From: weasel@wolf.u-net.com (The Weasel) Newsgroups: alt.sex.bestiality Subject: Crisis Point - 1 (f/dog - no sex) Date: Tue, 22 Oct 1996 19:05:09 GMT Crisis Point Chapter One Cold Feet This is supposed to be the happiest day of my life. Isn't it? Then why am I cowering in my bed, afraid to get up, afraid even to glance out from under the covers? Any minute now, my family's going to come and wake me up. They'll be all excited and happy for me, and they won't even noticed the dark rings around my eyes, where I haven't had a wink of sleep for over forty eight hours. Even if they do, they'll prattle on about wedding day nerves, and it'll all be part of the fun for them. They'll be so taken up with the practical details - make-up, checking the dress, making sure that the catering's sorted out, chasing up the order from the florist - that they won't even notice me. I'll just ride along with the tide, and then it'll happen. I'll be married, and it'll be too late. Could it just be cold feet? Last minute nerves? I just don't know any more. Six weeks ago, if anybody had asked, I would have said I was the luckiest girl alive. Ian's a fabulous guy. He's got everything - looks, personality, shared interests, sense of humour. He's far more than I ever hoped for. God, I should be happy... why aren't I? The truth is, every time I look at Ian, I see Todd. I can't get him out of my mind any more. I've never felt anything like what's between the two of us. When Todd looks at me, it's like there's electric passing along the line of our vision. We don't even have to talk to each other - we already understand each other perfectly - it's like telepathy. When we sit next to each other, I swear I get turned on. In fact, I've even stopped cuddling him for any length of time now, because I come so damned close to orgasm when I do. Just running my fingers through that thick, velvety fur... Cathy! Listen to what you're saying! You're talking about Todd as if he's a human, and he's just a dog. Just a dog - I wish that's all there was to it... There. The worst's out now. I've tried not even to admit it to myself. For the past six weeks, these feelings for Todd have been growing, and I haven't even had the courage to face them. The problem is, it's been so easy to ride the wave of my family's happiness, and Ian's expectations. Each day, the situation got a little worse, but only a little. I suppose I kept thinking, "I coped yesterday, I can manage today as well." Now it's come to the crunch, though. There's nowhere else to hide, and the demons are right on my tail. If I pretend to myself today, there's the chance that I'll spend the rest of my life pretending to myself. Maybe I'll feel better once the ceremony's over, and I've made the commitment. After all, it's the first real decision I've made in my life. It's only natural that I should be worried about it. Worried enough to have strange ways of escaping from my responsibilities. Todd's just a fantasy, a form of tension release. That's all there is to it. Okay. I've decided. I'll go through with the marriage. I'll have a great day, and we're going to have a wonderful life together. Shit! Why don't I feel any better? I've made my choice, so how come my stomach is wringing itself into knots? You know why, you fool! It's because you can't face the fact that you'll be spending the rest of your life with a man that's only second best. Great one, Cath. Why don't you just go and tell him that, then? Excuse me, Ian. I can't marry you today, because you're only second on my list. Oh, don't worry, it's not another man. Actually, it's a German Shepherd, so that's all right then. Think he'll understand? Yeah, no problem. Actually, I don't think anyone will understand. I don't think *I* understand. What sort of a monster does this make me? Hell, I'm thinking of giving up everything, just for the chance to screw a dog. No - it's more than that. Todd's not just a dog, he's - I mean, he *is* a dog, but... oh lord, I can't even explain it to myself! I want more than sex from him. But he's a dog. He can't give any more than sex. People aren't supposed to love animals - not like this, anyway. They're not capable of understanding that sort of emotion. And yet, sometimes it seems... I wish I'd never taken the job at the canine rescue league now. I *really* wish that Todd had never turned up. But then again, I don't know which would be worse. I've got myself into a terrible situation because of him. I know that. Still, I think it would be far more terrible if I'd carried on living without ever having met him. I wouldn't have even *known* what I was missing, and yet the thought of enduring that option cuts me up inside. I suppose, if I married Ian, I could persuade him to adopt Todd, and we could keep him around. That way I could have both... NO! That would be totally unfair on Ian, and I'd never stop feeling guilty about it. Besides, if I did that, I'd end up doing something I regretted with the dog, and I just *can't* do that. I mean, I can't help the way I feel, but it would be completely wrong to act on those feelings. I'm a human being, not an animal. The trouble is, if I don't opt for both, I get neither. Ian's place is his own, and we could take on a dog there, but I live in a flat. No animals. So, it's either both or neither. I don't want to have to choose. I know what I *should* be choosing, and it isn't what I want. But it *is* the easy option. All I have to do is nothing, and the right choice will be made for me. Hell! That's my mum now. I've told her I'll be down in a few minutes. What do I do? What do I do? Cathy, you've got to sort yourself out! Face some difficult questions. No, there's only one question to face. Can you go through life married to this man? Yes or no? Tears aren't going to solve anything. Pull yourself together and think! Yes or no? When you reduce it to that level of simplicity, there's only one path to travel. I've known the answer right from the start, but it's going to be so difficult. I've got to tell him. From: weasel@wolf.u-net.com (The Weasel) Newsgroups: alt.sex.bestiality Subject: Crisis Point - 2 (f/dog - no sex) Date: Tue, 22 Oct 1996 19:05:14 GMT Chapter Two Cold Nose I've got to go home soon. Home - what a laugh! If home is where the heart is, then I'm already here. This is pathetic. I'm sitting in the cellar of the canine rescue centre at 2a.m. with only bare walls and a single light-bulb for company. Oh, and Todd. He licks at my tears, and then he lets me hold him and bury my face in his perfect, warm fur. His coat is getting wet, but he doesn't seem to mind. If it hadn't been for him in the past couple of weeks, I think I'd have killed myself. I don't know if he realises how much I need him, but he lets me hug him, and he doesn't turn me away, and sometimes that's enough. So I hug him: And tremble with passion And think of forbidden temptations And flush with guilt And cringe with self-loathing And cry. I couldn't tell Ian on the day. Not the full story. Oh, of course I told him that the wedding was off. I said I wasn't ready, I said it would be a mistake to go through with it. But, when it came to the crunch, I couldn't deal the final blow. I just ran away and sat in a seedy pub all day, drinking myself into oblivion. He called around the next day. He was angry - very angry - and hurt. It was only natural that he would want to know the real reasons for me messing up his life in such a big way. The stupid thing is, when I finally *did* confess to him, he wouldn't believe me. He told me that I could at least have come up with a convincing lie, if I wasn't prepared to tell him the truth. We both said some more things - things that I regret now. I suppose he didn't mean them all, either. When he finally left, he still didn't understand. I *did* try, but the words got tangled up in my mind. I don't blame him for not believing me - after all, it sounds like madness. I love Todd, and I love him more than the man I was going to marry. I'm going mad, I know I am. No normal human feels like this. Given how he took the news, I wish I hadn't told him now. If he spreads the word, then my life is going to be over. My bosses are hardly going to keep on letting me look after dogs if they think I want to fuck them all. They certainly won't be able to understand how I can love a dog *and* want to have sex with it. Even *I* don't understand that bit! As for my family - oh god, they already think I've gone a bit strange. If they find out what I told Ian, I'll never be able to face them again. For that matter, they'd never want to see me again. I'm so alone. And empty. I'm lost in my confusion, and there's only Todd left to guide me. My mum and sister keep calling round to the flat, to check up on me. They want me to talk about what's upset me so much. I wish I could. My thoughts are too big to be trapped inside just my mind. I *need* to talk to someone, to try and make sense of this whole muddle, but nobody would understand. That's why I'm in the rescue building, breaking all the work rules, hiding out. If I go back to the flat, I'm forced to face anxious people, ringing me up, calling around, demanding explanations that I can't give. Plus, I can't keep away from Todd any more. He's like an obsession with me. My world only comes into focus when he's lying by my side. I think he enjoys my company too. When I sneaked back here, at ten o'clock, I could hear his tail thumping from the front door. When I got to his run, he nearly broke through the door, he was so anxious to greet me. In fact, once I'd let him out, he made so much noise, whimpering and jumping up at me, that I was terrified of being discovered. He's been like that for the past seven nights. I come back after it's dark, and I get my regular 'fix' of him. Even that's going to end soon. Margaret Brookes has decided to keep him. She's the manager here, and she runs everything, so if she says she wants the dog, she gets him. It's better that than the other alternative, anyway. If Todd hadn't been housed within six months, he would have faced being put down. At least he's still alive this way, even if I never see him again. So, why can't I feel happier about it? Because I'm selfish, that's why. I was selfish enough to ruin Ian's life because of a half-baked fantasy, and now I'm selfish enough to put the dog into danger, just because I want to see him for another couple of months. It's just that, when he's not around here any more, I can't think of a single thing that'll make me want to go on living. And, once I run out of excuses for going through another day, I may just take the simplest way out. Painkillers and sleeping tablets are relatively easy to get hold of. At least I'll end the suffering that way. What was that? I heard something. Todd did too. His ears are perked up, and his eyes have that intent, faraway look. It's probably nothing to worry about. After all, he isn't growling. Oshitoshitoshit! That was the front door. Somebody's here. The dogs have heard it too. They're raising quite a commotion up there. Not enough, though. None of them have barked yet. I wish they would! They might scare whoever it is away. Who could it be? A burglar? In a pet rescue centre? We're a charity, not a business. There'd be no point, no profit. Perhaps somebody saw me come in, or has heard me since. They could have called for the police. No, don't be stupid, Cathy. You haven't made enough noise for that, and you've been here for four hours. That's too slow, even for the police. Oh no! The footsteps are coming towards the cellar door. They *must* know that someone's here. I should never have put the light on. Better to sit in the dark than to lose my job, or get arrested. At least I don't have to worry about getting attacked. Todd would protect me. They're opening the door. Shit! They're coming in! Oh my god, it's Margaret Brookes. What the hell is *she* doing here at this hour? We're staring at each other, and I'm wondering who's going to break the silence first. My tongue has stuck to the roof of my mouth, and I couldn't say a word if my life depended on it. Perhaps it does, at that. As our gaze is locked together, I have realised something. She knows. I don't know how, but she's worked out how I feel about Todd. I can see it in her expression. Subject: Crisis Point - 3 (f/dog - no sex) From: weasel@wolf.u-net.com (The Weasel) Date: 1996/10/22 Newsgroups: alt.sex.bestiality Chapter three Warm Fur I can hardly believe it. There's just too much to take in all at once. As I lie here, warm and safe in bed, the past month seems to be fading into the surrealism of a nightmare, and I'm waking up from it at last. Todd's lying beside me, gentle and contented as only a dog can truly ever be. His ears twitch occasionally, and his lips blow open in a simulated bark as he begins to dream. Maybe I should be sleeping too, but I can't seem to tear my gaze away from the beautiful dog beside me. I won't wake him up, though. Let him carry on chasing rabbits in his dreams - he might even catch them for once. Even as his closeness, his raw sexuality stirs my heart, I still mar the purity of feeling by adding a touch of guilt. That's going to take some time to disappear, if it ever does. At least I can see a route through my pain now, even if the path's too long and hard to travel all at once. I'm not alone. I'M NOT ALONE! No, it still hasn't sunk in. I thought I was some monster, a creature to be feared or perhaps pitied. Funny how I *never* considered that there could be other people like me in the world. I thought I was unique. It's laughable really, when I look back on it, but I can barely even raise a smile. The memories are still too painful. Maybe one day... When Margaret - I must get used to calling her Meg - turned up at the shop, I was scared shitless, but in a way I was relieved too. Whatever she said, however much she despised and condemned me, she would have taken on part of the responsibility for the problem. I wouldn't have to handle it all alone any more. I think, with the way I was feeling, that even prison or exile from the community would have been better than trying to live with my secret. Funny, that. I never *once* imagined that her response would be understanding. For the past few months, I've been going along, thinking that I was hiding my true self from everyone. I thought I'd done a good job of it, or at least an adequate one. And yet Meg saw straight through the pretence. I suppose if you know what you're looking for, the signs are easy enough to spot. The way that I'd hardly look at Todd, the constant tiredness and unhappiness, the fact that I called my wedding off. Apart from that, I forgot to reset the shop alarm one night, so there were practical, solid clues as well. Still, it would take a rare person to work out the whole picture from such minuscule scraps of evidence. A person like Meg, for example. A zoo... like me. God, it feels so good to have a name for what I've been going through. I don't know why, it makes no logical sense, but somehow, I don't feel so dirty any more. I'm just one of a group of people, not a single aberration. It makes me feel like perhaps I'm not evil, just different. That's what Meg told me. Not at first, of course. Neither of us said much at first. She just asked me to come back upstairs to the staff tea-room, so that we could have a talk. Then she made us both a cup of tea and asked me what was going on. I was so scared by then that I started to gabble out a string of lies and nonsense. It would have served me right if she'd left me to it. I'm glad she didn't, though. She just looked at me, calmly, and said: "You don't have to lie, Cathy. Not to me." That was it. The one little push that sent my house of cards toppling down to the ground. I broke down and told her everything. I was past caring what she thought - I just had to get the words out. The bad feelings had been festering inside me, and it was an incredible relief just to hear myself admitting to them. I must have talked for over an hour. I suppose I drank the tea that she made, but I don't remember. There were just words, tumbling out uncontrollably, frothing into a sea of confusion and self-hate. She never interrupted, just let me babble, and all the while she watched me with sympathy and compassion in her eyes. I kept waiting for her to start hating me, but she didn't. By the time that I'd run out of things to say, I could hardly keep my eyes open. My body was tingling and numb, giving out stronger and stronger hints that it needed some rest. Meg just took charge at this point. She took me back to her house, with Todd, and showed me to her spare bedroom. The bed had already been made, as if she were expecting this to happen. I suppose she was... It was a funny feeling, waking up in a strange room the next day. It was the middle of the day, and Todd was lying on the bed, taking up three quarters of the space in that lovably selfish way of his. My first reaction was surprise, and then there was a sudden burst of guilt, as I realised that I had missed half a day of work. When I finally remembered who's house I was in though, that's when the tidal waves of emotion hit me: Horror that I had confessed the darkest secrets within me Deep, cringing embarrassment at having to face Meg again Stark terror at the imagined punishments that the future held Terrible sadness that Todd and I would almost certainly be separated Despair, bitterness, anger, guilt, pain, pain, pain. I don't know what I would have done if Meg hadn't entered the room at this point. Probably run as far and as fast as I could, to wherever my feet took me. I still shudder when I think that I could have spent my whole life running away from the truth... She did, though. It was incredible to me that she still wanted to know me after she had taken the time to think about what I had said. I could hardly look at her, and all the words had dried up as I faced her for the second time. It didn't matter. This time, it was her turn to talk. She told me that I wasn't alone. That there were many people, just like me. Including herself. I gawped like a teenager looking at his first dirty magazine when she told me that she had a sexual relationship with all three of her dogs. Despite myself, I felt another flood of guilt and shame with her admission. I still do, but it's less now. I started to cry again when she told me that having this sort of love for a dog wasn't wrong, only different. In between sobs, I asked her why it felt so wrong, if it was so natural. Meg sighed at that one, and her face was sorrowful and troubled. She went on to explain, and she put some of my own unadmitted thoughts into words. Another part of me was out in the open, and my heart lightened a little more. There was a lot of talk about it, but it wasn't so much what she said as the way it made me feel. As the discussion went on, there were questions raised in my mind: Do you love Todd? Yes. Does he love you? Yes - in a way - I don't know - I think so, yes. Would he protect you from harm? I think so. Would he ever hurt you, intentionally? No! Would you ever hurt him? Never! Would you ever force him to do something that would cause him harm? How can you even ask? I love him. Then, given that you're not hurting him, and he's not hurting you, why do you insist that loving him is wrong? I... I don't know. I just feel... it must be wrong, mustn't it? Why? You're living, feeling, consenting beings, enjoying each other. Is that wrong? No, but... Don't echo what others have told you, Cathy. Think for yourself. Is it wrong? I can't answer that question yet. Logic tells me one thing, emotion and the rest of the world tells me another. Different, but not evil. If I keep telling myself that often enough, I might even come to believe it. I've been staying with Meg for nearly two weeks now, while I get myself sorted out. Next week, Todd and I move out into our new place. Look at him - so sweet and peaceful. I wish I were a dog, able to take in the world with such simplicity and acceptance. I still can't bring myself to relax into full sexual contact with him. But I can hug him, and love him, and feel the closeness of his body with mine. All of that comes with barely any of the bad feelings. And I have a feeling that one day, we're going to get closer than that. Much closer...