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From: "Dream Spinner" <authorsix@hotmail.com>
Subject: ST: At Their Mercy - 06 (m, b, bestiality, mind control)
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Warning Welcome from Masters Jay, Tyler and Billie: If you been
reading these stories then you know it's about us three boys, ages 9
to 11, having hypnotized a forty-four-year-old man and making the old
fart obey us. You also know if you got any ideas of stuff we can do
you can send them to the above address and we'll sure act out your
fantasy or fav pastime. In this Part ol'man Wallace is our new pet
dog, and does, well, what doggies do in the park. It that offends you
then you better wait for Part 7, but if you are like reader M**c who
sent us some kewel ideas including this one, then here is a great
story we're calling "Our New Pet"
At Their Mercy - Part 6
I am a man of routine and orderliness. I know at the office they
joke that they can set their clocks by me, and they joke that I
probably even have the paper clips arranged in my drawer by colour and
the spices in the spice rack at home alphabetically. That people can
predict what I will do and when I will do it is something I am proud
of. To me that is being dependable and organized, although I know to
others they think that means being boring. Yes, I do get upset if
things are out of order, or not as they should be, or if things happen
that interrupt my routines. It is an inconvenience and an
inconsideration of my time. That is my nature, and after forty-four
years, that is not going to change.
My working life is just an extension of my personal life, or maybe
it is the other way around. I follow the same practices of routine
and orderliness at home as I do at the office. I do my major shopping
regularly once every two weeks, the Saturday morning after each
payday. As soon as I return home, I check the purchases with the till
receipts. It is surprising how often the checkout clerks make errors.
I suppose it is because people in those jobs aren't the most
intelligent. If they were, they wouldn't be doing that sort of work.
Anyway, after checking the receipts, I put the purchases away, each in
its own spot. Of course I don't organize my groceries alphabetically,
but I do put all the same category together, soups with soups,
vegetables with vegetables, and the like. I then sit down for a cup
of tea before making lunch. Routine and orderliness make for an
efficient life.
This Saturday morning was like any other payday Saturday morning,
but as I sat down for my pre-lunch tea, I had a problem. There was a
small collection of purchases left on the kitchen counter that I had
no place for. I stared at the two receipts again. From the grocery
store:
1 pkg Canine Chewy Outs
$1.89
2 cans Dog Food Combo
$2.58
2 cans Dog Food Chp Beef $1.98
2 cans Dog Food Chks Bf/gravy
$2.18
1 Rawhide Chew $3.99
>From the pet store I had bought:
1 Trak-60 leash
$22.99
1 Dog Collar $
2.99
1 Plastic Bowl $ 4.79
1 Rubber Ball $
3.19 Forty-six dollars and fifty-eight cents worth of purchases. The
problem was, I did not have a dog.
Of course by this time whenever something totally out of character
happened, I knew the source. Five and a half weeks had gone by now
since my child tormentors, the three denizens from hell, had chosen to
cross my life, all because I had crossed theirs and had phoned their
parents about them constantly cutting across my property on their way
home from school and stealing my apples from my tree.
These purchases had to be their doing. I could not figure out the
why behind this latest scheme of theirs, or rather, this latest scheme
from one of the wicked minds that has been reading my account of the
boys' weekly tortures. Perhaps this was purely innocent. Perhaps
they wanted a dog but not the responsibility of looking after it, so
found a solution in having the animal stay with me. Even if that was
all it was, I prayed not. I do not like animals. Actually I like
them even less than I like kids, and with my three tormentors, I was
disliking kids more and more each week. I keep my house immaculate,
and the idea of an animal with all its fur and smells and clutter and
bodily functions made my hair stand on end.
I have always been particular about my home and belongings, and
after the party the boys threw at my home three weeks ago just the
thought of anything happening sends me running for the Valium. Even
after three weeks, every time I make supper I cringe at the memory of
having to clean the mushy, stinking turd out from under the burner on
the stove.
Now if the boy's intention was not for me to keep a pet for them,
then I had no idea what to expect. I was confident that their plan
was much more than that though, and that it would be something
degrading and perverted. I did not have to wonder long. I was just
finishing my tea when the doorbell rang.
"Hi, Mr. Wallace," my three tormentors greeted as I opened the
door.
"Boys," I replied, less than enthusiastically. My three
tormentors glanced at each other. "Masters," I quickly corrected.
"That's fucking better," Master Jay commented, and the three
exchanged satisfied grins.
I was not under their hypnotic control and did not have to follow
their command to call them Master, and I certainly could reprimand Jay
for his language. Insolence and vulgarity in children are totally
unacceptable and intolerable, and I will never understand adults who
put up with it, especially parents. However, this was different. If
I reprimanded these boys, it would only worsen things between us, and
I certainly did not intend on antagonizing them.
"Kewel, you got all the stuff," Master Billie said, spotting the
items on the counter.
"Then we might as well get started. Strip down," ordered Master
Jay.
I stared at him. I knew to refuse would just mean that he would
put me under his control and then I would have to do it, but there was
no way I was going to obey that order willingly. Even though the
boys had not only seen me naked the past five times we had met, but
had watched me doing some very disgusting things while I was naked, I
was not going to willingly humiliate myself.
"Damn shithead. Now, fucking do it," Jay snapped.
Responding immediately to the posthypnotic cue, I reached for the
top button of my shirt as I felt myself again falling under his spell.
It was like falling down a long, dark shaft, dropping faster and
faster as my own mind was left at the top and all that remained was an
emptiness waiting for Jay to fill. It was not long before I was
standing before the boys stark naked. In the beginning they had been
keenly interested in my nudity, but by now it had become common place
for them.
"Go put on your jock strap."
I left to do as I had been told. How he knew I had one I did not
know, but I suspected he had either asked once when I'd been
hypnotized, or had simply been in my personal drawers in my bedroom.
I soon returned.
"Okay, now squat down and listen to this real close, shithead,"
Jay commanded, and I immediately squatted down. "You've been behaving
real good," he began, and I felt a flood of pride that I had been
successful in pleasing my master. Deeper down my mind was asking me
what the hell I was proud about, doing perverted things for a group of
spoiled, vulgar brats. "But you have to do it better and harder,
understand?"
"Yes, Master Jay."
"Like dude, we are your masters and you are a shitting
good-for-nothing slave. You gotta treat us like kings, like the most
important people in your miserable life, understand?"
"Yes, Master Jay," I repeated most subserviently.
"Okay, you remember that, even when you are not hypnotized, got
it?"
"Yes, Master Jay."
"It's sortta like how it's gonna be today. The three of us are
your masters, and you are our dog. You are a good dog, obedient as
hell. We tell you to do something and you wag your doggy tail and run
and do it. Got that?"
"Yes, Master Jay."
"Ya gotta be a dog, like totally dude. Ya gotta act like a dog,
think like a dog, bark like a dog, you are a dog, not a man, 'cept you
can understand our words. Ya got that shithead, you are a dog, a big
hairy dog that loves his three masters. If you understand, bark like
a dog."
"Rarff, rarff," I found myself saying and the boys cracked up with
laugher. To my dog mind that meant they liked what I had done.
"Rarff, raff, rarff," I repeated enthusiastically, eager to please my
masters, which made the boys laugh all the more.
"Okay, Poochy, that's a good boy," Jay said, patting me on the
head. "That's your name, Poochy, understand?"
"Rarff."
Getting the collar, Billie put it around my neck while Tyler
opened up the retractable leash and Jay gathered everything else up in
one of the plastic shopping bags. "Hey, where is the can opener?" he
asked, looking at me.
I opened my mouth, but I could not say the words. I tried again.
"Fucking far out, you really got him thinking he's a dog," giggled
Billie. "Go ahead boy, go over and show him where ol'Wallace keeps
the can opener."
I scooted over on my hands and knees to the right drawer and then
squatting down, I reached up and put my paws on it.
"That's a good doggie," said Billie, coming over and patting me on
the head.
"Ok, we're going to take you for a walk, Poochy, you like to go
for walks?"
"Rarff, rarff," I replied, grinning up at Jay.
"Being such a smart dog, you can walk on your hind two feet,
unless we say otherwise."
With that we headed out the door and down the street, me in just
my jock strap and with Billie holding my leash. We cut down the alley
and headed over to the small park along the ravine near my place.
There were several other kids there on the playground equipment, and a
few families. They gave us a curious look when we arrived but soon
ignored us. I knew they were all from the neighbourhood, and although
I knew I was a dog and felt like a dog, I knew deep down inside that
was not right. I wondered what they were thinking. It could have
been worse, the boys could have had me go naked. Of course that would
have been reported, and that would have ended their fun. As it was, I
was surprised nobody objected to what I was wearing.
The boys decided that I should have my lunch first, and selected
the chopped beef. It resembled canned corned beef in appearance and
consistency. They dumped it in my bowl and I got on hands and knees
to chow down. The taste was not totally unpleasant, although I saw
little resemblance to real beef. On the other hand, the odour and
knowing what it was made of made what I was doing revolting. As I bit
into the pasty lump, it was a strange combination of feelings. On
the one hand I was a dog and this was delicious, but also in the inner
recesses of my mind where the boys had been unable to reach, I knew
what was reality. With each bite my stomach objected, yet I eagerly
took another munch and even licked my bowl clean. Again Billie petted
me on the head for being such a good Poochie.
The boys then took me for a bit of a walk along the edge of the
park "in case I had to go poop". A man walking his lab approached
from the opposite direction with evidently the same idea. After the
dog did his business, he continued past us, giving me a look that was
both of bemusement and disapproval. He was evidently amused that I
would play this game of being the boys' dog with them, but also
critical of my choice of skimpy cover. As we continued on, I
instinctively obeyed my doggy impulse and got down on my hands and
knees and sniffed at the dog poop by the side of the path. Unable to
stop myself, I swatted above it and began to add my own. The boys
quickly huddled around me so the others in the park would not see, but
they could barely stand they were laughing so hard.
"Now that is a real good Poochie," said Billie as he patted my
head, and the boys giggled hysterically.
The boys released me from the leash and had me retrieve the ball
for a while. Even though I keep myself in shape by going to the gym
once a week, I wasn't up to chasing a rubber ball all afternoon, and I
was soon exhausted. They then decided to have me sit up and beg, and
to perform tricks, rolling over and playing dead, shaking my paw and
the like. Each time I was rewarded with a Canine Chewy Out, little
squares of beef-flavoured treats that were not that bad except for
knowing they were dog food. Again on one hand I was eager to perform
for my masters, for their praise and for the treats, but at the same
time I knew they were humiliating me.
By this time it was close to three and the others using the park
had left. A dog came by and the boys used the treats to coax the
animal over to us. They tried to get the two of us to play together,
but it did not work. I was under their control, not the other dog.
They were about to give up when another dog appeared, and seeing us,
headed over to join us. Of course one of the first things the two
animals did was check each other out. The boys had me get on my hands
and knees and do the same to the dogs. The dogs, one of them female
and the other male, tolerated me but did not return the action.
Again, the dog part of my mind saw nothing wrong with this but deeper
down I hated the boys for what they were making me do.
Another dog arrived and hot on its heels were two more. The one
animal was evidently a female, and evidently in heat from actions of
the other two dogs. They were joined by the other male dog and the
three chased the bitch around, each trying to mount her while the
other two tried to prevent the third from doing so. The boys were
much amused at the attempts of the dogs to mount the female.
"How come that other dog isn't trying to screw?" Billie asked me,
indicating the first dog that had arrived and that was now heading
down the ravine.
I looked up at him, unable to answer. I gave him a whimper.
"That's okay, you can talk to answer my questions," he said.
"The other dog is a female," I answered, my voice sounding strange
and my mind torn between the command to act totally like a dog and the
permission to speak like a human.
"Then how come the others aren't trying to screw her?"
"She must not be in heat."
"What's that mean?"
"When female dogs are ready to get pregnant, they give off a scent
that will tell the male dogs that they are ready for sex."
"Well, hey, you're a male dog, go get it," Billie said with a
grin.
I took that as a command and immediately headed over to the other
dogs. The dogs were not impressed with my interference, and let me
know with growls and bared teeth. I was unable to defend myself in
any other way than as another dog. I growling back and snapped my
teeth at them.
"Hey, Poochie, come back here," Billie called, seeing my problem.
"That's okay, boy," Tyler said patting me on the head. "We know
you like boy dogs better anyway."
The others
laughed.
"Hey, do boy dogs do boy dogs?" Billie asked me.
"No, not normally, although I have seen some so excited by the
heat from a female dog they have tried to have sex with a male dog."
"So guy dogs really get turned on by this scent thing?" Tyler
asked.
"Yes."
"That's why they sniff between the legs?" asked Jay.
"Yes."
"That's where this scent is?"
"Yes, from the female's vulva."
"What's that?"
"Her sex organ."
The three boys silently watched the three dogs competing with each
other for a minute.
"Sooooo," said Jay, drawing out the word. The way he said it and
the look in his eyes frightened me. "If a dog smells that scent it
tells him come screw me, right?"
"Yes."
The boys looked at each other, each evidently having the same
thought.
"Take off your underwear, Billie."
Billie quickly removed his pants and underwear and pulled his
pants back on. Taking his underwear and picking up some stones at the
edge of the ravine, the three boys approached the dogs. Chasing off
the males with the stones, they used the treats to coax the female
over to where I was. Opening up a can of dog food for her, she gave
them no objections as Billie rubbed his underwear between her legs.
The stimulation of her vulva caused her to produce even more of the
scent. Having me take off the jock, they rubbed it between her legs
too while she finished off the can of dog food.
As soon as the food was gone, the dog took off. The boys had me
put the jock back on and get on my hands and knees and Billie rubbed
his stained underwear along the crack between my ass cheeks and over
my asshole. He was still doing that when the three dogs they had
chased off returned looking for the bitch. They instead found me.
They immediately sniffed between my legs at the jock, and at my
asshole. One of them, a German Shepard, was convinced I was the real
thing and suddenly leaped on me, wrapping his legs about my waist with
a vice like grip and thrusting his lower body at my ass.
The boys hooted with excitement. "Atta boy Poochie, let him have
a good fuck," called out Billie.
The boys distracted the other two dogs with the treats while the
German Shepard shuffled up closer to my ass and continued to thrust
his body at me.
"He's really gonna do it."
"Look. Lookit his cock."
"Jeez. It's as red as a fire hydrant."
"I think it's gonna go in him."
"Fuck, lookit!"
I felt the dog's hard sticky-headed cock poking between my
asscheeks, trying to find the opening. It felt as hot as hell.
Obeying Master Billie's command, I opened up my sphincter and squirmed
to get in the right position. Finally feeling the tip of his hot cock
at my anus, I strained to open up and pushed my hips back. As soon as
the tip of his hot, red organ spread open my anus, the dog
instinctively lunged forward, probably thinking it was a vulva if a
dog can think. I inhaled deeply as I felt his long, slender cock
penetrate me. It was hot and slick, and he sank it all the way in
with one lunge.
The dog humped as only a dog knows how, with sharp rapid thrusts.
His hot breath panted against my back and his furry body grasped me
tightly as he humped between my legs. I could feel his drool dripping
on my body and running down around my ribs. The three boys were
sitting there in rapt attention, a look of amazement and of amusement
on their faces. It was a perverted amusement, the amusement of seeing
something dirty happening, and the amusement of seeing someone they
hated being humiliated and debased. This was the ultimate
humiliation, being subjected to the animal lust of a dog, being
screwed by a dog in a public park as if I was a dog myself. At least
there was nobody around to witness it.
Suddenly the dog tightened his grip about my waist and as his
slender dick throbbed he pressed his furry body tighter against my
rump. He was shooting his stuff up my ass. I was actually being
pumped full of hot, thick dog cum! The moment did not escape the boys
and they hooted and cheered even more. Satisfied, the dog withdrew
his cock and dismounted. Looking around over my shoulder, I saw his
cock, red and slick, still sticking out of the hairy encasing, a final
drop of dog cum still clinging to the opening.
The other two dogs were straining to get loose. The boys released
one of them, a Doberman. Like the German Shepard, he wasted no time
in mounting me. A couple quick sniffs to make sure, and he circled
behind and leaped on me. My asshole now slick with dog cumm, he had
less trouble penetrating me. The boys laughed and called out
encouragement as the animal began humping my ass. He thrust his cock
in and out rapidly, caring only for the release of his seed. I had to
brace myself to withstand the force and fury with which he was
humping. Once again the boys sat there and watched, thoroughly
enjoying my humiliation and debasement. The Doberman was soon pumping
its thick white seed up my asshole to join that deposited by the
German Shepard.
The last dog, a black lab, didn't mind that two others had
preceded him. He attacked my ass with just as much interest and fury
as the first two. I could do nothing but kneel there as the three
boys cheered and laughed and made dirty remarks about what a hot bitch
their Poochie was. The black lab certainly agreed, and he thrust his
cock in and out of my abused asshole with a frenzy, his drool
literally streaming out of his mouth and basting my back and ribs. He
too finally added his doggie cum to the two loads already up my hole.
I just counted my blessings that nobody else had come to the park
throughout it all.
The boys finally put my leash back on and returned me to my house.
Billie opened up a can of the chunks of beef with gravy as a reward
for my good behaviour, and as I stood there on my hands and knees in
the kitchen and ate, the boys got a snack themselves. They discussed
the day's events as they made peanut butter and jam sandwiches and
helped themselves to the Gatoraide in the refrigerator.
"You was real good today, Poochie," Billie said, coming over and
patting me on the head. "Did you like your afternoon with your
masters, Poochie?"
"Rwruff, rwuff," I replied.
"Bet you liked getting screwed the most, huh?" he asked
"Rwruff," I answered.
The three boys high fived and giggled.
"You can have my underwear to remember it by," Billie said. "You
can curl up with it tonight when you got to bed and smell that doggie
scent and remember how great it was."
The boys headed for the door. "Okay asshole, this has been fun,"
said Jay. With the cue word I felt myself starting to emerge from
that dark tunnel. "I'll be over for the story tomorrow. And by the
way, you might wanna know we got two more guys that have sent us
ideas. That's seven different guys that have sent us ideas so far.
Isn't that kewel?"
"Yes," I replied. "Cool."
"Not only that! We checked where they've been posting your
stories. The first chapter is sixth out of the top 20 this week! A
hundred-and-forty-one guys read it. Too bad they didn't all send in
ideas!"
The boys all giggled as they headed down the street. I showered
for over an hour, and even then I did not feel clean after what had
happened to me. At this moment my skin is covered with goose bumps
thinking about it, and even now I swear I can feel the dog cum up my
ass. I've finished the story, and I wonder if maybe this time the
boys have not gone too far. Surely once men read this one, they will
stop reading these stories and this nonsense will stop. Jay said
seven men have written them ideas, so I know that there has to be at
least two more encounters with my tormentors. I am thankful that not
everyone who reads these stories responds. It is bad enough knowing
that there are a hundred-and-forty-one men who have read about my
humiliation.
The only consolation I have is that things cannot possibly get
more humiliating or perverted than what the boys made me do today. Of
course, that is what I figured last week also. However, there is
nothing I can do about it, at least for now. It is late and I think I
will have a snack before I go to bed. I have this craving for a
warmed-up can of Ballard's beef and gravy, and then I think I'll curl
up with Billie's underwear and gnaw on my new rawhide chew for a
bit.--====================987654321_0==_ Content-Type: text/plain;
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