Newsgroups: alt.sex.bestiality
Subject: Not A Pet
From: hossie@irs.com (Hoss Topper)
Date: Sun, 20 Feb 94 20:43:00 -0600

		      Daddy's Horse Is Not A Pet
		      a multi-cultural textbook
				  by
			    Mark Matthews

	Sarah giggled. "Oh, there's that new kid! She's weird!"

	The Swingin' Sisters, the most "in" bunch of girls in Brian
Mulrooney Memorial Junior High, were gathered around her at the water
fountain. They turned and looked.

	"What do you mean?" asked Cindy. "She looks kind of cute to
me."

	Sarah sniffed. "It's her family. I heard she lives with her
mother and father - and they're married!"

	"Oh!" The rest of the group looked shocked.

	Cindy didn't want to give up so easily. "Look, that's just a
rumor, and a pretty awful one at that! How would you feel if someone
said that about you?"

	Sarah looked unhappy. "Not very good, I guess. And I know my
moms wouldn't like it!"

	"Nor would my dad and his room mate."

	"My momma'd stomp any sucker who said something like that
about me," said LaShonta, "and so would her boyfriends!"

	Cindy waved at the new girl in school.

	"What are you doing?" asked Sarah, shocked.

	"I'm going to find out for myself. If the rumors are true,
then maybe she really needs a friend. Come on! Let's be politically-
correct and pretend to like her, at least to start."

	The group quieted down as the newcomer shyly approached them.
Her blond head was bent a little as she looked nervously down at her
shoes. "Hi."

	Cindy reached out and put an arm around her shoulders. "I'm
Cindy. What's your name?"

	"Diane."

	"You're new here, aren't you?" A nod. "Well, what do you say
we all get together at the fast-food place across from the ball field
after school and get to know one another?"

	Diane's face brightened. "Sure! I'll treat you all to some
bean-curd burgers with rutabaga fries!"

	Cindy hugged her. "Sounds great. We'll see you then. Remember
to bring your bullet-proof vest and school-issued condoms."

	As soon as Diane disappeared down the hall, Sarah turned to
Cindy with a quizzical expression. "Why over there? We never hang out
in that place!"

	"Of course not. If she doesn't work out, do you want everyone
to see her with us? Our lives could be ruined!"

	Sarah nodded. "That makes sense."

				* * *

	The fine spring weather had drawn many pupils outside and away
from the gathering place, so Sarah and her coterie had no problem
finding a booth to themselves.

	"Where's Diane?"

	Cindy looked around. "There she is. I guess she had a little
trouble getting through the metal detector at the door."

	The new girl made it over to the booth and sat down.

	"Are you okay? Did the guard give you any hassle?"

	She shook her head. "No, she was just flirting with me."

	Sarah smiled. "She's cute, isn't she?"

	"Yeah, but a little too butch for my tastes with that
jockstrap she's wearing on the outside of her slacks."

	"What's wrong with that?" Sarah bristled.

	Diane blushed. "Oh, nothing! I mean, on you it looks cute, the
way it coordinates with your studded leather halter-top and latex
pedal- pushers. But it just makes the guard look old, like almost
thirty or something!"

	"Oh. It kind of makes her look like my mom."

	"Which one?" asked Cindy.

	"The one who held the turkey-baster; my dad/mom."

	"I never can keep them straight."

	"That's `cause they aren't. Straight, I mean. Who wants
straight?"

	The group nodded agreement.

	"That brings us to some important business, though." She
looked at Diane.

	The new girl rose from her seat. "Can it wait until we get
some food? I'm starved!"

	"Sure." "Yeah." "Sounds cool."

	While Diane went to the counter and pulled out her TeenCharge
card, the other girls huddled.

	"Did you see how she jumped when you said `straight?'"

	"Yeah, and commenting on the guard was pretty insensitive."

	Cindy stopped them with a look. "We haven't even given her a
chance, yet. Let's not be hasty; we agreed not to decide until
tomorrow morning before school."

	Diane returned with a tray reeking of nasty-but-animal-
sensitive vegetarian fare and placed it on the table. With bestial
growls the group attacked the ketchup-drenched tofu and roots.

	"Who wants salmonella shakes for dessert?" offered Cindy.

	"Let's lighten up with a little cocaine-cola instead,"
suggested LaShonta.

	"I can't," moaned 11-year-old Juana. "If I don't pass my drug
scans during pregnancy I lose my welfare bonus!"

	They settled on pickle-juice slushes instead; kosher for
Sarah.

	When they'd taken their first sips, Sarah looked at Diane once
more.

	"Look, you seem okay to me so far, but there've been rumors
going around about - "

	Diane burst into tears of shame, so moving the group that they
quit running and returned to their seats, albeit a bit further from
her than before. Cindy reached out and barely touched Diane's cheek.

	"C'mon. It can't be that bad! Is it?"

	Diane snuffled and looked up with stricken eyes. "Oh, it's
only my second day here at this school and already it's begun! I don't
know what you've heard, but honest! It isn't as bad as some people
seem to think it is."

	"Tell us about it, Diane, and let us judge you for ourselves.
What about those rumors?"

	"It depends on which ones you've heard, I guess."

	Sarah nodded and moved closer to Diane, now only one booth
away. "Well, first off, we heard your father and mother are still
married and living together. I guess that's the worst one."

	Diane looked shocked. "Oh, no! But - he does live with a
femme, my stepmother."

	LaShonta patted her cheek. "Heck, dat ain't so bad! how many
girlfriends does he have?"

	"Just Eeky."

	The girls frowned. Only one partner?

	Juana asked, "Well, does she turn tricks on the side? Does he
do something cool like deal dope or guns?"

	Diane's face fell. "No." It was barely whispered.

	"Look," said Cindy. "I've been sticking up for you here, but
there are limits. Tell me the truth. Are they married?"

	Diane couldn't speak. She only nodded.

	The girls moved away from her again. Diane looked at them, a
defiant expression on her face. "Dammit! Not everyone can have your
advantages! At least she isn't my birth mother or anything like that!
And it isn't Daddy's fault that he has to work an honest job! The
criminal market is pretty saturated now with that new "Three strikes
and you're out of jail" program the government started to cut down on
prison costs. He can't help being a top-level manager; he has to feed
our family somehow!"

	Sarah shook her head. "Sorry. Maybe you're not as hopeless as
the rumors said, but you still don't fit into our group. If we're
going to stay on top, we have to have our standards!"

	"He has a horse!"

	"Not good enough. Pets are stupid, anyway."

	Cindy lingered behind for a moment as the other girls filed
out, putting on their Kevlar coats before stepping outside into the
sporadic gunfire.

	"I tried, Diane, really I did. But you're just not good
enough."

	Diane's tears had dried up, replaced with a defiant
expression. "I'll show you! I'll show all of you! One of these days,
you'll respect my family!"

	She was left alone, finally, without even a leer from the
security guard. Evidently she'd heard some of the conversation and
wanted nothing further to do with the unfortunate Diane, either.

				* * *

	Sarah, Cindy, LaShonta, and Juana maintained their position as
"top gang" during the remainder of the school year and into the summer
vacation months. Diane could be seen now and then around the school,
walking through the halls with a defiant expression on her face and
two pistols hanging in brassiere holsters. Sometimes she would be in
the company of other losers, those with after-school jobs and nice
clothes, that pathetic group of kids with old-fashioned families.

	Meanwhile, Juana moved into even higher esteem when she
delivered triplets - a new school record for a twelve-year-old mother.
LaShonta was jealous of her trophy at first, but that turned to
excitement with the news that she was expecting her own baby; the two
girls could be found at all hours chattering about babies, pregnancy,
and the welfare system.

				* * *

	School opened in the fall with a bang. Fortunately, the damage
was limited to the faculty lounge, the nurse's station, and the
administrative offices. The athletic department was untouched, so the
school board decided there was no reason to delay the semester.

	The first week held the usual confusion as students found
their classrooms, teachers re-qualified on the target range, and the
cafeteria sorted out its year's stock of toxic waste. Gang territories
were clearly laid out amidst the usual hilarity when the youngest
members inadvertently found themselves on the wrong sides of the lines
and were tortured.

	Finally, as things settled into a semblance of normalcy and
the riot squads packed up their gear and returned to the armories, the
first special activities began with an announcement that there would
be a general assembly on Friday.

	The Swingin' Sisters had grown by one member, an Arabian girl
who proudly showed them all her "female circumcision." The others
agreed this was "way cool" and proved how tough Maryam was. The mini-
Uzi she carried in her swastika-marked purse helped that image. She
even offered to circumcise Sarah, but her mom/mom wouldn't let her
until she was at least sixteen.

	"That's a bummer, Sarah. Does she think you're still a child?"
Cindy was indignant.

	"I guess so. You know how old people are. Jeeze, it just takes
a razor blade, it's not like it'd cost anything! We could even sell
videos."

	LaShonta rubbed her barely-bulging belly and spoke up. "Hey, I
seen that Diane around again."

	Juana replied, "Huh. How's that loser doin'?"

	Cindy jumped in again. "Gee, she can't help it, can she? I
mean, we can't let her hang around us, but I guess somebody has to pay
taxes for the good folks to live on."

	Sarah was still mad at her mom, and didn't feel like taking
any arguments off of anyone. "Aw, who cares? The government pays, and
they print all the money. What's the difference?"

	Juana nodded and even Cindy agreed that Sarah had a point.

	LaShonta continued, "She looks awfully proud of herself since
that assembly was announced. She even said we'd change our tune after
Friday."

	The girls looked at each other in puzzlement. What could Diane
be up to? It would take something pretty far-out to overcome her bad
start the previous term.

	Sarah wasn't easily convinced. "We'll see. Be sure and bring
your Bobbit knives in case those damned Rape Kings try to sit next to
us again."

				* * *

	Gossip had spread about "something big" in the wind and the
student body was agog with excitement Friday morning. The teachers
wore smug smiles and the principal even appeared in a hallway until a
couple of shots convinced him of his folly and he withdrew to his
fortified office.

	Following lunch and the mid-day casualty report, the students
filed into the auditorium, each careful to use the proper entrance for
their religious, sexual, gang, or ethnic affiliation.

	When the complicated social "dance" had ended and all students
were seated, the curtains opened to reveal the Lexan- protected stage
with a podium sitting directly in front of the concrete access tunnel.
The principal stepped up to the microphone and motioned for silence.

	This was the signal for several of the rowdier students to
open up, throwing rotting fruit, vegetables, and the random bullet
stageward. The principal kept his hands raised, but nodded to the
crews of the water-cannons located in the orchestra pit.

	When the soggy crowd settled down, Principal Gorbachev began
to speak.

	"Students, teachers, fellow administrators: we face ever-
growing crises in education. I don't have to tell you that, despite a
four- hundred percent increase in spending over the last five years,
the government is still trying to starve our educational system to
death. They don't want us to succeed! Reactionary elements call for a
return to outmoded means of discipline, old, insensitive ways of
grading students based on performance, and teaching basic subjects
instead of trying to enlighten our youth about their heritage, their
traditions, and the reasons they can't possible succeed without
support."

	He paused while cheers echoed through the hall, then
continued:

	"Unfortunately, we must face reality. If they won't give us
what we need, we must make do with what we have. We must find new,
innovative ways of utilizing our up-scale down-effectiveness
socially-bankrupt budgets."

	He tugged on the collar of his red-and-white multi-cultural
gang jacket, adjusted his Malcolm X cap, and stamped to settle his
feet more comfortably into the patent-leather Nazi jackboots.

	"It has come to be a more and more common belief that many of
our troubles with violence stem from sexual frustration. Many young
men face enormous frustration when young girls refuse to cooperate
with them; many young girls find these young men leaving them
unsatisfied, finishing before they do. I won't even mention the
gay/lesbian difficulties with certain old-fashioned students insisting
that they not be approached by same-sex people. While everyone would
cooperate in a perfect world, this world won't be perfect - at least,
not as long as the government insists on strangling our efforts by
refusing reasonable increases in spending."

	The principal paused to wipe off a stream of spittle drooling
from one corner of his mouth. He bent forward, concealing his face
from the crowd. They could hear a couple of long, loud sniffing
sounds. When he straightened up, he seemed in somewhat better spirits.

	"Anyway, we can't solve all the problems of the world. We
can't do anything about the government-issue condoms - I know, I know,
either they break or feel like an inner-tube. We've gone as far as we
can with mugging classes, teaching you how to submit to robbery
without getting hurt much more than half the time. The problems with
mathematics won't go away until everyone is given their own computers
that play good-enough games you won't want to sell them the next day.
And there simply isn't any way to get more than twenty-four hours per
day per channel of music videos on cable."

	The students were hushed as they sensed a dramatic climax
approaching.

	"However, this summer we discovered we can take innovative
steps to help relieve the sexual tensions which are so overpowering in
young Americans. This will be the first test- school in what we hope
is a long line of educational institutions adopting a new program. We
are honored! And, better yet, this program came to our attention
through the efforts of one of our students; yes, one of you! Diane
Topper, please come forward!"

	The crowd was too surprised to attack as Diane, head held
high, made her way to the stage and was allowed behind the shields
after she'd checked her weapons at the gateway. The principal and
teachers began applauding as she took her place at the podium.

	"Many of you think you're hot stuff. You are. You're cool
kids, tuned in to the real world around us. You have neat families who
explore the boundaries of human experience, unburdened by the harsh
necessities of life. Many of you have your own children, children for
whom there is hope of an even better life, guided by your love and
concern and surrounded by the love of many brothers and sisters to
come. You don't let old superstitions or traditions hold you simply
because they've always been there. You are leaders!"

	The students went wild, cheering Diane, slapping each other on
the back. Some gang members even smiled at their rivals, knowing Diane
spoke the truth.

	When the noise abated, Diane continued. "However, not all that
is old is bad, ideas or people." The students growled a little at
this. "Listen to me! There are good things hidden in the past, things
that the true old-time oppressors kept hidden, things we can and must
discover!

	"Many of you who know me think that I'm a loser, growing up in
a hide-bound traditional environment just because my father is married
to a person of the opposite sex and they stay true to each other."

	The crowd laughed, cynically nudging neighbors.

	"Well. There's tradition, and there's tradition! You have some
things to learn. So, without further ado, I want to introduce to you
my parents, Mr. & Mrs. James and Eeky Topper!"

	She stepped down and the podium rolled aside as a synthesizer
blared the opening chords of "Thus Spake Zarathustra." From the
slanting tunnel the audience could see, first, a man's head appear.
Then his upper torso, clad in a grey flannel blazer, white shirt, and
striped school tie. The people in front began cat-calls at his
wardrobe.

	But then they fell silent as it became obvious that these were
the only clothes he was wearing. Some began to cheer. Then, behind
him, they could see... a Shetland pony? It was!

	A pony! A pony? James stopped and the pony came up beside him
and stopped, turning her head to nuzzle his exposed genitals.

	Diane walked over to her parents, hugged her father, and
stroked her mother's nose. Then, in triumph, she turned to face the
crowd.

	They roared. Some laughed, some booed, some hissed. More
cheered, louder and louder as realization dawned.

	"Cool!" Even Sarah was thunderstruck. "Do you suppose they
really. ... ?"

	All doubt was removed as Eeky stepped forward, turned
sideways, and raised her tail. James stepped up behind and quickly
began copulating, much to their obvious mutual pleasure. Many of the
students and even some of the teachers began massaging their groins as
they watched. Meanwhile, Diane stepped to the wings of the stage and
brought out a large dog. With an economy of motion that bespoke of
long practice, she removed her clothing, knelt, and was immediately
mounted. More of the audience moaned and reached for their own natural
toys.

	The principal wandered, fascinated, close to Diane and dropped
his pants. She reached up and grasped him, but couldn't get her mouth
high enough. He stepped over in front of Eeky, who took his member
into her mouth. His eyes bugged and he began humping, rapidly
approaching orgasm until he stopped with a screech of agony.

	"Sorry, sir," said James, "she sometimes forgets and bites
down."

	This brought to crowd to its knees, laughing. Some students
decided to take advantage of the position.

	On stage, both James and the dog had finished. He and his
daughter switched partners. She bent forward and began eating Eeky,
licking out the combination of mare-juice and man-cum. James lay down
and began mouthing the dog, bringing him back to erection. A gray-
haired home-ec teacher, a dazed expression on her face, stumbled over
and began licking up the spilled dog-cum on Diane's thighs. A gym
teacher ministered to the principal's damaged organ, murmuring "Jerry
kiss it and make it well!"

	Then things got confused.

				* * *

	Given the obvious success and enthusiasm, the school board
immediately initiated a new elective course called "Animal Husbandry"
in the curriculum. All other schools in the district followed suit at
the beginning of the Spring semester. It proved one of the most-
popular new courses offered in years.

	But let us return to the fast-food joint across from the ball
field after school let out on that fateful Friday.

	Diane was surrounded by students who wanted to see her, talk
to her, even touch her. The security guard stared longingly at her,
even removing her jockstrap to reveal that her slacks were crotchless.

	It took determination, courage, and a few well-placed punches
for Sarah to get near Diane. The rest of her entourage had no chance
of following as more and more people crowded inside to see their new
heroine.

	Finally, Sarah got her attention.

	"Uh, looks like we misjudged you, Diane. Would you like to
join the Swingin' Sisters now?"

	She shook her head.

	"You can even be the leader. We'll join you!"

	"Forget it. No way."

	Sarah felt a tear trickle down her cheek.

	"But - but, why?"

	Diane faced her and sneered. "Daddy's horse is NOT a pet!"

				* * *

	This is the end of Section Three of the Rainbow Curriculum
multi- cultural education series. Section Four begins with "Baste Thy
Neighbor," a study of cannibalism in Borneo.

				* * *

		 - == THINKING ABOUT WHAT YOU HAVE READ == -

	1. Is it right for an exclusive clique to
	dominate a water fountain, or should they hang
	around the soda machine instead?

	2. Was Juana acting like an ethnic stereotype
	with her attitude towards children and welfare,
	or was she rightfully acting out her cultural
	heritage?

	3. Should a girl be allowed to have a "female
	circumcision" at age thirteen without her
	parents' permission?

	4. Should teachers be allowed to carry guns in
	school?

	5. Does the use of bullet-proof shielding around
	school officials indicate stereotypical fear or
	an oppressive frustration of student ambitions
	and aspirations?

	6. Should those who work and pay taxes to
	support those who don't be regarded as second-
	class citizens or should efforts be made to
	grant them the same respect as everyone else?

	7. Do you think schools should issue better-
	quality condoms?

	8. Do you think classes like this are for
	hopeless losers who'll never graduate beyond
	hamburger-flipping?

	9. Why is the sky blue?

	10. This is the last question. Why are you still
	reading this?

Hossie