======== Path: news.primenet.com!nntp.primenet.com!news.asu.edu!ennfs.eas.asu.edu!cs.utexas.edu!math.ohio-state.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!in1.uu.net!news.ios.com!ppp-11.ts-3.la.idt.net!user From: grobert@soho.ios.com (TheEditor) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: Breeders (1/9) "The Breeders" Date: Fri, 19 Apr 1996 08:01:47 -0700 Organization: Internet Online Services Lines: 565 Message-ID: <grobert-1904960801470001@ppp-11.ts-3.la.idt.net> NNTP-Posting-Host: ppp-11.ts-3.la.idt.net Xref: news.primenet.com alt.sex.stories:146988 The Breeders Chapter 1 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 corner. 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 corners 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 2 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." "A11 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 3 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