned hurt look, and shook her head. She returned the receiver to her ear in time to hear the last of his impassioned plea. " ... won't ask you again, I promise!"
She sighed. What was one more, really? It didn't matter.
"Alright, Paul. One more. One more and I'll hold you to your word."
"Thanks, kid," she could hear the relief in his voice. "I'll tell 'em to come on over. Five minutes okay? Fifteen?"
"Make it fifteen, I need a shower," and then she remembered his exact words 'tell them to come over'...."aaaa ... wait a minute ... did you say 'them'?"
"Yeah ... aaa ... that's what I said. You know how Conventioneers are? Ha, ha, anything for a laugh?"
"What's with the 'them' business?" she pinned him down.
"Well, you know how it is. I got a call for a little group action. Three guys is all it is, just three. Probably reading a dirty book between meetings and it gave 'em ideas. They want to gang-bang a pretty girl. You know, watch each other do it to her. Nothing to it, kid. Just lay there and collect three times the fee."
Carolyn listened to his playdown of the facts. She smiled to herself. Paul was scared she wasn't going to go along with the gang bit. Let him worry, damn him, would do him good.
"Oh, I don't know about that...." she purposely let her voice trail off. Let him sweat.
Three at a time. It might be fun. It had been fun with the dogs! Hot, hotter and begging! She ran her finger across the little button box again and felt its answering twinge. Maybe that's why she hadn't made it with all those men in the past three months. Because they didn't last as long as the dogs. Maybe that was the trouble. Three men working her one after the other, or even all at once, might turn the trick. She had always had at least three, maybe four dogs in each training session and by the last one she was hotter than french fried nuts. She smiled wishfully. Never say die. She'd give it one more chance.
"Come on, baby?" Paul was still pleading on the phone. "They're real nice Joes, good looking too. Why, you'll have a real blast. How about it, kid?"
"Welllll, alright, Paul ... but just for you." She purred at him, then made a face into the phone. "And just this one last time. You understand that part of it."
"Sure, kid, sure." He agreed readily. "Any thing you say. I'll send 'em over in about fifteen minutes, okay?"
"Okay." She agreed. " ... and Paul ... goodbye!"
"So long, kid. Have fun in your hick town. Screw all those farmer boys silly."
Carolyn replaced the telephone on the cradle. He just didn't understand. No one understood. And what was worse, she couldn't explain it. Not even to herself. How do you explain to a civilized socialized square-cornered world that you can only seem to cum under a dog? You don't! Your guts ache and you grit your teeth and pretend it doesn't matter ... while the rest of the world screw themselves sideways with their fellow man.
Carolyn got up slowly and straightened up the bed, smoothing the sheets and plumping up the pillows. She took the folded bills from her bra and tucked them under the pile of lacy brassieres in the second drawer, then hurried into the little bathroom and turned on the shower. After the last rollicking romeo who graced her bed, she really needed a hot shower. Henry Pippen could sweat like a pig. She tucked her long hair into the shower cap and stepped in. Hmmmmmm, it felt good.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ten minutes later, a pretty young girl was stretched out on the bed on her stomach casually flipping the pages of Glamour magazine. She was shaved, showered and foo-foo'd ... and bare ass naked. It always got things off to a fast start when a customer walked into a room smelling of faintly sexy perfume and found a nude woman already on the bed. Psychological, perhaps, but it was like 'instant hard-on' and it always worked. Especially if her clothes were hung up out of sight and the room was free of clutter and coverings. Just a big wall-to-wall bed ... and a bare body in the middle of it. Good business. A guy was hard put to get his pants off before the size of his dong got stuck in the zipper. It was a subtle production line technique. It netted her nearly twice the profit in a night as her fellow workers who opened the door chastely wrapped in a robe. After all, she was in it for profit, not pleasure. She smiled to herself and chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. Tonight, perhaps, there would be a little pleasure too. She sure hoped so. It had been so long. She turned a page, then another and another, and then she saw it. The magazine advertisement ... 'some people do everything in a big way' it said ... a lovely blonde girl stood before the big new model Cadillac, one hand on the car door, the other resting on the shoulder saddle of a huge harlequin Dane ... 'big dog, big car, big savings' it said in great glaring print 'why not have the very best?' Carolyn looked at the ad with a look of gentle longing. It was a magnificent animal, a truly fine male.
When the soft knock sounded at her hotel room door, the voice from within brought raised eyebrows and leering smiles to the faces of the three men who stood there.
"Come in...." a honeyed voice purred from within, "Come innnn ... the door's open."
There was a fumbling at the knob and three tall rather embarrassed looking faces peered down at her naked body on the bed. Languidly, Carolyn rolled over on her back and looked straight up into three pair of surprised wide eyes, one knee bent and waving gently over her body. She waited till they closed the door.
"Hellloooo," she whispered hoarsely up at them.
"Aaa ... aaa ... hello." One of the men stammered "Aaa ... I'm Bill ... and that's Harry ... and that's, that's??? What's his name?" he whispered to Harry.
"Hello what's-his-name!" Carolyn looked up at him with deliberately wide innocent eyes. It was hard not to smile when the man gulped noisily and nodded his head. "Aaa ... what can we call you?" the first man said.
Carolyn turned her head to stare up into his red face.
"You can call me ... in time for seconds ... all around!" She purred in the much practiced professional voice which had put $3,000 in the bank for her in the past months. She stretched luxuriously, spreading her naked body into a wide ivory-bodies X upon the deep red bedspread. "Jesus!" someone said reverently.
Carolyn crooked her finger suggestively at the nearest man, the tall older man they referred to as Harry, and patted the bed beside her.
"Aren't you sort of uncomfortable with all those clothes on ... Harry???" she purred again. "I'll just bet you all look better without them."
She let her eyes roam between the three men, starting on their surprised faces and sliding suggestively down over their padded shoulders to the virtuously zipped flies of their dark blue suits, pausing a moment to stare at the growing bulges, to purse her full lips and lick them with her tongue. Slowly. The men seemed frozen to the floor. Good grief, she thought, real country bumpkins. She'd take care of that. She stretched once more, then let one hand slide down over her flat stomach and play with the dark curls of her crotch.
"I wish you'd all hurrrry...." she sighed and let her middle finger slide in and out between the hairy lips.
Clothes began to fly. She heard the sound of one, no two, buttons ripped from the cloth and rattle across the floor. She watched the spider-veined arms appear out of shirt sleeves, flabby muscles shake in their hurry, skinny legs and knobby knees, fat soft stomachs and hairy flopping balls. Carolyn watched without expression. They were a far cry from the lean hard-muscled animals with their sleek well-groomed coats and their bright honest eyes. Suddenly she was surrounded by white sunless buttocks and grasping hands, and she closed her eyes and opened her mouth to the slack lips and probing cigar-tasting tongues.
"Beautiful tits," she heard a voice say and felt a squeezing hand and a hot wet mouth.
"Hey, d'ja see this? She shaves!" and a callused working man's hand rubbed hard across the inner lips of her tender flesh. "She's got hair out where it shows ... and she shaves between her legs! Isn't that a crazy idea?"
"You know what that means, don't ya?" Another male voice chuckled in response. "That means she's one of the ones that likes it all the way. You know, french!"
"You mean she likes to ... to...."
"Yeah, ya dumb bastard. She'll even let ya eat it!"
"Jesus!"
Carolyn felt the hot breath on her legs first. Even with her eyes closed, she could follow his faltering progress on his virgin trip into the interior. He was on his knees at the end of the bed, she could tell, and he had very gently pressed her legs apart and was poking experimentally at the parted lips. She deliberately snapped them at him, and was instantly rewarded by a gasp as he sucked in his breath. She felt the hot breath come closer and closer. Spreading her legs as far as her position would allow, she waited for the wonderful feel of a warm tongue between her legs. There was a light brush of his lips and he pulled away. What in the hell, she thought, oh please don't let him quit already. She moaned softly and wriggled her hips invitingly. There was no other way to ask for it, one of the men had buried his thick tongue in her mouth and the other was licking all over her breasts. Her arms were pinned beneath them. She couldn't say anything or reach out and pull his face between her legs. She wriggled the hairy little hole again.
There was a harsh groan from the vicinity of her parted legs and the feel of his five o'clock shadow rubbing hard against the tender flesh. His short stiff tongue made quick exploring stabs into her hole. Ohhhh it did feel good. Not so good as the long hot thick tongues of the Danes who used to lick her from anus to button. But it felt good.
She began to suck on the probing tongue in her mouth. It tasted of stale tobacco and bourbon but it was stiff and it was eager and responded instantly to her sucking invitation. It buried itself deeper into her welcoming mouth, making crude wet sounds as he gasped occasionally for air, groaning when she sucked hard and moved her puckered mouth up and down over it like a working penis in her feathery hole.
The man at her breasts had stopped kissing them and was watching his friend's extended tongue screwing in and out of the prostitute's sucking mouth. God, it made him hot! He looked down at the man between her open legs and watched him bury his face in her wet crotch and come up damp and shiny from her hot cunt. Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! He never knew anything like this went on. Leastwise he never took part in it before ... or watched it right before his eyes. His own hot cock was throbbing so he thought it would burst. He wanted to shove it in her paid-for pussy but it was full of mouth. His friend's stiff tongue was still screwing the other end. God. He was gonna bust, sure as billy hell. He looked desperately at her rolling body, and the big breasts which rolled and pitched with their own full weight. Suddenly he raised up to his knees and straddled her body, burying his aching rod between the fat breasts, holding them tight together with his hands and began to thrust into them. The head of his fat penis peered out the other side of her compressed boobs and pointed straight at her face. In and out it went, back and forth between the firm heavy globes. It wasn't wet like a woman's cunt but it was exciting. Exciting. He watched the man's tongue still pummeling her mouth, watched her cheeks suck in and pull at it. He watched the man's swinging prick as it rocked between his knees. He turned his head as far as he could and saw that the pussy eater had raised to his knees and was skinning back his hard cock ready to throw it to her.
She knew it had begun. After a hundred cocks in heat, she knew all the symptoms. She could feel the jarring rhythm of the man squatting over her breasts and the leaking warning that spewed forth in small droplets on her white skin. It was too late for him to stop now, he would spill out his sperm and waste it ... and she had not begun to cum.
Now the man at her thighs began the regular pumping which meant the beginning of the end. So soon? She cried silently. Not so soon! She began a frantic thrusting of her own heated pelvis. Maybe she could make it before it was too late ... but the desperate heaving of her body against his was like a fuse to his ramming penis and he came in short, jabbing, jerking movements, filling her with the evidence of his own satisfaction but leaving her brimful of need. No, she thought. No! No! No! She tried to pull her mouth away from the hot tongue of the excited man who kneeled beside her. He thought she was trying to get away from him because she was nearing the point of orgasm ... and he had done this to a professional prostitute with only his tongue. How exciting! Too exciting, he felt the beginning rush of hot semen in his dangling balls, racing up the heavy vein beneath his short fat penis and there it was, jerking its wet wonders out on to the girl's arm pinned between his legs and on the red bedspread. Christ, he thought, what a waste of money. He'd have to pay the broad fifty bucks each for the three of them and all he got was a bedspread fuck while she frenched his tongue. Damn bitch probably did it on purpose. She probably got him hot so he'd do it that way and she wouldn't have to clean up afterwards. Christ. Fifty bucks apiece. He looked at his friend and saw his sperm running in slow trails across the woman's chest. He'd got screwed out of any cunt too. The other guy, what's-his-name from Charing, Oklahoma, was squatting over her hairy twat, and looking sorta embarrassed and silly about it. Well, maybe he got a little tail but that was probably only cause she was so busy fuckin' the two of them out of their just desserts. Christ, he repeated out loud, Christ.
He eased back off the girl's arm, careful not to smear up his own legs with the cum that wet the spread. He looked down at her in disgust. She lay still, breathing hard, her face turned to the wall. She looked almost like she might be ready to cry or something. What'd she have to bawl about? He was the one who got screwed out of a hundred and fifty bucks cold cash. He could'a jacked off on the John and still had the hundred and fifty. Christ. He pulled his pants on and zipped up his fly angrily.
"Come on, you guys. Stick it back in your pants and let's get the hell out of this clip joint." He grumbled and watched the two men raise organs on the edge of the spread. He looked at his watch and shook his head. "Not quite twenty minutes. Can you imagine that? Not even twenty minutes and this fuckin' broad makes a hundred and fifty bucks for just laying there and making us do all the work. That's Atlantic City for ya. Next year I'm gonna insist they hold it in Hoboken like we said. Christ."
He pulled three fifty dollar bills from his money clip and slammed them on the bare dresser top.
"There ya are, chippy. A hundred and fifty smackeroos and you got three good screws to boot. What a racket!" he pulled open the door. "Come on, let's get the hell out of here. Why waste any more time on her?"
Carolyn didn't move. She didn't open her eyes or move away from the thick white puddles of semen that ran down her sides and made wet spots on the dark red spread. It had happened again. Nothing. Nothing. Three normal men had paid to have sex with her and she should have been excited and she should have cum and she should have ... should have ... she should have gone home to Tamarack on the early bus like she planned to do. It wasn't any use. It was her. There was something wrong with her.
She raised up and sat on the edge of the bed and her eyes fell upon the open magazine lying on the floor a few feet beyond where one of the men had thrown it. It was still open to the advertisement for the big new Cadillac Convertible ... and the picture of the big harlequin Dane. Carolyn stared at the picture for several minutes. A single tear welled in her eye, slipped over the brim and made a wet train down over her tender tit with its teeth marks and blood burns.
* * *
"Where'd you say you lived, Miss?" the man behind the long counter asked curiously. "The old Martindale place?"
"Yes, I believe that was the name the real estate man said would be on the escrow papers, Martindale or something like that." She smiled up at him.
"Hmmmm," he shook his head dubiously. "Kind of a lonely old place for a pretty young lady like you, seems to me."
Carolyn smiled tolerantly. Tamarack was a friendly town, and a curious one as well, but then most small towns were. It was all part of being friendly.
"Will that be cash or check, Miss?" he asked when no further information was forthcoming. "Cash." Carolyn answered quietly, counting out the bills. "Four, five, six hundred dollars and ... what did you say was the tax? Three dollars? Six hundred and three dollars. There you are. You can just mail the pedigrees to me when they're ready."
She picked up the two heavy choke chain collars and walked over to the viewing runs.
"Oh, we'll have them delivered to you, Miss. Just-as soon as the Missus gets back from Charlestown with the big station wagon." The kennel man said anxiously. "They're pretty big animals, even if they are pups. Must weigh all of eighty, maybe even a hundred pounds each! You just don't know how big them Great Danes get, little lady. You couldn't handle them all by yourself." Carolyn smiled.
"I forgot to tell you, Mr. Norris," she smiled up at him. "I'm a professional dog trainer. I have a great deal of ... of experience ... with Great Danes."
"You?" the kennel man said incredulously, "A pretty little thing like you train Great Danes???" Carolyn nodded.
"But ... but you're so small and delicate like," he stammered, finding it hard to believe, "Aren't you afraid of them?"
"Mr. Norris," Carolyn smiled a little sadly, "I'd be afraid to try and get along without them."
She walked back to the runs, slipped the gate hasp and swung it wide open. As the first playful pup jostled his way through the opening, Carolyn slid the heavy choke chain about his neck and pulled him down firmly on his haunches. He looked up at her with surprise. She walked up close before him, pressed his massive head against her legs and scratched him behind the ears.
"Good boy. Sit! Sit!" She smiled down at the inquisitive big eyes and pressed his head hard against her legs again. He sniffed, and let his head remain against her tight capri pants. "Good boy. I think I'll call you Monarch."
Holding Monarch's chain securely in one hand, she moved to the other run and released the gate catch. A moment later, another huge beast rested against her leg and lowered his head between her legs to have his ears scratched.
"Samson," she said slowly. "You are built like a Samson, strong and handsome and virile. I shall call you Samson."
She scratched his ears for a moment longer, then Monarch's, then pulled them both up sharply by the chains and led them to the front door. She paused to wave goodbye to Mr. Norris and both dogs settled on their haunches at her sides, pressing their massive heads against her capri-clad legs.
"I never seen nothing like it!" Mr. Nortis drawled softly. "Why, them two big brutes is already a'following you about like they was a couple of courting swains. Jest never seen nothing like it! Isn't that real nice, now, that they're so devoted to a pretty little thing like you. And so soon too."
"Yes ... isn't it?"
Carolyn smiled, a little sadly, and led her charges through the door and out into the crisp fresh sunlight of a Tamarack spring morning.
Yes, she thought as she walked down the long shady lane, yes, isn't it nice that they're so devoted? And so soon, too.
