niggers/ZooTracker_Torrents/Petbooks/PP-7012.TXT

PP-7012 The Breeders by Nicole Duval


Chapter One


The hand-wrought iron sign which hung over the heavy carved wooden 
doors of the main gate read: ROYAL BENSON KENNELS. But to those who 
recognized quality, it said 'expensive.'

Carolyn Vance pressed the call button and listened expectantly for the 
harsh ring of a bell somewhere within the grounds. There was no sound. 
Perhaps the bell was out of order, or perhaps the buildings were 
soundproofed. For a large commercial kennel, it was surprisingly silent 
behind those high walls. No dogs had barked at her approach. There 
seemed to be no sound at all beyond the high-walled grounds. That was 
odd, she thought.

Then the faint static of an intercom called her attention to the 
intricate iron grillwork just above the call button.

"Royal Benson Kennels. May we be of service?"

The voice was definitely male, but veloured by good breeding and years 
of servitude, like an unobtrusive English butler.

"Yes," Carol answered in the general direction of the soft static 
sounds. "I'd like to see Mr. Benson please."

"Mr. Benson sees no one after working hours without an appointment. I'm 
sorry. Would you care to telephone for an appointment tomorrow?" the 
illusive voice said. "You will find a rack of business cards by the 
bell, the telephone number is located in the lower right hand 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 Two


From a room across the patio, Jason Benson watched Carolyn succumb to 
the effects of the tasteless drug which he had stirred into the hot 
cocoa. Now, if she turned out to be a good subject for hypnosis as 
well, the Royal Benson dogs would have a new mistress. Jason had 
already waited too long. The dogs were restless. But it was difficult 
to find a pretty girl with no family or friends, no one to wonder what 
happened when she dropped out of sight. Of course, there had been a few 
- coarse, plain women that no one wanted, no one would miss - but Jason 
preferred to mix business with pleasure. Perhaps the dogs didn't mind a 
plain mistress but Jason found the training sessions more stimulating 
when the bitches were attractive. He studied the still figure of the 
unconscious girl in the lighted window across the patio. Yes, she was 
very attractive. He smiled in anticipation. This was going to be a 
pleasant season. He was sure of that.

"I'll get the girl ready," Jason said quietly to his assistant. "You 
bring your camera equipment ... and hurry. We don't want the effects of 
the drug to wear off before we have arranged for insurance."

Without waiting for a reply, Jason hurried from the room. Mario stayed 
by the window a moment longer, staring at the limp figure of the girl. 
His face was passive. His hands strayed now and again to his crotch to 
rub the head of the sleeping beast which lay there.

* * *

Mario bumped the door open with his knees. His hands were full of light 
standards, cameras and two cases of film. Jason jerked around at the 
sound of the door banging against the wall and frowned.

"F'god sake, try to be a little more quiet, Mario."
"Hell, boss, she's out like a light."

"That may be, my young friend, but let's not take unnecessary chances, 
eh?" There were times when Jason Benson would like to have taken the 
plaited dog whip which hung in the exercise room and which could raise 
bloody welts each time it laid across the skin, to Mario Serge but he 
needed him. He needed someone to help ... and Mario's perverted 
sexuality made him perfect for the job. It took patience sometimes, 
like today, when Mario's anticipation overrode his good sense. He 
smiled to hide his feelings. "In an hour or so, we will be finished. 
And then ..."

Jason left the sentence hanging, deliciously dangling before Mario's 
growing desire like a carrot before a hungry ass. Mario's eyes 
glittered and the bulge in his tight pants grew larger and more 
noticeable. He began scurrying quietly around the room, setting up the 
light poles around the center island bed. Jason smiled faintly. The 
young man had the insatiability of a sailor and the mind of a child. He 
could be led around by the prick. Jason shook his head tolerantly, then 
began his own preparations. From the big cedar chest at the foot of the 
bed he took a rich blue velvet spread and carefully arranged it on the 
bed. He glanced at the motionless girl, at her flawless pale ivoried 
skin ... yes, the color would be perfect. He walked to the movie camera 
on its sturdy tripod and sighted through the viewer. He pursed his 
lips, looked up over the camera, then through the view finder once 
more. "Mario ..."

"Uhmmm?" He was having trouble with the height adjustment on one of the 
lights.

"Move the first two lights on the other side of the bed. I can see them 
in the viewer."

"Okay, but you won't get good lighting on her butt without any floods 
behind her."  Mario growled.

"You're probably right," Jason agreed reluctantly, "but we don't want 
the bloody light pole showing in the pictures either."

"How about moving that screen behind the bed," Mario suggested, "then I 
could put the light poles behind it and we'd still get the effect?"

"Good, good."  Jason sighted through the camera, nodding his head as 
Mario made the suggested changes. "There ... there, that's it. That's 
fine!"

He raised up from the camera and grinned at his assistant. "And now the 
girl ..."  he said.

Carolyn had not moved since the drug had taken effect. She lay limply 
relaxed in the big overstuffed easy chair facing the courtyard window. 
Jason walked quietly over to her and sat on the ottoman at her feet. He 
began talking to her softly ... very softly.

"You are very tired. Very, very tired. You are asleep, Carolyn Vance, 
sound asleep. You haven't been able to sleep for days and now you are 
sound asleep."  His voice droned on, toneless and void of all 
inflection. "As you're becoming deeper and deeper asleep, your 
breathing will become deeper too. Deep, deep from the bottom of your 
lungs. Breathe deep, Carolyn, deep, deep."

The sound of her breath was audible in the room now, her chest 
expanding and contracting with each breath. Jason could hear the air 
rushing between her lips as she inhaled. He looked up at Mario and 
winked. Mario nodded solemnly.

"You must sleep deeply, Carolyn, and then you will feel wonderful. You 
will feel just wonderful. Deep, Carolyn, a deep, deep sleep."  Jason 
picked up one limp hand and began stroking it lightly with his fingers. 
"Imagine you are in a cave, a deep, dark quiet cave, Carolyn. There are 
steps in this cave, nice, wide, safe, steps carved out of stone and 
they go down. Down, down, down into the cool dark cave. It's quiet down 
there, Carolyn, peaceful and quiet. If you could only walk down those 
steps and into the quiet depths of the cave, Carolyn, everything would 
be wonderful again."

Jason looked at the wide-eyed Mario and jerked his head toward the box 
on the table. Mario nodded. Jason continued to stroke her hand softly, 
regularly.

"We are going down those steps together, Carolyn, into the quiet 
peaceful darkness. You can hear our footsteps as we go deep, deep down 
into the darkness."  He nodded to Mario, who stood waiting with a flat 
piece of marble in one hand and a small rubber headed mallet in the 
other. At his nod, Mario began tapping on the marble, holding it 
lightly by one end so not to dull the resonant sound of the mallet. 
"Down, down, down into the cool darkness, Carolyn, deep, deep, deep 
into the cave of your mind. Hear the footsteps as we walk down, 
Carolyn, deep, deep, deep."

The hand he stroked suddenly became even more limp, it was like a 
boneless mass of flesh that wanted to melt and slip from his grasp. 
Jason smiled. He studied the heavy pulse at the base of her throat. It 
was pulsing with heavy, even throbs. He lifted Carolyn's hand and 
dropped it on to her lap. There was no reaction. He looked at her from 
beneath his heavy half-closed lids and smiled. This one was a fine 
subject, she would perform well for their cameras ... and once her 
performance was recorded on film, he would give her to his dogs, his 
fine canine progeny, his boys.

"Shall I get the King, boss?" Mario asked impatiently. "Or ya wanta 
start with me?"

Jason cocked his head and looked appraisingly at the pretty face of the 
girl slumped in the chair. He liked to use the King first but sometimes 
the shock of it brought a subject out from under before they really had 
enough insurance to prevent trouble. If there was any chance of that, 
he used Mario first. This time, however ... He held her chin up in his 
fingers, then let it drop abruptly. This time there would be no 
trouble. She was an exceptionally fine hypnotic study. All he had to do 
was insure that he used the proper phrasings. A person under hypnosis 
would not do anything violently against their principles. If you had 
unpleasantries to deal with, you never said "shoot your husband" ... 
you said "you are frightened of snakes, there is a snake who will bite 
you, kill him" and killing snakes was not against their moral fiber. 
Bang, you're dead. Jason smiled. He was an experienced hand at 
hypnosis. Consciously this shy girl would rebel at what he had planned 
for her, "tactfully worded" she would purr like a pussycat in heat.

"Bring the King," he said softly to Mario. "There'll be plenty left 
over for you, my boy, there's plenty for both of you."

Jason crossed his legs, leaned his chin on his hand and looked at the 
girl ... it was a dirty business ... but such a stimulating one. 
Already he was feeling the first birth pains of a gigantic erection 
tingling in his loins. He lingered amid the feeling of a painful need 
for a moment, then put it out of his mind as the sound of heavy 
footpads entered the door of Carolyn's room. He turned to face the 
King.

He was a magnificent beast, a full three and a half feet at the 
shoulders, with the chest of a bull and the proud head of a champion. 
He pulled at the choke chain in Mario's hand, leading the slim man at 
will, pulling him over to where his master sat on the ottoman. Jason 
clouted him playfully across the muscled rump and pulled at his jowls.

"Hello there, King," Jason said with pride in his voice, "How ya doing, 
boy?'

The dog rubbed against his leg and licked at his hand. Jason wooled him 
once more, then rose and took the choke chain lead from Mario. "Here, 
boy," he said with the tone of command and walked him to the side of 
the bed nearest the camera tripod. "Now, sit. SIT. STAY."

The King squatted obediently on his great fawn haunches and watched 
expectantly. Jason removed the chain from his thick neck and tossed it 
to one side. The King watched it slide on the floor. "STAY," he 
commanded once more. "STAY."

"You want me to operate the camera this time, boss?" Mario asked.

"Hmmm, yes, I think so, Mario."  Jason studied first the girl, then the 
bed. "Yes, you do that. I'll tell you when to start the mechanism and 
when to cut. Is everything ready?"

"Yeah, all ready ... 'cept for the girl. She's not undressed yet."  
Mario looked hopefully toward his employer. "You want me to undress 
her???"

"Not this time," Jason smiled thoughtfully, "she's too good a subject 
to overlook ... let's play this one by ear, shall we?"

Mario grinned obscenely. This was gonna be one helluva night, he could 
tell. The boss was rarely this wound up over any of the new bitches. 
And when he was, sooner or later the girl would wish she'd sewed her 
pussy shut and pee'd out her ear. He watched Jason cross over to the 
girl and begin stroking her forehead gently.

"Deep ... deep ... deep. Carolyn, do you hear me, Carolyn?" The girl 
stirred and mumbled something.

"You can speak, Carolyn, but you will not wake up: Do you hear me, 
Carolyn?"

Her throat worked once, twice, then a small distant voice answered. "I 
hear you."

"Good, very good."  Jason's voice remained absolutely toneless and 
unemotional. "Something nice is going to happen to you, Carolyn, 
something very nice."

Jason watched the girl's face carefully. There was no expression, no 
change of manner or mean. Her breathing was regular and deep. The pulse 
point in her throat strong.

"Carolyn, you have finally found the man you love, a thoughtful 
considerate attractive man who has asked you to marry him. You are deep 
... deep ... deeply in love with this man. You are so happy that you 
cannot help but smile."  Jason watched closely. The girl's face broke 
open with a happy smile, her straight even teeth lying like carved 
ivory upon the soft full red lips. Yes, she would look convincing on 
film. "And now, Carolyn, it is your wedding night. Your new husband 
sits beside the bed. You are very happy. Deep ... deep ... deeply 
happy. He has asked you to undress for him. He wants to see your 
beautiful body unclothed for him alone. Will you do this for him, 
Carolyn?"

The girl in the chair nodded slowly, the happy smile still fresh upon 
her face as if she couldn't stop smiling if she wanted to because she 
was so happy.
"Then get up, Carolyn. Walk to the bed and start undressing."  Jason 
nodded approvingly to Mario as the girl slowly rose from her chair and 
walked to the end of the bed. "Now, Mario," Jason said softly in soto 
voice, "start the film now."
"Your new husband thinks you are very beautiful, Carolyn. Why don't you 
look at him and smile to let him know you love him too?"

The girl paused and looked toward the side of the bed with a shy smile.

"No, Carolyn, your husband is on the other side of the bed. That's 
right, a little lower. He's sitting down waiting for you to finish. 
Smile at him, Carolyn. You love him, smile as if you love him."

Carolyn turned slowly and stared toward the camera, fixing her eyes in 
the direction of the big Great Dane. Her face was filled with 
happiness, eyes bright, her mouth parted and damp.

"Now undress, Carolyn, keep your eyes on your new husband and undress." 
Jason coached tonelessly, careful not to break the spell of the moment.

She began unbuttoning the front of her blue shirtwaist dress, looking 
toward the Dane with half-closed eyes, a look of anticipation masked 
her lovely face. The dress dropped to the floor and she let it lay 
there. She reached slowly behind her back and undid the clasp of her 
bra, letting her hands slide forward to cup the heavy breasts and hold 
them up for his approval. "Mario," Jason spoke quietly, "pan in on the 
King. He's watching her ... he knows what's coming ... and he's getting 
a real hard on."

The small Bell & Howard camera swiveled smoothly on its tripod and 
aimed toward the waiting dog. The animal's eyes were on Carolyn's every 
movement, following the motion of her hands, her body. His tongue hung 
out and dripped saliva.
"Lower, Mario, smoothly now."

The camera swung lower, following the muscular lines of the huge dog's 
body, then pausing on the long hairy sheath that housed the great 
canine penis. The camera whirred on, as Mario zoomed a slow close-up, 
so close Jason knew that the sheath and its partially exposed organ 
would fill the frame of the picture. King panted in anticipation, each 
heaving breath causing the pole-hard penis to poke in and out of its 
covering.

"Hold it there, Mario," Jason spoke in a whisper, "I'm going to try 
something."

Behind the camera viewer, Mario's eyes were bright. His crotch heavy 
with anticipation. Staring at a stud dog's prick didn't normally do 
much for the small Italian man, but now as he focused the camera on it 
at close range, knowing as he knew that it would be buried in the 
girl's hot wet pussy in a few minutes, the expectation was almost too 
much. He tried to put the thought from his mind. It wasn't easy.

"Stay, King," Jason spoke gently to the dog, "Stay. King, do you want 
to lick the girl, boy? Lick the girl, King? STAY. Stay."

The dog was near frantic with the promised goal. His tongue lapped 
hungrily over his jowls and his penis jutted out at full staff length 
and bobbed gently up and down with its own weight.

"Jesus," Mario said softly from behind the camera.

"Now, Mario, bring the camera slowly back to the girl and keep it on 
her until she's on the bed and ready."

The camera swung on a straight line from the dog's stiff pointed organ 
to the now nude body of Carolyn Vance and paused dutifully on the 
mouse-brown curls of her split. The camera angle was perfect, Mario 
grinned to himself, GOD what a film this one would be. The girl was 
gonna dirty her pants when she saw this one.

"Carolyn," Jason's voice was toneless, coaching once more. "Carolyn, 
your new husband can't wait to make love to you. Is this the first time 
you've made love to a man?"
"No," the faint answer came.

"Too bad," Jason muttered softly to his associate, "it would have been 
damned effective to film the losing of her cherry with the blood and 
all on the King's big cock. Oh well."

"Jesus wept, I guess!" Mario agreed, his eye still on the girl squared 
in the viewer. The camera whirred on. "Say, boss, I'd better change 
film before we start the main event."

"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 Three


Carolyn sat with frozen horror, her eyes glued to the small movie 
screen at the end of the long dining room table, her fingers white from 
clutching the edge of the thick wooden chair on which she sat.

On the white-beaded screen not six feet from her eyes, she watched 
herself being ravished by a great golden dog whose terrible pointed 
penis dug holes in her body, plunging in and out, stretching the tender 
pink slit mercilessly. When the camera periodically zoomed in for a 
close-up, she could feel her stomach churn up and she felt ill. She 
could see the soft inner lips of her vagina cling to the dog's thick 
hard organ as it rose and fell, leaped and lunged. She could see the 
muscles, her muscles, tighten and release around the animal's awful 
penis, slowly, deliberately milking it to climax. But worst of all, 
worst of all, was the awful look of wild animal passion on her own 
face, a look of anguished need, of sexual need of such magnitude that 
she was fascinated and horrified at the same instant. She watched her 
writhing body raise beneath the dog's humping haunches, rising to meet 
him thrust for thrust until the bulge on his great organ began to swell 
toward climax. She could see it growing, like a knot on a tire just 
before a blowout, see it grow as he pushed and pulled it in and out of 
her body until the swelling was too great for the small vaginal orifice 
to release. And still he hunched frantically over her musky hole.

She knew she was going to be ill but still she could not force her eyes 
from the terrible pictures on the screen. As the great dog's urge 
claimed him, he humped her cunt so hard that his upward pulls lifted 
her hips off the bed. He humped her again and again, slamming the thick 
trunk of his organ in double time, faster, faster. Suddenly Carolyn saw 
herself - no, not her, some terrible unfortunate creature on the screen 
- some girl writhe convulsively, forcing her body up the hot fleshy 
bone, skewering her body onto the dog's humping haunches. The spasms 
which racked her climaxing body squeezed the bulging organ and he, too, 
began the frantic race for release. Her climax burst within her, 
exploding, ripping away the body from the mind. She lay spent and limp 
upon the deep blue velvet, a single thin red line welling from 
somewhere within where the dog knot had torn the tender fabric of her 
body. The huge golden dog humped once, twice more, and then stood still 
but for an occasional tremor, patiently waiting for the swelling to 
subside and release him from this used bitch's body.

Carolyn suddenly leaned over, laying her head on her arm along the edge 
of the table and vomited, retching again and again until only dry 
heaves shook her body.

Jason Benson smiled coldly and waited. When the heaving had almost 
ceased, he lifted the ornate water pitcher and poured a glass of water. 
He tapped her arm gently to attract her attention and sat the ice 
tinkling glass on the table within reach.

"A cool drink of water will make you feel better, my dear," he said in 
the same charming modulated voice that Carolyn had thought so 
attractive during the job interview.

She raised her head and stared across the table at the calm dignified 
face of Jason Benson. How could she have been so wrong? Outwardly Jason 
appeared the soul of trust, the soft voice, the cultured demeanor was 
really all a sham. It was all camouflage for a distorted mind. The 
prematurely greying hair, the tanned country gentleman look, these were 
but subtle traps to fool the outside world. Here, inside the high walls 
of this awful place, he became the base creature he really was. He was 
just ... another of the animals of Royal Benson Kennels! The memory of 
what she had just seen flooded through her mind like the sloppy 
backwash of a stagnant swamp. Her throat contracted, her stomach 
roiled. She reached for the glass of water and drank deeply.

"Feeling better?" he asked, the cold smile fixed upon his face.

Just then the tag end of the rewinding movie reel whirred loose and 
slap-slapped noisily against the machine.

"Mario!" Jason's voice was edged with contempt for the careless boy. 
"Watch what you're doing. We wouldn't want to damage that film. It 
might not be quite so easy to get Carolyn to make another that ... 
interesting."

"Ohhhh, how could you?" Her voice was rimmed with hatred. "HOW COULD 
YOU?"

"How could I?" Jason smiled. "It was really quite simple, my dear girl. 
You are sexually inclined by nature and that enviable virtue combined 
with your almost unbelievable naivete ... well, suffice to say, it was 
a simple task to convince your subconscious mind that it was a devoted 
lover between your legs."

"How could you do such an awful thing?" Carolyn whispered hoarsely.

"Me?" Jason laughed. "You were the one who did the 'awful' things, 
Carolyn. You forced my poor assistant into some very degrading 
situations. I was really quite shocked! Ah, but then, you shall judge 
for yourself. Mario, would you start the next roll of film please?"

Carolyn's eyes widened and she flashed a quick look toward Mario. He 
grinned back and shook his dark head in mock disapproval.

"No!" she shouted. "No, I don't want to see it. I don't know how you 
made me do those terrible things ... it was a trick of some kind, drugs 
or something ... but I don't want to see it. Please. PLEASE."

"Oh, very well." He nodded toward Mario to stop the projector. The room 
was suddenly very silent without the hum of the machine. "I must say 
I'm rather disappointed, though. It was a very ... stimulating ... 
experience watching that bit of film. You may pack away the reel, 
Mario. Be sure to lock it up quite safely. Miss Vance may wish to see 
it again some day."

"You're the one who should be locked up! You're crazy!" She stared at 
the man across the table, her fingers gripping the chair so tightly 
that the tips were white and bloodless. "You really are crazy!"

"Crazy? ... Like a fox, my dear Miss Vance." The icy smile never left 
his lips. "Those films are my insurance that you won't try to have me 
locked up. Or anything else unpleasant. Should you try? I would have to 
tell the authorities that you used your position with Royal Benson 
Kennels to try to blackmail me. I would have to show them the films I 
bought from you at exorbitant prices in order to buy your silence. It 
was worth the $5,000 you demanded to protect the reputation of the 
Kennels."

"They wouldn't believe you. If it was true, you would have turned me 
over to the police right then and there."
"Not necessarily. Jason Benson is known as a quiet sensitive man, an 
artist in his own right. They would understand why I wouldn't want to 
go into court to testify against you. It would mean publicity, the 
front pages of every paper. No, the police would understand why a man 
of my reputation preferred to pay blackmail." He leaned back in the 
chair and looked at her over the brandy glass cupped in his hand. "I 
feel quite confident that you would prefer to assist me with my work 
and remain silent rather than spend ten years in prison for blackmail 
... should it come to that."

"You couldn't prove blackmail even if you wanted to."

"Oh, but I could." His voice was ripe with confidence. "You see, I 
withdrew $5,000 in cash from my bank today ... in small bills ... the 
cashier who has long handled my personal account was quite concerned 
with my nervousness. Considerate girl, that, she asked me twice if I 
was sure everything was all right."

Carolyn stared in disbelief. This couldn't be happening to her, not to 
Carolyn Vance from Tyler Corners whose major sins to date consisted of 
using her mother's credit card for gas and necking after the Saturday 
night movie. These things only happened to girls off the street, girls 
who were looking for trouble and were disappointed if they didn't find 
it. He couldn't really believe she would stay here and work for him, 
not after this!

"And if you are still thinking about going to the police, Carolyn," he 
spoke softly, "discounting the blackmail charges, do you think they 
would believe you?"

"Of course, they'd believe me," she answered incredulously. "No girl 
would do a terrible thing like that willingly. You forced me!"

"Did I?" The frozen smile took on a new malignancy. "There were no 
bonds holding you down, no one holding your legs apart for the dog. Do 
you really think any person seeing the joy on your pretty face would 
believe you weren't enjoying it? The way you reached up with your wet 
little pussy and screwed yourself higher onto his big cock, you think 
anybody's going to believe you didn't want to fuck that dog?"

"And afterwards, Carolyn, when you and the dog had both spent 
yourselves so disgustingly, when the swelling went down and he pulled 
it out and licked you clean ... when you smiled and spread your legs 
and patted your hairy little cunt and tried to coax him back again ... 
do you realty think anyone in their right mind would believe you were 
forced into it?"

Tears welled in her eyes and ran unchecked down her pale cheeks. He was 
right. She had seen the awful spectacle herself. No one would believe 
her, never in a thousand years.

"And the second reel of film, the one you didn't want to watch," Jason 
continued, "I'm sure it would convince the police of your unfortunate 
perversion if the other one didn't. You did some very, very naughty 
things to my poor Mario while he was tied up and unable to get away 
from you. Oh, he struggled and tried to turn his innocent body away, 
but you forced your unnatural appetites upon him. Your unrestrained 
molesting may have caused permanent psychological damage to the lad! It 
was shocking, shocking!"

Carolyn's face was streaked with tears and she slowly moved her head 
from side to side. She couldn't have, she couldn't have done anything 
like that.

"I can see that you don't believe me. Perhaps we should run the film 
after all. Mario?" Jason taunted.
"No ... no, please!"

"Never mind, Mario," Jason purred reassuringly across the table, "Don't 
cry, my dear. If you stay and work for me as we agreed, no one need 
ever know about the films. No one at all."

Carolyn hung her head and stared into her tear-dampened lap. This awful 
man, this canine Jekyll and Hyde had forced her into a corner from 
which there was no escape. How could she stay here in this house of 
depravity and work for a man whose mind crawled with evil? How was she 
to know that he wouldn't try to put her through another night like 
that? Or worse? perhaps he would force his own attentions on her. 
Perhaps Mario would get to thinking about the things she was forced to 
do to him and his unstable mind might snap. She would be in constant 
danger here ... but the alternative was prison for blackmail. She 
didn't have a choice.

"What ... what do you expect me to do?" she asked with a silent sob in 
her throat.

"Why, just exactly what we discussed when you accepted the position. I 
merely want you to help me train these fine young animals. That's all, 
my dear, just train the dogs."

"Train them? To do what, Mr. Benson? You never did say. Exactly what 
kind of training do the dogs require?" Her voice was haughty, cutting.

Jason lifted the heavy glass decanter from the center of the table and 
poured a generous amount in his glass. He lifted the bottle in her 
direction. Carolyn shook her head. He replaced the stopper in the 
container, leaned back in the big wooden chair and sipped at the brandy 
glass cupped in his lean tan hands. He looked at Carolyn from beneath 
the gently arched brows, half amused, half tolerant.

"I thought you would surely have figured that out by now, Carolyn ..."


Chapter Four


It was inevitable, Carolyn thought, as she followed Jason Benson 
through the endless passages of the big house. She knew the time would 
come when she would be forced to take part in the monstrous perversion 
but it had seemed so ... so unbelievable that her mind had not really 
accepted the situation in which she found herself. Not until now! As 
they walked down the long hall toward the kennels and the 
"indoctrination tour" as Jason put it, Carolyn's mind finally had to 
face facts.

The door which opened off the Royal Benson Kennel's office was locked. 
Jason pressed a button beneath the counter top and the door slid open 
with a soft whir. He gestured for Carolyn to enter, followed her 
through and pressed another button. The door whirred shut with smooth 
efficiency.

Before them lay a wide carpeted aisleway flanked on both sides by 
identical cages of chain link wire, joined one to the other like the 
row upon row of exclusive center city apartments which thrived in 
downtown New York City. Each cage was exactly like the next, a large 
chrome feeding dish, an automatic fresh water bowl and a rectangular 
mattress pad covered in royal blue canvas. Each cage was occupied.

Carolyn self-consciously shied from the cages, only to bump into a 
similar row of dogs on the other side of the aisle. She jumped forward, 
careful to stand in the exact center of the walkway. Her hands were 
trembling.

"No, no, my dear," Jason explained impatiently. "You don't understand. 
These are the show dogs, the famous Royal Benson Danes. Animals like 
these aren't used as toys for the rich, my dear girl, not champion 
stock like this. It's taken years to perfect such fine dogs."

He walked briskly over to the first cage and pointed to the pair of 
matched frames which hung one above the other on the cage front.

"Look," he said enthusiastically, "Look at these pedigrees."

Carolyn moved closer at his insistence, and read the small print on the 
forms. Royal Benson's King Lear, sired by Royal Benson's Black Emperor, 
sired by Royal Benson's Demon, etc, etc. The ornately printed pedigree 
went back five generations and each dog bore the kennel title of 
Benson. She didn't know much about Dane conformation but she knew 
enough about registered animals to know that an unbroken pedigree line 
free from inbreeding was an accomplishment to be proud of.

"And here," he continued, pointing to the second frame, "here is a list 
of every win the dog has made."

He ran his finger down a long list of titles, pausing here and there to 
emphasize the enormity of the win.

"Best Champion of Show ... Best Grand Champion of Show. And here, Best 
of Show! Do you realize how difficult it is to win a Best of Show out 
of hundreds of dogs from all over the country?" He asked Carolyn, not 
pausing for her answer, "All of my boys end up there sooner or later. 
What do you think of that?"

"It's very ... impressive." Carolyn tried to say something to salve his 
ego but she was still in the cold numb state of near shock.

Jason walked through the cages, calling each great dog by name, 
scratching them through the wire, praising them in turn as one would 
children. Carolyn watched him blankly. She had cried away all her tears 
of horror, the tears of fear ... weeped herself dry of revulsion ... 
there was almost nothing left. She walked and talked and tried not to 
think. There was nothing she could do for the present except as she was 
told. Jason had made that quite clear when he showed her the movie film 
of ... she shuddered even at the thought ... of that terrible dog at 
her loins. He had locked her in her room overlooking the dog runs, a 
prisoner of the damnable electric locks, and let her absorb the awful 
truth. Once she accepted the inevitable, he had said, it would be 
easier. And perhaps it was. She wasn't sure. She no longer trembled at 
every sound in the hall, no longer felt nauseous when a dog barked in 
the runs beneath her window. Perhaps he was right, now that she had 
accepted the inevitable, the days had been easier.

 ... if only she could rid her dreams of the endless hordes of 
slavering dogs with giant cocks which hung stiff and heavy headed 
beneath their stomachs, dogs which followed her everywhere sniffling at 
her wet slit and licking their eager organs. One night in her dreams 
they would attack her, this army of rutting animals that crowded her 
dreams, and then she would surely go mad ... if she wasn't already ...

Jason gestured toward the door at the end of the blue carpeted walkway. 
"This way, my dear."

Carolyn walked slowly between the cages, taking care not to touch the 
wire sides. She had succeeded in controlling her revulsion thus far but 
the touch of one of those great beasts, the hot wet tongue upon her 
hand might be enough to loose the panic she felt inside.

The door beyond Jason bore no handle, no means of access. Carolyn 
looked about for the electric button but the wall was clean. She looked 
back at the door. There was a small neat plastic sign. "Hospital Area-
No Admittance." She waited for Jason to open the door, and then she 
suddenly realized that "no admittance" meant that behind that door ... 
only a few steps beyond ... were the other dogs. Her eyes grew wide 
with apprehension and she backed away from the door.

"Yes, my dear, the Hospital Area," Jason smiled at her reaction. 
"Rather appropriate, don't you think? We like to think of our work as a 
humanitarian service. You might call it physical therapy."

Lines creased her lovely face but Jason's suddenly clamped jaw warned 
them away, and Carolyn forced her features into impersonal repose. She 
didn't trust her voice to remain steady. She nodded her head curtly, 
keeping her eyes carefully averted from his.

"Never mind," Jason's voice was tolerant. "You will learn. The others 
did."

"The others?" Carolyn's eyes flashed back to his. It had never occurred 
to her that there had been others before her, others who shared her 
fate. What had happened to them? What was going to happen to her when 
she was no longer needed?

"But of course!' Jason smiled with amusement. "We have had six, perhaps 
seven other young ladies. Each of whom, I can assure you, learned to 
enjoy her work with a consuming passion."

"What ... what happened to them?" She was almost afraid to ask. "Did 
you ... are they ...?"

"Of course not!" His voice grew impatient. "We didn't dispose of them. 
You watch too many B movies! I simply meant that we had to terminate 
their employment. They became, shall we say, too enamored of their 
work. They were wearing my poor boys out and overtraining is just as 
bad as no training at all. Aahhhh, but enough of that. Come in, come 
in."

Jason pressed the palm of his right hand firmly against the metal plate 
of the door. From somewhere beyond, there came the familiar answering 
whir and the door slid silently open. Carolyn followed him around the 
elaborate folding screen which sheltered the room from view when the 
door was open. Whatever she had expected to see in her mind's eye, it 
certainly was not the sight which met her eyes. She stared at the huge 
laboratory area. Everything was neat and sterile in appearance. She 
could hear the faint hum of the air conditioning unit and the 
temperature was pleasantly cool. There was a fresh light scent of ozone 
in the air but, she thought with surprise, no doggy odor although 
nearly half the area was taken up with wire cages. Each cage was 
immaculate, as those in the outer room had been, except that these 
cages bore no pedigrees, no identification other than a small neatly 
lettered sign with each dog's name she could read those nearest her - 
Nero, Baron, Casanova, Brute, simple names with no hint of Royal Benson 
registration. Yet to Carolyn's untrained eyes they were as big and well 
bred as the show dogs she had just admired.

She stared at the dogs, her emotions part horror and part curiosity. 
Fawn, black, harlequin-spotted animals, alert and obviously in the peak 
of health. Some were young, gangly legged beasts with huge paws and 
clumsy manners, the canine adolescents. Some were huge heavy-chested 
animals; virile, beautiful, terrible ... and each one watched her 
intently. One immense dog in particular, a fawn-colored giant with a 
black mask, rose from his haunches when she entered and had paced 
impatiently back and forth the length of his cage ever since. Carolyn 
felt uncomfortable in his presence and forced her eyes away from his. 
She turned her back and left the area of his cage and still she felt 
those eyes following her. She knelt before a separate cage of young 
puppies, letting them tumble over one another and chew on her fingers; 
anything to avert her mind from the pacing dog behind her.

Jason watched with interest. The girl seemed to subconsciously sense 
the King's presence yet he was certain she did not recognize him after 
a cursory glance at a roomful of dogs. To the novice, one Dane looked 
pretty much like another. Interesting, Jason thought, interesting.

"Well, my dear," Jason called her attention back to the business at 
hand, "Would you like to see how we train our dogs?"

Carolyn looked up apprehensively. Jason smiled, enjoying her 
discomfort. He crooked a finger at the girl.
"Come here."

She walked slowly over to a tiled top counter where Jason Benson 
waited. He waited until she stood beside him, then reached below the 
counter into a small refrigerator and removed what looked like a baby 
bottle with a large old fashioned rubber nipple. He held it up for 
Carolyn to see.

"This is one of our training aids ... and a very effective one too, I 
might add," he said with the odd secretive smile he seemed to wear so 
frequently when he looked at her.

Carolyn looked at the bottle. It seemed like a normal feeding bottle, 
but she felt he expected her to say something.

"Do you bottle feed all your dogs? Don't the mothers feed them?" she 
asked.

"Aaahhhh, but this is more than a bottle, my dear girl. Here, let me 
show you." Jason unscrewed the rubber cover and held it in his hand, 
nipple up. "It looks rather like a woman's breast, doesn't it?"

"Yes ..." Carolyn wondered what he was leading up to. She had an 
uncomfortable feeling she'd rather not know.

Jason appeared not to notice her discomfort and screwed the rubber top 
back on the bottle and sat it down.

"Now," he continued, "I shall get one of the young pups and show you 
how we use the bottle in our training program. I'm sure you'll be very 
interested since it will be part of your job in the future, a very 
personal part of your job."

Jason Benson walked to the nearest puppy cage and took out one of the 
small animals. He sat it on the counter top, faced it toward her, and 
inserted the milk-filled nipple between the pup's teeth. Immediately 
the hungry dog began to pull at it licking and sucking and making small 
happy animal sounds. Then suddenly the pup let out a whine and began 
pawing frantically at his mouth. He whimpered pitifully and looked up 
at them with begging eyes.

"What's the matter with him?" Carolyn asked, her voice full of concern 
for the baby animal.

"It won't hurt him." Jason smiled coldly. "He just learned an important 
lesson. You see, my dear, the nipples on these bottles have a two-fold 
purpose - they allow a young dog to continue his prolonged abilities to 
suck, but the nipples also have an unpleasant substance encapsulated 
between the two sections of rubber. If the pup bites the nipple, his 
teeth will puncture the first layer of rubber. It's a bitter mouthful! 
But the bitter lesson is the one first learned. The liquid is composed 
basically of alum, cayenne and saline solution, nontoxic but thoroughly 
distasteful as you can see. After several such experiences, our young 
friend here will learn to suck on the nipple if he wishes the reward 
... not bite ... a virtue I'm sure you will appreciate as time goes 
on."

"You don't mean these dogs are trained to ... to ..."

"To nurse at a girl's breast?" Jason helped her finish the question. 
"Yes, that is exactly what I mean. It will be part of your job to see 
that the lesson is learned well!"

She felt sick at her stomach. She knew that Jason Benson had more in 
mind than bottle feeding pups. The puppy on the counter top was 
squirming frantically, trying to free itself of Jason's hands and the 
empty bottle. Carolyn had the feeling that the small animal must 
somehow sense that she would supply its succulence. A shudder ran 
through her body and she stepped back away from the counter. Jason only 
smiled and returned the pup to the kennel.

"There are other benefits of bottle training," he continued, "which are 
even more in demand. Would you like to see a demonstration?"

Carolyn shook her head from side to side, but Jason ignored the 
movement and flipped the switch on a small wall intercom. "Mario?" He 
queried.

"In the kitchen, boss," came the soft-voiced reply.
"Would you come to the lab, please."

"I'm cutting up meat for the dogs," Mario answered, "Could it wait 
about five minutes?"

"I'm sure Miss Vance won't mind waiting," Jason chuckled into the 
speaker. There was an answering chuckle over the static background.

"I'll hurry, boss, wouldn't want to keep the lady waiting ...."

Jason flipped the switch down and the static was gone. He turned back 
to Carolyn.

"Mario will be down shortly ... meanwhile, I think it's time we began 
your basic training." Jason gestured toward her dress. His voice was 
sterile toned and clinical. "Would you remove your clothing, please?"
Carolyn stared at him, not believing what her ears told her was true. 
Surely this man could not expect her to casually disrobe before him?

Jason busied himself at the counter preparing another nipple-capped 
bottle. He poured in a meager amount of milk, held it up to read the 
measurement, nodded curtly to himself and screwed on the plastic cap 
which held the rubber nipple tight to the bottle. Then he turned 
around.

"I thought I told you to take your clothes off." His voice was harsh 
now, the painted-on smile of amusement gone. His voice cut into her 
hesitation like a steel saber plunged deep in her belly.

"What for?" Carolyn asked weakly, one hand clutching at the dress 
front.

"Never mind what for!" Jason's eyes narrowed. His hand flashed out and 
cracked across her cheek, hard.
"Ohhhh!"

"When a dog refuses a command, he is whipped." Jason pulled the long 
braided whip from the wall and tapped it impatiently into his other 
hand. "I hope it will not be necessary to demonstrate, Carolyn."

"You can't threaten me," she sobbed, rubbing the red marks which scored 
streaks across her pale face.

"Take off your clothes, Carolyn." Jason said coldly.

She cowered in the corner, trapped like one of Jason's animals between 
the counter and the wall while he stood firm on spread legs blocking 
the only escape. The whip slapped with clock-like regularity against 
his palm.

"Take off your clothes, Carolyn." He repeated as he dropped the loose 
end of the long whip and laced it across the floor, making it 
serpentine with soft scraping noises against the waxed gray tile. 
Suddenly he pulled the handle back and flicked the lash around her 
ankle with a jerk. She fumbled for her balance and grabbed at the 
counter for support. The whip coiled around her ankle like a steel 
snake, leaving a red brand wherever it touched, a brand that ran thick 
red blood and dripped upon the clean tile.

"Next time," he said ominously, loosening the whip lash with a quick 
motion of his wrist, "next time ... higher."

Carolyn bit her lip to keep from crying out. There was a band of fire 
about her ankle and she could feel the warm drops pulsing out and 
puddling on the floor. Surely he had known her resistance was only 
token. She knew, more important he knew, she had admitted defeat the 
day she had watched those terrible films. Jason took advantage of every 
opportunity to nurture his cruel appetites. Carolyn refused to cry out 
with the pain. She refused to allow him that pleasure ... and she began 
to unbutton the blue dress.


Chapter Five


Jason watched her every move. The whip laces hanging loose at his side, 
his eyes searched each curve as it peeked out of the opening front of 
her dress. When the last button hung open, she shook her shoulders free 
of the material. It hung up momentarily on the high thrust of her firm 
young breasts, then slid down over her hips to the floor. Carolyn bent 
over and picked it up, looked about and carefully laid it over the back 
of a near chair. Jason watched the fat twin breasts swing against her 
body as she moved. Just watching their pendulous action brought twinges 
to his loins and he rubbed the handle of the whip thoughtfully against 
his crotch.

"Bra and pants too," Jason prompted viciously.

Carolyn slid her thumbs beneath the panties elastic band and slowly, 
hopelessly, slid them down over the curve of her hips. Jason watched 
the fluffy curls rise over the horizon of the sinking panties. He was 
tempted ... tempted to strap this girl to the dog stanchion and bury 
his mouth in the damp furry nest between her legs. She was unhooking 
the bra now, letting the heavy globes escape. Beautiful! The full firm 
mounds hung like sweet ripe fruit from her chest ... beautiful. He 
reached out and cupped his hand, weighing the smooth plump goodness in 
his grip and rolling the nipple stem between his thumb and forefinger. 
It hardened noticeably beneath his educated touch. She quivered under 
his hand and tried to pull away. Her face said she was frightened and 
Jason liked that.

He laid the whip down on the counter and pressed her back up against 
the wall. One hand squeezed a breast hard, too hard, while the other 
snaked across the pale ivory skin of her flat stomach and buried itself 
in the brown curls between her legs. His face was a scarce inch from 
hers, his mouth hovering over her full lips like a vulture descending 
on a dying animal. He could feel the dampness of the fur-covered lips 
below, warm and wet about his other finger, as the tight-clamped little 
slit pressed back against the wall trying to escape the probing hand, 
holding itself shut to exclude the unwelcome invader. His lips came 
closer and brushed lightly across hers, his tongue wetting her fear-
dried flesh, softening them in case she willingly decided to ...

It was a temptation ... but the thought of this haughty woman cringing 
beneath his dogs as she watched their dripping jowls and their eager 
organs jutting out ... no he would wait to taste her sweetness after 
the dogs had humbled her, after the dogs had humped her pride into the 
ground and she had begged him for relief. Wasn't this, after all, the 
best way to handle women? Make them beg, make them know they were less 
than the animals which used them? Let the dogs know their pleasures, 
let the dogs wet the bitch's trough. When she had known the depths to 
which she could be forced, when she could sink no lower in her own 
mind, then he would allow her the privilege of redeeming herself upon 
his body. Then ... and only then.

* * *

He pulled his finger from the damp well of her body, took his tongue 
from her tight lips and stood back. There was disgust in his eyes. She 
was only another woman. Why should he give her the pleasure of his 
attentions? No woman ever cared for him!

Jason taunted himself often with the fantasies of his tormented mind. 
Until he had found 'the dogs' and made them great, no one had known of 
him! He had been a lonely and much maligned gigolo, the handsome 
imported husband of a fat, rich and very ugly widow. She had been but 
the last of many such women who paid for his attention with the 
insurance premiums of hard-working husbands. Paid-for passion, that's 
what he offered. The envied escort, a charming companion, a sympathetic 
ear in the night ... the night, the dreaded darkness when he paid for 
the daylight luxuries with whispered lies, reluctant hands upon 
dissipated bodies, and the drugs which whipped his rebellious penis 
into shape for the plunge into the soft soggy depths of their ancient 
stinking cunts! He had been made to feel like dirt, but that was over. 
Now he was the Master, and the Master he would remain!

He picked up the whip from the counter and began the endless slap-
slapping against his leg. Jason Benson scarcely felt the light blows, 
yet it was whipping his mind into a frenzy. He knew what was happening 
to him. He wanted it to happen. He needed to be lashed into excitement 
... for the years, the long tedious years of servitude to lonely old 
women had taken its toll. He craved the cry of a woman punished. He 
needed complete degradation of a woman, absolute domination over her 
before his lethargic penis would react and feel life. He looked at the 
bit of white cloth on the floor at his feet, the bra which kept those 
beautiful breasts from his sight and he smiled his cold hating smile.

Carolyn shuddered inwardly at the sight of his icy smile. Jason sensed 
her discomfort and wallowed in it. Perhaps he could turn the knife in 
her guts.

"It has always been my theory," he began in the clinical tone which 
severed his mind from his acts of debauchery, "that the human mind is 
highly inconsistent in its relationships with animals."

He backed Carolyn into the corner again with slow deliberate steps and 
once more stood spread-legged blocking the only way to freedom. She 
knew there would be no freedom for her, ever again. Even if she were to 
escape from this mad house she could never wash away the terrible 
memory of what she had done ... or what she would yet be forced to do. 
She stood naked before this man and his whip, staring at the floor, 
expressionless, trembling with tension, numb with fear.

"Man subdued the boar to savor its flesh," Jason continued, stimulated 
by her submission, intent upon her demise. "He tamed the wild horse for 
transportation, made him docile and rode him for pleasure. For 
centuries we've taken sustenance from the cow and the goat. Every 
school child knows the pleasure of a pet. Don't you see, he has used 
animals for centuries, used them in every way except the one function 
which is most vital!"

Carolyn didn't see. She stood bare and bewildered before his tirade, 
her head down, appearing hardly more than a domesticated beast of the 
field herself.

"Man is so damnably inconsistent! He's so caught up in his own web of 
golden rules that he cannot see the pleasures for all the puny 
penalties that warp his existence! Medical science has proven beyond 
doubt that the end-all motivation of mankind is sex. SEX!"

"Hey, you're playing my song," came the flip reply from the open 
doorway. Mario leaned against the sill, arms folded across his chest 
and let his dark eyes roam Carolyn's naked body. "Sex is my favorite 
meal."

Carolyn didn't have to look up to know his lustful eyes were devouring 
her body. The red flush of embarrassment tinted her pale flesh.

"Now, don't you go blushing for me, baby," Mario teased, "There ain't 
nuthin' I like more than a pretty girl, specially when they're bare ass 
naked and full of all that motivation jazz the boss man was talking 
about."

Jason looked reprovingly at his young assistant. That was the trouble 
with youth, he though they hadn't the experience nor the patience to 
fully enjoy the sophistications of true eroticism. Hard cocks and soft 
brains, what a wasteful combination, he thought.

"I was trying to explain to Carolyn about the psychological aspects of 
using animals for sexual pleasure," Jason began, disgust edging his 
voice.

"Psych, smych!" Mario grinned, "Let's get down to the fuckin'!"

"Your intelligence is only exceeded by your tact, Mario," Jason said 
insultingly. Some day he would lose all patience and use the dog whip 
on that stupid boy. If he didn't need him, he could think of a lot of 
clever innovations for Mario, but unfortunately he did need him. "I was 
about to show Carolyn the advantages of bottle feeding our dogs, and 
..."

"... and you wanted me to demonstrate on, right?"

"That's right," Jason agreed coldly. "It's time Carolyn learned to 
understand ... and appreciate ... what we do here in the lab."

"Oh, she's gonna appreciate it," Mario chuckled and walked over to 
stand within easy reach of the girl. He made a great show of unzipping 
his pants fly and fumbling around in the tight pants before hauling out 
his long limp penis. He grinned at the girl and wiggled it at her. 
"Aren't ya, baby doll? That hot little puss of yours really appreciates 
it. You goddam near drowned me with appreciation before ya got the 
fuzzy thing fucked off!"

Mario grinned as he saw the girl flush even darker at his words. Maybe 
he wasn't so suave as the famous Jason Benson, he thought, but the 
girls liked his youthful good looks and got hotter'n pistols when he 
talked plain sex at 'em and hung his dong out to dry before their 
startled eyes. He skinned it back and began the slow systematic massage 
which coaxed the long organ to life. Up and down, up and down.

"S'better than having a cocksuckin' girlfriend, or in your case," he 
nodded to Carolyn, "a breast fed boyfriend, cause there's eight or ten 
pups to a litter and they all gotta be fed! Good thing I got a long 
cock or it'd be a nubbin by now."

Carolyn's eyes widened as she looked at him. He surely couldn't mean 
what he was insinuating. He was just trying to upset her. It was 
childish, like a little boy putting worms down your back ... childish, 
like a young man flaunting his stiff penis before you. She watched him 
playing with it. He would shape his hand around the pole, slide it out 
to the end and back, skinning the head clean, then he would take his 
thumb and rub back and forth across the coronal ridge. Carolyn could 
see the pink beast moving in his hand like a thing alive. It seemed 
alive. Each careful stroke increased its growth with frightening 
regularity. She could see a small drop of fluid ooze from its fat head 
and drop to the floor.

"I'm about ready, boss," Mario said quietly to the older man.

Jason nodded and walked over to the cage area. He looked up and down 
the line of wire kennels, pursed his lips in indecision and frowned.

"How about Bravo?" Mario suggested. "He's got a soft mouth like a 
girl."

Jason shrugged his shoulders, picked up a choke chain from a rack of 
many, and walked to the third cage. The big fawn-colored dog rose to 
his feet and danced about anxiously. Jason unlocked the cage, slipped 
the noose around his great head, and led him back to where Mario 
waited.

"Sit, Bravo, sit." Jason said sternly. "It's been several days since 
he's been exercised this way. Would you rather prelim him on the girl?" 
Mario looked at Carolyn and grinned.

"You wanna break him in today, baby?" he asked.

Carolyn's eyes grew wider with fear and she pressed hard into the 
corner, her hands crossed before the nest of brown curls at her crotch. 
Mario grinned even wider.

"No? All right, I'll use him first. Tell ya what, though, I think I'll 
wet it down with cunt first. Never heard of no dog ever biting a cunt-
soaked cock."

Mario walked to the canvas-covered table in the center of the room and 
pulled the cloth from its lines. Carolyn's wide eyes followed his every 
move. She noticed the table before, but an examining table in a 
hospital area, even for dogs, was hardly unusual. But this table was 
very unusual. She looked at it anxiously. It resembled the hourglass 
shape of a human body with low stirrups at one end and to the sides. 
Several sets of woven straps with great silver buckles hung from its 
sides. The plastic table itself, perhaps an inch thick, was supported 
by three hydraulic lifts. It reminded her of the service station racks 
which raised and lowered cars for servicing. Servicing! She shivered. 
She could guess its use.

Jason stood to one side and gestured for Carolyn to move out of the 
comer and join Mario at the table. She couldn't move; fear had fastened 
her to the ground. She trembled where she stood. Jason tapped the whip 
impatiently against his leg. Mario stood by the table, casually jacking 
up his big penis and watching the by-play. It amused him to watch the 
'Big Man' whip himself into a fury. It was quite a hang-up he had, 
couldn't get a hard on until he had brought a woman to her knees one 
way or the other. If it wasn't the whip, it was the dogs. Mario 
shrugged. He could wait. Sometimes it was stimulating to see Jason whip 
the new ones. He was a real master with the coil. Mario leaned back 
against the table, his hand still caressing the cock he held. He could 
wait. It wouldn't take long.

And it didn't. When the girl didn't move at his first command, Jason 
snaked the whip behind him and snapped it out with a turn of his wrist. 
The slim tip flicked across the pink tip of Carolyn's bare breast, 
biting a two inch cut into the soft flesh just above the fat little 
tit.

"The table, Carolyn," Jason's voice sliced the silence as deftly as his 
leather whip had twice spilled her blood.

She looked down at the thin red line across her breast and watched the 
thick drops that welled from its length and ran slowly down her side. 
This wasn't happening to her, it wasn't, it wasn't. Numbly, she walked 
toward the table. As she passed the dog who had sat through it all, he 
leaned his thick neck out and lapped at the drops which painted lines 
down her leg. Dazed, she hardly noticed.

Mario watched her walk slowly toward him like a windup doll that 
falters with each step. He let his eyes slide down her bare figure, 
pausing at the points of his own particular interest. As he studied the 
thick brown mat of hair between her legs, he felt his own body respond. 
His long penis was getting fat now, well fed and heavy. He took it in 
his hand, aimed the bold head at Carolyn like a bloody spear, and 
slowly rubbed the corona with his thumb. As she reached the table's 
end, Mario made a grand bow and gestured with his free hand toward the 
table top. Numbly, she watched as he pressed a button beneath the 
table's edge and lowered it to a level she could easily reach. His free 
hand pressed her down and she felt the cool plastic give beneath her 
weight, shaping itself to her curves, wrapping up around her and 
holding her comfortably firm in its grip.

Mario dropped the fat organ in his hand and pressed her shoulders down 
with both hands so that the soft woven straps would fasten easily. As 
he cinched the buckle down across her chest, the girl seemed to get 
control of her mind and began to struggle.

"What are you doing?" she yelled. "Don't tie me down. Oh, don't! Please 
don't!"

Her forehead was damp with the cold sweat of fear. What in heaven were 
they doing? She could hear Mario's suddenly excited breathing. Jason 
had walked to the other side of the table and was fastening her other 
arm securely, bending it at the elbow and buckling the straps to 
something beneath the table, forcing her arms back so the pectoral 
muscles pulled the big breasts high and made them firm to the touch. 
Her aims hurt at the sockets from the backward pressure and she winced 
as he pulled the strap tighter and tighter. She lashed out with her 
legs, trying to kick these human leeches from her tortured body, but 
the two men only laughed. Each grabbed an ankle and forced her feet 
into the side stirrups and fastened the band across her instep and 
behind her heels. If she could only get her feet loose now, she could 
reach them reach them both, but the straining muscles failed to pull 
her feet free. Panting, her muscles aching from frantic efforts to free 
her body, Carolyn finally admitted defeat and lay panting and quiet 
upon the table which cupped her body like a non-skid nest.

The two men stood over her looking down and each in their own way 
enjoying her helplessness. Mario rocked back and forth like a cobra 
swaying and ready to strike, his blood-fattened penis flopping lazily 
from the gaping pants' fly. He knew Carolyn's eyes were fastened on it 
in frozen agony. At first he stood hands on hips letting the heavy head 
bounce lewdly against her bare flesh. He watched the wet spots dot the 
girl's body, watched with delight as she tried to strain against the 
straps and pull her body away from its touch but the binding straps 
held fast. His smile grew broader and he ran his stiff pointed tongue 
back and forth across the white ridges of his teeth. He could feel the 
pressure building inside his cock. The slap-slap of its heavy head 
against her naked skin was stimulating the need to squirt his juice. If 
he didn't stop soon, it would be too late and he would wash her pink 
nipples with sperm. Not yet, not yet ... he wanted to do things to this 
pretty she-bitch, lots of things ... it wasn't time to flood her guts 
yet. He pulled away from the table and winked at her wide staring eyes.

"Later, baby doll," he spoke softly, pursing his lips as if mimicking 
her pouting mouth. "Daddy's gotta feed the doggies first. The big boss 
man wanted you to see how good we train our canine compadres. You watch 
now, you watch good, cause pretty soon I'm gonna let you see if you can 
do it as good as the dogs can."

He grinned lewdly down at her for a moment, then snapped his fingers at 
the dog.

"Ready, boy?" he asked the prancing dog, "Sit! Sit there just another 
goddamn minute while I soak it up juicy for you."

Carolyn watched with horrified eyes as the slim young man patted the 
dog on the head, then walked to the foot of the table to which she was 
strapped and pressed her legs even farther apart. He patted the furry 
little pad between her thighs and pulled the puffy lips apart with his 
thumbs.

"Hey, there it is," he whispered hoarsely, "such a cute little pink 
cubbyhole too."

He leaned his body forward until the hot shiny head of his penis rested 
against the pink slit of her crotch. He frowned briefly and leaned over 
to press the button just under the plastic edge beside Carolyn's hips. 
There was a soft hum and the platform raised up an inch or two. His 
stiff organ poked at the little opening, between her legs. He smiled. 
It was just right. He put his warm wet palms on her white flesh and 
massaged, pressing and kneading the unwilling body, and all the while 
knocking at the door of her pussy palace with his blood-red cock. Small 
drops of lubrication welled out its fat tip and wet the tender lips. 
Now the oversized organ slid more easily. He pressed forward and it 
popped inside with a wet slurping sound ... and he heaved himself hard 
into her body, burying the shaft deep in her guts.
"Aaahhhhhrrrggg," he groaned loudly, "You're strangling him in that 
tight little hole. F'god sakes, let go some juice and wet it up a 
little!" He pulled it back experimentally.

"Jesus!" He slid it in gingerly and winced. "What the hell makes you so 
tight? You could a'swallowed a shetland pony the other night you were 
so fuckin' wet!"

"Perhaps she was," Jason growled with exasperation as the boy hung up 
in the woman's dry box, "but the King had made her hot first."

"You saying I can't get a woman hot," Mario spat at him, "that what 
you're saying???"

"You were the one complaining, as I recall, not the dog."
"Why you dirty son of a bitch ..."

The whip in Jason's hand cracked loudly and the blood spurted from a 
gash on Mario's cheek. Hell burned in Jason's angry eyes.

"Don't ... you ... ever ... say a thing like that to me again!"

"Okay, okay," Mario backed down, "I didn't mean anything by it, fer 
Christ sake."
"I called you down here to demonstrate ... not to make a fool of 
yourself." Jason reprimanded. "Now, DEMONSTRATE."

"Alright, ALRIGHT." Mario pulled his long hard penis slowly from 
between the girl's legs. It popped free with a loud sucking sound and 
Carolyn moaned with relief.

"Stand beside the girl," Jason directed impatiently, "NO, stupid, not 
beside me, beside the girl! I want her to see how gentle my boys are 
... how talented ... how effective."

"Aawwww, I don't wanna go all the way," complained the disgruntled 
Mario, "can't I finish up on the girl?"
"There will be plenty of time for that later."

Mario breathed heavily out through his nose and set his feet firmly 
apart, one hand on the table to steady himself. He snapped his fingers 
at the prancing dog.

"Here, Bravo," he called out to the dog, "Suck, boy, suck."

The dog scrambled across the tile floor and stopped before the waiting 
man, his tail flailing the floor frantically, his tongue dropping with 
anticipation.

"Easy, Bravo," Mario cautioned, his hand grasping the dog's snout and 
holding it shut, "EASY, I said." The dog quieted down a little. "Now, 
sit. That's a good boy."

Mario grasped his long wagging cook from each side with a restraining 
thumb and forefinger and held it rigidly upright. The dog whined. Mario 
wriggled the pink pole before the dog teasingly. The animal stretched 
his thick neck as far forward as he could and sniffed at the fat cock. 
Mario flinched as the cold black nose touched his warm prick and the 
hot air of the dog's excited breath tickled its tip. He held the cock 
in his fingers and waved it in front of the dog's mouth. The long 
tongue lashed out and licked at the human lollypop, flavored with its 
musky scent of a woman in heat. It was faint, the heady scent of 
female, faint but it was there ... and the dog was noticeably excited. 
His long thick tongue lapped the underside of Mario's waiting organ 
with long slow swipes. Mario's reaction was one of instant pleasure. He 
pushed his loins outward, bowing his body toward the anxious dog who 
responded with eager tongue. Mario closed his eyes and chewed on his 
lower lip.

Carolyn turned her face away from the scene of debauchery taking place 
less then three feet from her face. Jason watched her reaction 
carefully. He had expected the sight of a full grown man deliberately 
stimulated by the dog's dripping tongue would have, at the very least, 
a lethal fascination. He took the leather wrapped handle of the dog 
whip in his hand and pushed Carolyn's face back toward Mario and the 
dog.

"Watch them," he ordered harshly, "you must learn how these things are 
done."

Carolyn watched. There was nothing else she could do. She watched 
Mario's fingers subtly manipulate the firm flesh at the base of his 
excited organ. She watched the intricate licking motions of the big 
dog's tongue as it wiped the length of the sensitive lower side of the 
man's penis and then curled over the damp end. Mario gently poked at 
the huge dog's mouth with the end of his cock. Each time the long 
tongue would lash out, he pushed the fat head at the dog's mouth. The 
fourth time he probed forward, the animal seemed to understand what was 
expected of him and his rough red tongue wrapped itself around the 
man's penis and seemed to hold it motionless in his hot mouth. Carolyn 
was fascinated with the terrible scene taking place within reach of her 
hand. The gaunt animal held Mario's stiff cock in his mouth as if he 
were retrieving a bird from the field. Mario was breathing rapidly now; 
his eyes half-closed, his lips open and straining hard against his 
teeth.

"Suck, Bravo," he crooned to the dog at his loins, "that's it, boy. Oh, 
that's good. Good dog. A little more, just a little more ... NOW!"

Mario thrust his moving hips hard forward and the long stiff penis slid 
over the curved tongue and deep into the dog's open jaws.

"SUCK, BOY, SUCK IT HARD!" He ordered in a loud firm voice, then smiled 
lewdly as his command was rewarded with watery sucking sounds from the 
dog's half open mouth.

Carolyn watched in horror as the dog's thick rough tongue rubbed 
rapidly back and forth under Mario's jerking cock. Sometimes she could 
see the heavy headed penis squirting its white sperm onto the dog's 
willing tongue. She was sure she was going to be ill again, but she 
could not tear her eyes from the animal orgy at her side. Jason's 
strong hand held her head so she was forced to watch. She tried to 
close her eyes but she couldn't. Her skin was flushed with shame, 
heated by the outrage which roared in her mind. The dog's attempt at 
sucking reminded her of thirsty animals sucking up water from an open 
gutter. Perverse pleasures, inconceivable depravity, this was the 
gutter of mankind ... and sooner or later, Carolyn knew she too must 
wade through the contaminated gutters of this madman's mind.

Jason's pleasure twisted face never left the girl's body. The 
expressions of grim horror on the girl's face stirred life in his 
dormant loins. Small tremors of pleasure played hide and seek between 
his legs and slid up and down his awakening prod. He watched her 
helpless body for every ... for any ... reaction. He heard Mario's 
first crude grunts of gratification before he was rewarded with the 
subtle response of the girl's open crotch. Her legs splayed far apart 
by the restraining straps, the plush lips of her vagina spread wide, 
Jason could look into the open mouth of her bitch's body. As she 
watched the jerking cock spew out its tasty reward into the dog's 
mouth, the fat pink lips contracted too ... squeezing together, 
clamping tight shut around the imagined organ poking at her vitals, 
milking it into the fire of her own loins. Spread-eagled before Jason, 
her ivory buttocks opened for his eager eyes. The cheeks of her firm 
little ass closed over the wrinkled round hole. Closed and relaxed. 
Closed and released. As Mario groaned his soul away, Jason watched 
several drops of thick liquid trickle from between the hairy lips and 
grow sticky in the crease of her buttocks.

Jason smiled and nodded. Good. Very good. She was actively stimulated, 
then, by Mario's performance with the dog. That meant the sweet musky 
smell of her oozing vagina would be strong enough to attract the dogs. 
He looked down the line of cages. Every dog was on his feet, pacing 
back and forth nervously, tongues dripping saliva, their red, pointed 
cocks sliding out of their sheaths. Yes, they sensed the bitch in heat. 
He sniffed the air. He couldn't smell it. He never could. But they did! 
The dogs could always smell a warm cunt. He smiled obscenely and 
scratched his crotch. He had planned to start her with a dog at each 
breast, licking the small pink nipples into swollen leaking tits ... 
but the dogs were excited. He watched them pace frantically in the 
confining cages, their heavy cocks swollen out of their hairy holsters 
and swaying loosely under their bellies. Perhaps he should reconsider.

He looked down at the parted pink lips, the swollen button of her 
clitoris ... she was ready for his dogs. He smiled. It would be double 
exciting. She didn't understand that the abject horror had triggered 
her own sexual responses. It would be no more than a matter of minutes 
before the dogs would have her thrashing about, reveling in her own 
sensuality, pleading for the feel of their giant pointed pricks rushing 
up her guts. And he would make her plead. He would make her beg!

His groin throbbed with the pleasure-pains of sexual need. The dogs 
were ready ... and so was he.


Chapter Six


Carolyn watched in grim despair as Jason Benson wrestled the enormous 
Great Dane out of his cage and into the sturdy choke chain which 
afforded only a meager means of control as he jumped and pawed and slid 
on the slick tile floor.

She strained frantically at the wide straps which buckled her body 
immobile upon the molded contours of the dog stanchion, but it was 
hopeless. The tight bands held her motionless. She raised her head and 
looked down. One strap crossed her chest and pulled firmly under her 
arms, a second strap was cinched tight across her lower abdomen and 
buckled down over her hips. With every ounce of strength in her 
frightened body, Carolyn strained to free herself. Nothing moved except 
the bulge of muscles across her stomach and shoulders, pulling until 
they screamed She was totally helpless ... unless ... if her hands were 
free? ... again she tensed and tried desperately to pull her wrists 
free but the snare held firm. Was there no way to stop this awful man, 
this human beast whose monstrous appetites matched those of the animals 
he served? No way. No way. Carolyn closed her eyes and let her head 
fall back on the table with a thump. She could hear the scratching of 
the dog's paws upon the tile and knew he was coming nearer and nearer. 
Her head rolled from side to side hopelessly. No, oh dear God, NO!
"Now don't you go to frettin' over there."

Through the blue haze of near shock, Carolyn heard Mario's teasing 
voice above the sound of running water.

"I'll come hold your hand just as soon as I get my little friend here 
washed off." Mario called to her across the room. "Bravo's got a damn 
good mouth on him but he gets a little messy sometimes."

Mario chuckled lewdly from his place at the low sink.

"He's not neat like you were the other night. Why, it was a real 
pleasure to service you seein' as how you cleaned it all up after your 
dinner."

Carolyn squeezed her eyes tighter shut as if shutting out the sound of 
his obscene comments. How could he, how could anyone be so ugly?

"Now, the King ... you remember the King, don't cha baby? ... he cleans 
up real well after himself." His comments came across the room loud and 
clear as he turned off the faucet and rolled his wet penis in the 
towel. "Mannnn, you two were something else!"

"Oh, shut up, SHUT UP!" Carolyn screamed at the loathsome little man. 
"Just ... shut up ... OHHHH!"

Carolyn gasped suddenly. Her eyes snapped open. She lifted her head up 
as high as the restraining bonds permitted and stared in horror between 
her splayed legs. Bound to the stanchion stirrups, her legs were forced 
as far apart as the stretched tendons would allow and bent almost 
double like a grasshopper ready to spring away in retreat. Only Carolyn 
couldn't retreat from the massive head which peered down at her through 
the V-spread of her legs.

His cold wet nose poked first at one bare thigh and then the other, 
sniffing at the man-scented dots where Mario's leaking penis had 
bounced only moments before. The Dane licked speculatively at her 
thighs. Carolyn pressed her knees outward until the muscles ached. It 
was the only part of her pinioned body that she could move ... her 
knees ... and she strove frantically to press them away from the cold 
probing nose of the beast at her loins. The effort was a vain one for 
the dog's head followed the scant inches of her move with little 
effort. She fluttered her knees back and forth, hoping to discourage 
his eager sniffing, but the movement only caused her splayed lips to 
part and the hot scent of her woman hole rose to the dog's snuffling 
nose. Instantly, he stopped the inspection of the faint scented flesh 
and licked his muzzle and whined softly.

Carolyn winced beneath his warm breath as the dog panted over her open 
body. The muscles in her neck had begun to cramp. The strain of holding 
up her head was too great and she finally let it fall back against the 
plastic table. She knew it was better that she didn't watch the beastly 
rape of her tender body, but it was like not watching the executioner's 
ax. She closed her eyes tight and clamped her teeth and waited.

Jason stood at the great dog's side, loosely holding the choke chain, 
his eyes glued to the exquisite expressions of horror which distorted 
her pretty face. The dog's cold nose poked at the brown curls and 
Carolyn's face contorted pitifully. Jason could feel the thrill streaks 
rushing through his body as he watched the mental anguish twist the 
girl's face into ugly caricatures. He dropped the slack chain from his 
hand and slowly rubbed both palms up and down over his groin. One hand 
passed back and forth over the growing lump of his awakening organ. He 
pressed down with his hands, encouraging the growth of the reluctant 
beast in his britches. It was slow to come, but he didn't mind. As the 
dog warmed up the bitch, he too would warm with need. There was plenty 
of time, plenty of time. He let his eyes slide slowly down over her 
plastic prison and paused to watch the burly animal which hunkered over 
her trembling cunt. The dog was poking at the open hole now with his 
wet snuffling noise. Jason could see the girl wince each time the 
animal prodded at the opening. Wait till he began to lick that exposed 
little button. He couldn't wait to see the expression on her face then. 
He rubbed harder at the tingling bump in his pants ... and waited.

Mario watched Jason's distorted leer. What a weirdo, he thought. Hell, 
everybody likes a piece of wet tail. Most everybody wants the musky 
lingering taste of pussy in their mouth after the screwin' is done. But 
not this guy. He shook his head and watched his employer's growing 
excitement. He's gotta scratch his kicks out of the dirt. Just look at 
him, Mario thought, he ain't interested in watching the dog lick her 
pussy. He ain't watching the dog's big prick oozing out of its hole and 
getting itself ready. Hell, he ain't even looking at her tits. Got a 
couple of bolts loose somewhere. Gotta be. All he cares about is 
watching the girl's face and seeing her suffer. He's fuckin' the kid's 
soul, that's what he's doing, fuckin' her goddamn soul! Mario shook his 
head and walked to the side of the stanchion where he could look down 
at the girl. To each their own, but he'd rather get in on the action.

"Feel good, baby?" he asked, the faint smile of perversity flicking up 
the corners of his mouth. "Feel good yet? It won't take long once he 
starts licking that pretty little pussy of yours."

Mario looked down at the breadth of the dog's great head nuzzling 
between the girl's legs and watched as the wide pink tongue lapped out 
and over his dark muzzle.

"Lick the pretty lady, Nero, lick, lick," he crooned quietly to the 
dog. "Get 'er turned on like old King did and you'll have yourself hung 
up on a real bitching screw!"

He laughed at his joke a real 'bitch-ing' screw - that's all the women 
were to Jason's dogs, just another bitch in heat. They all smelled like 
fuckin'. What the hell difference did it make to an animal? If they 
smelled right and had a hole to fit around their dog-knot, they got it 
buried in 'em clear up to the gonads. He watched as the dog licked 
experimentally at the ragged pink hole. Absentmindedly he rested one 
hand on Carolyn's breast and began to roll the small pink nipple 
between his thumb and forefinger. His eyes were on the dog's thick 
tongue as it explored the outer crevices of her succulent body. Now and 
then, his own tongue poked out of its cave and darted back and forth 
between his lips. He seemed oblivious to the nipple which grew firm and 
tight between his rolling fingers. Mario's eyes were on the furry 
tongue which lapped relentlessly at the woman's open crotch. It was 
heating up despite her mental damnations. He knew because he could 
catch the subtle scent of her juices. He knew the odor well. Mario 
breathed deep and patted the near-limp penis which still hung from his 
open fly, washed clean, but resting from Bravo's canine ministrations. 
His time would come again. No hurry. He enjoyed the sensual sight of a 
woman licked into the furies of passion-whether it was one of Jason's 
dogs doing the honors or a man at her crotch-it was a sexy sight that 
could stir up a dead man's dong. Specially when the gal wasn't willing.

There was something about the dogs raping a woman and making her like 
it that bloody well set off his alarm. He leaned over a little to get a 
better view of the girl's stubby little clitoris. Yeah, it WAS standin' 
up already. Goddamn, ya had to give the dogs credit where credit was 
due - they could sure fuzzy up a cold cunt with those rough tongues of 
theirs. Mario abstractly ran his tongue flat against the roof of his 
mouth, trying to feel its texture. Too bad he didn't have a sandpaper 
tongue the way he liked to eat hot pussy. He'd drive 'em out of their 
everlovin' gourds! He glanced at Jason. His eyes were still on the 
girl's face, and he was panting in short gasps of air. Mario grinned 
and looked at the girl.

Carolyn's eyes were closed. Her head no longer rocked from side to 
side. She was motionless except for an occasional contraction of 
swallowing in her throat and the incessant chewing on her lower lip. 
There were small pearls of cold sweat dancing on her forehead. Beneath 
the plastic nest of the table, her fingers knotted into tight white 
fists and laid tense in their prison bonds.

She could feel the repeated flurries of hot breath against the tender 
flesh of her exposed body. The wet cold nose poked in and around the 
upper edge of her slit, prodding the unwilling nubbin to life. How do 
you stop the idiot thing from getting hard? How, she screamed silently 
in her mind, how? It was beginning to swell. The rough tongue was 
forcing life into the susceptible slit no matter how hard she tried to 
control it. She clamped her jaw tight and prayed the dog wouldn't get 
carried away with himself and bite. She would bleed to death. The pain 
... and the pain would be unbearable. It would start any minute, she 
was certain, and it would be unbearable. But there was no pain. The 
long thick abrasive tongue rubbed at her private parts and the soft 
full lips of her vagina purred happily in response.

Little by little, the muscles became less tense. If anyone had been 
watching, they would have seen her straining body sink slowly, slowly, 
into the molded depths of the plastic stanchion. The grasshopper legs 
softened their rigid discipline and gradually, hardly noticeably, 
opened to admit the width of the animal's massive skull. The heavy 
muzzle pressed against the soft pink blossom of her body and let the 
long supple tongue work at the open slit, sliding in to taste the first 
wines of her growing need. Carolyn sucked in a deep breath as the 
tongue searched deeper, twisting and turning in her woman hole as it 
would search for the last marrow in a bone. The rough surface seemed to 
adhere and cling to her. It felt like the educated tongue of the great 
dog was coaxing her insides to come out and play where he could get to 
them and massage them into passionate submission. She breathed heavily, 
her full lips parted and damp, her tongue licking now and then around 
her moist lips.

She could not move away from the dog's tireless tongue. Yet she knew 
she must or, god forgive her, she would behave disgracefully ... she 
would cum! She would pour the drops of her disgrace freely from her 
body. That terrible dog's insatiable tongue would call forth a climax 
that she could not stop. His knowing tongue would bury itself in her 
dark passage and she knew she would cum. She knew she would be unable 
to stop. And she would squeeze out the scant teaspoon of body wine and 
wet his tongue ... and she would never, never be able to forgive 
herself for her own weaknesses.

It was a weakness of the flesh. That was all, she tried to placate her 
wounded pride, even the Bible spoke of the sins of the flesh and of the 
saintly men who fell prey to them. It was a sordid weakness of the 
flesh. But it wasn't Carolyn knew, it wasn't because she was enjoying 
it, ENJOYING IT! Breathing hard, trying to hold back, Carolyn opened 
her eyes and stared wildly up at the two men who watched and waited to 
see her fall into hell. Her eyes pleaded with them - take it away, take 
that awful animal away, take it away before I weaken! Please! PLEASE! 
But the cruel faces gloated over her and smiled, each in his own way 
enjoying her descent into depravity.

"Feels good like I said," Mario tormented, "Doesn't it feel good?"

He leaned over her body and brushed his lips across each nipple, 
licking it first as the dog licked her scented cunt, then biting the 
hard little bauble. He laughed as the girl winced with pain.

"By the time Nero has shoved his big john in ya, ya won't even notice a 
little love bite like that." Mario poised his open lips a few inches 
above Carolyn's. He stuck his pointed tongue out and wriggled it at 
her. Carolyn continued to breathe heavily through her parted lips. 
Slowly, the dog sank down burying his stiff little tongue as deeply as 
possible in her warm mouth. It wriggled there, hot and trembling, 
reaching deep into her mouth and tickling. "That's how old Nero's big 
jock's gonna tickle your guts, baby, only it'll feel like a $1.98 roll 
of baloney. It'll feel four inches through!"

He ran his wet tongue across her dry lips, then probed for the touch of 
her tongue. He sucked at it, trying to pull it up into his mouth, but 
Carolyn avoided the bait.

"Stick it out, baby," he threatened, "before I belt ya!"

Reluctantly, the pink tip rose from her mouth and Mario fell upon it 
hungrily. His hot mouth sucked the tender tidbit, harder and harder 
until she could resist the pressure no longer and went limp beneath his 
mouth. Mario sucked the pink lollypop with a voracious hunger until he 
sensed the approaching climax in her heated loins. He released the 
sensitive flesh of her mouth and raised up to watch her fall to her 
canine lover.
Jason knew the struggle which had racked her soul. He recognized the 
sensual scent which had begun to waft up from her opened crotch. He 
knew her time was near. The dog sensed the rising excitement in the 
bitch's body and he licked enthusiastically, never seeming to weary of 
the game they played. Jason stepped back and looked beneath the 
animal's belly where the heavy head of his huge cock hung loose and 
ready. Its savage size made to look even more vicious as it slid in and 
out of its hairy sheath, poised for attack. A man's cock looked tame 
next to Nero's fat ten-inch billy club with its hard pointed tip 
dripping and gesturing.

Jason smiled with anticipation. The girl was already responding to the 
dog's tongue. She was beginning to enjoy it. But what he waited for was 
yet to come. He was waiting for the big brute to ram the huge prick 
into her belly all the way like dogs did - HARD! - and without the 
human frailty of being gentle. All he had to do was let Nero know the 
bitch was his, and he would bury his monstrous bone so deep in the 
woman's guts it would make her scream with pain. That's what Jason 
Benson waited for ... let the bitch howl! Nero would pump her so hard 
and fast she would beg him to pull the dog off. He leaned over and 
picked up the choke chain in one hand and toyed with it ... only he 
wouldn't pull the dog off. He wanted to watch him jab her with that 
great pointed prick until she bled! He looked at her stomach. She was 
short coupled. If Nero buried it deep, it would dig holes in her filthy 
female cunt. And served her right. Women were no goddamn good. Jason 
was the Master here. Jason would call the plays.

"Nero," he said sharply to the bobbing head of the dog between the 
girl's legs, "Go get her boy, fuck her. Fuck her, Nero, fuck her!"

Mario looked at his employer with amusement. There was a big wet stain 
on Jason's gray slacks and a small bulge behind it calling attention to 
his indiscretion. But that was Jason's problem. His own dong was 
standing at attention, wet and willing, and when Nero had ripped her 
into shreds of passion, he would reap the wild oats. He watched the big 
dog raise up and fix his feet on the carpeted supports on either side 
of the plastic nest, straddling the girl, his eager haunches poking its 
great spear at the girl's crotch. What a cock, Mario thought, goddamn 
him, what a cock!

Nero poked frantically between the girl's parted legs, the hard point 
of his penis jabbing into the tender skin here and there, but Carolyn's 
climax had begun. She was scarcely conscious of the huge animal who was 
trying to bury himself in her hole. The first tingles of her orgasm 
spread through her helpless body like ripples on a pond, each one 
following the other, shimmering in pain, bubbling with pleasure. And 
then the ripples grew and great rolling waves of passion took their 
place. Her eyes closed, her head rolling from side to side, Carolyn's 
only thoughts were of the hot streaks of pleasure which roared in from 
all directions like speeding trains bent on the destruction of a 
central terminal. Pain and pleasure chased each other through the 
delicate walls of flesh, winced and wallowed in the depths of her body, 
while she lay prisoner at the mercy of her pulsing need. The straps 
which held her were torture bands for she could not even rise to meet 
the contractions of her growing climax nor move to ease the straining 
body. She could not work her hips to hurry it to its end. She could do 
nothing but lie there and let the almost unbearable pangs of pleasure 
rape her helpless body. Time and time again the pinioned vagina jerked 
within the fiat belly skin.

Mario watched the pink lips open and close as Carolyn's growing spasms 
took over her mind and body. Nero's thrusting penis pressed time and 
again into the girl's spread-eagled legs only to ram its rock-hard 
point into solid flesh. Mario watched both the girl and the dog 
carefully. When he was certain, he reached across and guided the 
animal's heavy organ through the open door of her split, burying the 
pointed head enough that the dog's first hearty lunge would carry it 
inside. Nero had first class equipment but his aim was lousy. Mario 
pulled his hand away and let Nero's humping body take over.

"Get her, boy," Mario said softly to the near frantic animal. "Fuck her 
good!"

The huge dog needed no encouragement. Once his great pointed organ had 
nosed into the bitch's opening, animal instinct took over. He threw his 
161 pounds of fury, sinew and muscle behind his spearhead and drove it 
hard into her hot hole.

"OHHHHHHHhhhhhh!!!" Carolyn moaned, first with pain and then with 
exquisite pleasure as the force of the dog's brutal insertion triggered 
the final magnificent explosion. Her body jerked repeatedly, pouring 
out its warm orgasmic pleasures with wild abandon. "Ohhh! ... Ohhh! ... 
Ohhh!"

Only when she lay spent and gasping for air did the girl realize the 
brutal massage of her vagina was still going on. She lay still and 
exhausted upon her plastic couch. The flesh within her warm wet cunt 
pulled in and out with the pressing demands of someone's huge hard 
organ. Jason? She was too tired to force her head up off the table and 
look. Mario? Perhaps when she had rested a moment ... she lay helpless 
beneath the tight straps, gasping for air, and hating herself for 
weakening beneath the dog's tireless tongue. The dog was ... THE DOG! 
... she forced her head up and looked down over her naked body into the 
savage face of the enormous dog towering over her.

"No! Oh no, no. NO!" she whispered in desperation trying to pull her 
hips away but the woven band held firm. Her eyes grew wilder as she 
realized what was happening. It was not the jackhammering pain between 
her legs but the realization, the actual sight of the dog's humping 
body, that warped her control. It was crushing her sensitivity, the 
prim flower of her upbringing being ground into the dirt ... she would 
never know the peace of innocence again. Her eyes focused hazily on the 
great animal's under belly and the muscles that rolled each time he 
thrust high into her chastity. Surely, Carolyn thought, surely she 
would go out of her mind. But she didn't.

Slowly she raised her tortured eyes to the dog's muzzle in motion above 
her bare stomach. The dog was no longer panting. His huge jowls were 
closed and he stared intently at the bare wall behind her, a 
magnificent picture of animal endurance and concentration. She hated 
herself for the thought but he was a regal beast. And tireless. His 
strong haunches hunkered over the spread of her legs and he rapid-fired 
the huge cock into her soft hole with machine-like regularity. Carolyn 
stared at the fantastic size of his dog's organ as it slid in and out 
of view. The sight of the devil dong pummeling her body was almost too 
much for her sanity.

Carolyn knew it was going to happen again. If Jason Benson didn't get 
his foul beast away from her loins, she would surely fall victim to his 
well-trained penis. The soft tremors of passion were playing through 
her body for a second time.


Chapter Seven


"Get ... him ... off ... of ... me," Carolyn begged between the double-
time cadence of the humping dog. "Please ... pull ... him ... off ... 
of ... me ... please ... please."

Jason held up the choke chain and looked at her questioningly.

"Did you say you wanted me to call Nero off?" he asked with a facetious 
smile.
"Yes ... Yes ... Please!" Carolyn gasped.

Jason held the chain before her tortured eyes, held it out for her to 
plead for, to beg for ... then dropped it to the floor with a loud 
rattle Let the little bitch suffer like those wrinkled old bags had 
made him suffer. Beg, bitch, beg. He walked to the side of the table 
and smiled down into Carolyn's face. He loved to watch the expressions 
of pain and degradation flow across her lovely features.
"Please ... Mr. ... Ben ... son ... PLEASE."

Jason smiled softly, his eyes had a faraway look though they caught 
every look that swept out of control. Both hands openly rubbed his 
pants front now, rolling the meager stick of flesh between his 
perspiring palms. The wet spot on his trousers had grown larger as his 
excited hands massaged and cuddled the reluctant organ back to life, 
matching his strokes to those of the hunching haunches of the Great 
Dane.

From his unobstructed view point on the other side of the table, Mario 
watched first the heaving dog and then his employer's growing 
excitement. Jason always used the dogs to get a stiff going, always 
intending to use the girl after the animals had done with her ... but 
he rarely lasted that long. Mario grinned with malicious amusement. 
You'd think he'd learn but he never did. He just kept on watching 'em, 
dog after dog, until his puny penis couldn't stand the gaff any longer. 
Mario had watched Jason's failures time and again. Once the soggy thing 
got in gear, it leaked out a few warnings and then POW! Mario grinned 
wider ... any minute now, he thought, judging by the size of the dark 
spot on Jason's pants. He knew all the symptoms after eight years with 
Jason Benson. Any minute now, and that was all right with him. Let the 
dogs get her hot to trot.

They were just warming up the ovens for him. Let the honorable Mr. 
Benson squirt off in his pants. Who the hell cared? Mario reached down 
and took a firm grip on the suddenly solid pecker that pushed out of 
his own pants. It was every stud for himself around this damn place and 
the devil fuck the hindmost. Mario rubbed his callused thumb across the 
coronal ridge, enjoying the responsive throb in his jock. Gotta be 
prepared, he thought happily to himself and milked a few drops of fluid 
from the slit on the blood-darkened head and smeared it carefully over 
the blunt end of his club. Gotta be prepared.

Carolyn no longer pleaded with Jason Benson, nor did she stare up at 
the dog in horror. Her eyes were focused on the ceiling directly over 
head, oblivious to everything except the powerhouse slams between her 
throbbing thighs. The tremors which ran through her tethered body were 
strong now, wild and uncivilized like the animals in her guts, the ten 
thousand crawly sperm which her uterus warmed and fed and housed. They 
would soon be joined by ten thousand more and ten thousand after that, 
squirming and wiggling inside her private world. She could never wash 
them all out. Hoary pictures of her future floated detachedly before 
her half-glazed eyes - her red torn hole gushing like a fountain in the 
park, spewing forth milky white dog sperm in impossible quantities, a 
litter of puppies with doggy bodies and her face, a long waiting line 
of dogs one behind the other with their cocks dragging on the ground 
waiting their turn to pump up the white lady prisoner, and there she 
was on a chain herself while a prospective buyer looked at her ears and 
withers and felt up her ass and questioned her pedigree - 
impressionistic pictures of her future with Jason Benson. Her mind 
fighting for consciousness and barely holding its own, Carolyn knew 
both the nightmares and the needs that held her body prisoner. And if 
she were untied at this very moment, she also knew she would not leave 
the table until this awful thing had worn itself out.

She began to gasp for breath, deep racking gulps of air to fill her 
lungs and give her strength for the ravage of her violent orgasm ... 
for it was on the way!

"Mmmmmm, Mmmmmm, Mmmmmm," she crooned aloud to herself, "I'm coming ... 
I'm ... Mmmmmmmm, Mmmmm ... coming ... harder ... harder ... Mmmmmm, 
Mmmmmm."

Each jerking throb of her body's great orgasm brought a low moan from 
the girl in the plastic prison. The still humping dog was caught up in 
the excitement, sensed the end was near, and began the guttural whine 
with which most dogs signal the impending breeding. His dog knot was 
swelling to proportions one would not have believed possible to push in 
and out of a woman's fragile hole, and yet he did. Carolyn was 
whimpering now, partly from the pain of the growing knot, partly from 
the pleasure of pre-climax when the world is a wonderful soft glow of 
clouds floating.

"Ohhhhhh, mmmmmm, ohhhhhhhh," she groaned louder as she climbed a 
mountain of orgasms and reached the pinnacle. "OHHHH OHHH!!!"

* * *

She lay exhausted and limp, her body suddenly squeezed dry of passion 
and drained of all movement. There was only the faintest flutter of 
motion beneath the ivory lids and a single sigh.

And still the Great Dane hammered his bone into her lifeless form. His 
knob would no longer pull free of the bitch's body beneath. The long 
deep thrusts had suddenly become a staccato of short stabs which shook 
her body on the table with their intensity.

Jason never took his eyes from the girl's tortured face until she had 
given herself to the animal and sank in exhaustion. She would never be 
the same in her own eyes again. He, Jason Benson, had seen to that! And 
now it was his turn. The dog would cast the last stone of shame ... and 
then he would casually redeem her with his gift of 'acceptance' into 
the fold. Jason let his cold hard eyes slide down the girl's still body 
to the brown velour of her open crotch and watched the dog's unusually 
thick penis ripping away the last vestiges of her fallen dignity. With 
one final whine, Nero burst his dog knot and the hot juice ran slowly 
out into the unprotesting bitch's body. The dog humped one last time, 
twice, then stood still with his massive head down, panting, as he 
patiently waited for the swelling to go down in his buried staff. Hung 
up, as he was on the narrow frame of the woman's body, he could do 
nothing but squat over his vaginal prison and wait.

Jason felt the warnings coming. He tried to hold back, tried 
desperately, but he could feel it shooting up from his emaciated balls. 
Frantic with haste, he grabbed the chain about the Dane's neck and 
pulled at it. The big dog only looked at him. Then Jason realized the 
dog couldn't move. He was still hung up on the woman. Oh Jesus, he 
thought, fumbling with the zipper on his expensive trousers. The zipper 
lock slowed him down. He'd never make it! Then it slipped free and 
whirred all the way down to his crotch. Jason clutched the wet-head 
hard and scurried toward the other end of the table where Carolyn's 
head lay but a few scant inches from the edge. He could lean over that 
far. She wasn't getting off this easy, by god, she had somethin' coming 
and she was gonna get it! The final blow of Jason Benson, ha! And one 
more woman to squirm beneath his hot kiss of sperm.

It was ready to burst! He held the fat little head tight in his hand, 
holding the oozing slit shut, holding back the explosion of man juice 
until he could get his dripping cock between the woman's open lips ... 
but it was too late! ... and the warm thick liquid spurted into his 
hand and ran like thick white syrup between his fingers and made wet 
sticky spots upon his trousers. Jason watched the jerking organ in his 
hand with disbelief. When the last drop had wrung itself free, a soft 
sob broke the long silence of the room. Jason spread his hands open 
before him and looked at the waste, then turned and ran from the room.

Mario watched his employer's retreating back and felt the detached 
amusement he had known so often before. He had often heard Jason 
telling people that he, Mario, was 'a little slow in his thinking.' 
Huh! Well, maybe he was. That's what the doctors said before he ran 
away from the detention home and he found a job here with the kennels. 
Maybe he was, Mario chuckled mirthlessly to himself, but he didn't have 
to watch a dog screwing to get a stiff on. He didn't fuck into his 
hands. Not Mario Santos! He always found somethin' convenient and 
willing - well, sometimes willing - to stick it in. Yeah, like the baby 
doll there.

Mario bounced his heavy cock in his hand and moved closer to the table 
where Carolyn lay limp and near total exhaustion, her face turned 
toward the other wall. He reached over and turned her face back toward 
him with his free hand.

"Hey, baby, wake up. This ain't no time to be taking a nap. You only 
been fed on one end." He grinned, distorting his features with the 
lewdness of his intentions. "If you're gonna burn the candle at both 
ends, girlie, you better feed 'em both."

Carolyn hadn't opened her eyes nor changed her expression. Mario 
slapped her cheek a short stinging blow.

"You hear me?" he snarled. "You better hear me, little lady, I didn't 
go fucking off in no goddam dog just to give you a show! You got 
entertained, now you bloody well better pay your fare."

Carolyn's eyes fluttered several times and then opened slowly. Only 
inches from her face, the long fat cock joggled and waved in the air. 
She watched it swaying there with a sort of detached immunity. Then 
slowly, slowly, she gathered in her nets of reality and realized what 
the fat fleshy worm was doing there. She pulled her head back and 
turned her face away.

"Don't do that ... again!" Mario growled down at her, roughly grabbing 
her chin with his hand and slamming her head back the other way to face 
the drooling beast which grew from his hairy loins.

"Haven't you done enough to me?" she whimpered.

"Me?" Mario said with feigned innocence. "Me? Why, you laid there and 
fucked off a hundred and sixty-pound Dane with a pecker like a shetland 
pony ... and ya squeezed it so tight he hung up on ya, and old piss 
pants squirted in his hand just lookin' at you ... and you got the guts 
to say I've done enough to you! Huh! If ya think I did it, you must 
have been enjoying it even more than I thought you were."
Carolyn looked at the small man with disgust, then felt the warm rise 
of blood to her face. She had enjoyed it. That was the trouble and that 
was why she was blushing. She wished she could stop. It was like a 
signed confession to her sins. She averted her eyes from his. "Well, if 
you aren't the blushingest broad I ever saw." Mario chuckled. "After 
the dog-hair fucking you got from old Nero here, and from the King 
t'other day, you just ain't got no cause to go redding up like that ... 
specially when all I wantcha to do is help me with my little problem."

Mario grasped his long penis and waggled it at her.

"See? It's got a terrible swelling in it. Just needs a little 
attention, a little mouth massage." He poked the fat leaking head 
against her lips. It left a wet splotch on the dry skin of her mouth 
and chin.

Carolyn's body convulsed and she turned her head away.

"I said don't do that again!" Mario slapped her hard. The suddenness of 
his move and the loud smack of his flat hand against her cheek startled 
the big dog and he jumped back, pulling his dog pecker free with a lewd 
slurping sound.

"Owwwww!" Carolyn grimaced with the sharp pain.

The knot had not yet spent itself and the dog's weight had pulled it 
free by tearing the delicate tissues of her entrance. Droplets of blood 
flowed from the torn flesh and mingled with the oozing liquids that 
were the proof of Nero's nesting in her hairy little hole. Together 
they slid down the crack of her buttocks and onto the table's surface 
and puddled there, red and white smears for all to see. The dog walked 
a few feet away, then sat down and licked the woman smell from his 
contented cock. His long tongue curled out and around his own stick as 
Bravo had curled and licked at Mario moments before. Now and then a 
small drop or two of fluid would seep from the center passage and poise 
dangerously on the brink of his prick. Nero licked them carefully off 
until the organ was no longer bulbous and had slid back into the hairy 
security of its pouch of flesh, carried like a kangaroo baby beneath 
his lean stomach until his Master brought him another bitch to breed. 
He licked his mouth off and looked around the room.

"Come on, Nero," Mario called. "Back in your cage."

The dog looked at him but didn't move. A small whine came from his 
throat.

"What's the matter, boy? Want a little more nookey?"

The dog whined again, then rose slowly to his feet and walked to the 
end of the stanchion. His great neck stretched out and he sniffed at 
Carolyn's dripping vagina. Mario chuckled. Nero stuck out his thick wet 
tongue and licked the seeping flow away, cleaning her exposed parts 
thoroughly with the rough washrag.

"Looks like you got a convert." Mario chuckled openly. "He sure does 
like the taste of your pussy."

"Get him away from me," There were tears in Carolyn's eyes. Tears of 
shame, for new the jerking orgasms were still and she could hear the 
condemning beat of her heart and the crying of her tarnished 
principles. "Please, Mario, PLEASE take the dog away and let me loose 
from here."

Mario looked at her thoughtfully, then at the dog. He looked down at 
the penis he grasped in his hand. Then slowly, slowly he raised his 
eyes to hers. His meaning was clear. He ran his thumb back and forth 
over the ridge of his blood filled cock, not saying a word, waiting for 
Carolyn to make her decision. He would get his way, tied or untied, dog 
or not ... but it might be fun to make her work without the restraining 
straps. Once more he looked at the dog, at the straps which held her 
helpless upon the table, and finally down at the fat head of his jock. 
He skinned it back slowly and shook off the single drop of fluid onto 
her face. It made a small tear shape which clung to her cheek for a 
moment then slid down across the smooth curve and onto the table 
beneath her head.

"All right," Carolyn sighed with dejection, "Just take the dog away, 
now, right now, and I'll do whatever you want."

Mario grinned. Some days it didn't pay to get out of the sack ... but 
today, today was gonna be a good day. He dropped the heavy stick of 
flesh and picked up Nero's dragging chain.

"Come on, Nero," Mario said happily to the dog whose warm wet tongue 
still searched for tasty tidbits between the girl's perspiring thighs. 
"You've done your bit for A.K.C. today. 'Keep the breed pure' ... isn't 
that what the Great Dane Clubs preach? ... well, you did your part, 
huh? 'Keep the breed pure - fuck a broad instead!"'

The Dane reluctantly allowed himself to be pulled away from Carolyn's 
open crotch. Mario led him down the line of cages and closed the cage 
door behind him. Mario clicked the lock shut, made a mark on the small 
calendar sign over his cage to indicate Nero had been 'exercised' on 
this date, then turned and grinned with evil anticipation.

Carolyn strained her neck to look back. She couldn't wait for him to 
release her from this table of terror. What was keeping Mario? Why 
didn't he hurry?

"Untie me," she urged him to hurry. "Please untie me."

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Mario laughed out loud. "I didn't know you 
were so all-fired hot to eat my tail again. Did it taste that good the 
other night?"
"Don't be vulgar. Just untie me."

"I will. I will. But first ... I want to make sure you understand our 
bargain."

"I understand," Carolyn agreed hoarsely. "You took the dog away and you 
untie me ... and then I have to go to bed with you. That's the bargain 
you want, isn't it?"

"Welllllll, not exactly." He grinned down at her, doodling with the 
strap which bound her breasts to the table. "I don't want to go to bed 
with you. I just want you to practice a little of that physical therapy 
the old man was talking about. You can play Nursey with me, like he was 
saying about the dogs, only reversed like. Ya see, baby, like I was 
a'saying before, I got this here terrible swelling in my dong and I 
need somebody kind and gentle to nurse me back to health. You know ... 
somebody who can sorta suck the poison out of the thing and make it all 
better???"

Carolyn's eyes widened slightly. She thought he had meant just ... just 
... no, she hadn't really thought that at all. She was just trying to 
fool herself again. She had known all along what the perverted little 
man wanted. Pretending she didn't wouldn't help at all. She nodded her 
head, careful to avert her eyes from his.

"Well, honey baby, if you know what I mean, let's hear you say so. I 
can't place much store in head shakin'."
"I'll do what you want," came her quiet reply.

"You'll do what, baby, what'll you do?" Mario taunted.
"I'll do ... what you said."
"You still ain't coming through loud and clear."
"I said all right." Carolyn's voice was louder.

"Say, it baby," jeered Mario's grinning mouth, "spit it out! Say all 
the words! Say ... I want to suck you off ... say it, little lady, say 
it just like that."

"I want to suck you off," Carolyn whispered, almost gagging on the 
unfamiliar words.
"Louder."
"I ... want ... to ... suck ... you ... off!" Her voice was wavering 
but it was loud enough to hear across the room.

Mario grinned He turned and looked at the dogs.

"You all hear that?" he asked. "You hear this pretty lady begging ole 
Mario to pump a little down her throat?"

He turned back to the girl still strapped to the table beneath his 
hands.

"Well now, I guess I could let you have a swallow or two, just to wet 
your gullet." He shook his head as he untied the straps, wrinkled his 
forehead in mock concern. "Just don't understand girls these days. All 
they wanna do is suck, suck, suck."

He unfastened the strap which held her breasts, then the bond across 
her abdomen. He rubbed the red stripe it had worn into her ivory flesh 
in her struggles.

"Tch, tch," he mumbled at the red streak, then went on to release her 
feet from the splaying stirrups and her hands from their arm breaking 
bind beneath the table. "There you go."

He helped her up to a sitting position and watched her stretch her 
naked body like a newborn animal and rub her wrists where the cords had 
bitten deep. She slid down from the raised platform of the dog 
stanchion and her knees buckled beneath the weight of her body. With a 
soft moan of pain, she sank to her knees on the floor.

"Well now, wouldn't that beat all?" Mario was quick to take advantage 
of anyone's weakness of the moment. "Just fresh off the dog rack and 
she's right down on her knees before the first stiff prick she sees!! 
That's all right. I understand how it is with you hot pussys."

He pushed his hips forward, pressing the damp head of his cock against 
her lips and holding her head firmly between his hands so she couldn't 
move.

"You just go right ahead and help yourself. We'll just call it a little 
midday snack."

He undulated his hips gently forward and back, pressing the stiff penis 
against her full lips. When she didn't open her mouth to his fleshy 
knock, Mario let his fingers wind into her long hair and twisted his 
wrists slowly backward.

"Aaaahhhh," she grunted with pain, her mouth opening as her head was 
forced back.

"That's a girl," he nodded down at her, "now you just go ahead and 
enjoy your lunch ... I'll watch."

Carolyn let the wet head of the fat organ move back and forth across 
her lips. When it pushed at her teeth, she slowly opened her mouth 
until the thick trunk could ram its way onto her tongue. It lay there 
quietly, like an animal, panting and throbbing with excitement, like a 
thing alive.

"There ... isn't that tasty, my dove?" Mario flexed the muscles of his 
groin and the fat worm came alive in her mouth, wriggling sensuously 
upon her tongue. "Can you taste it yet? ... Is it good?"

She could taste it, Carolyn thought with numb disgust, and it tasted 
like seawater. Wet, faintly warm and a little salty. The salty worm 
wriggled on her tongue, slid itself in and out of the cocoon of her 
mouth. Carolyn closed her eyes to the heavy mat of black hair from 
which this big worm came. When she couldn't see it, it felt different. 
It tasted different too, sweeter. Sweet succulent meat. Juicy with its 
natural liquids. Satisfying ... like the sugartits she used to have as 
a small child when her mother would take a clean square of cloth and 
poke a pocket in it with her finger and fill it with sugar and vanilla 
for her to suck. Yes, it was rather like a long sugartit. Man tits were 
no more than sugartits with salt ... and a heart beat you could feel 
when you sucked. She sucked at it experimentally, pausing to feel the 
heart beat increase. The long tit throbbed upon her tongue. She sucked 
again, gently rubbing her tongue along the underside of it like she had 
as a child to squeeze the sugar sweetness out of the oldfashioned 
sugartit. There was wet sweetness upon her tongue. Just a little. She 
rubbed harder, sucking it in, then letting it slide out over her 
flicking tongue. From somewhere above her head there was a deep 
throated moan, but Carolyn wasn't concerned with things beyond. She 
wrapped her arms around the warm trunk which grew this delicious man 
tit for her, grasping a firm handhold on the cloth covered buttocks, 
and sucked it in deeper ... pressing her face tight against the gaping 
pants and feeling the black woolly curls against her nose and chin. As 
a child she used to try to see how far down her throat she could let 
the sugartit go, still holding on to the cloth end. She sucked in on 
the salty-sweet man tit and let it slide down her warm cave until she 
gagged ... and swallowed at it.

The convulsion of the girl's throat milked hard at Mario's already 
excited penis. It wasn't gonna last long but by god, it was gonna be 
one to remember, he thought. Holding her head firm and still between 
the flats of his hands, he began the rhythmic thrusts into her mouth, 
dragging it out until he could look down and see the coronal ridge 
peeking from her lips then pushing it firmly into the dark hole until 
he could see no light between her mouth and his guts. Each time he 
buried the spear in her throat, she swallowed and damn near bit the 
head off the thing. As he slid it out across her eager tongue, she 
sucked voraciously and tickled the big sensitive vein beneath it. He 
leaned over and sucked his stomach in to get a better view of his prick 
and her clinging lips. Once he pulled it clear out, accidentally, and 
it made a loud slurping sound when the suction broke loose. God damn, 
it was sexy watching the little broad sucking him off like that.

He pressed down on her shoulders and she sank a couple inches down on 
her haunches. Then he tipped her face up a little so he could watch the 
pistoning penis sliding through her wet lips from a better angle. Her 
eyes were closed ... but her mouth was active. God, was it active! She 
was sucking harder now, so hard sometimes that it felt like the fat 
head would pop off and she would swallow it. But it felt good. He would 
be cumming soon. Already he could feel the streaks of pleasure 
squeezing through his loins and aiming toward her hungry mouth.

Carolyn ate at the long worm of flesh. The more she held it in her 
mouth, the better it tasted. The more she sucked the taste from it, the 
more it struggled to get away. She couldn't let it get away ... suck 
harder, hold tighter. She clamped her fingers into his butt and 
squeezed hard. The delicious flesh was worming its way in and out of 
her mouth faster now, faster across her tongue. Sometimes she didn't 
time it right and she sucked at a man tit already gone ... like then 
... it slid out of her mouth and left her gaping mouth open, mewling 
and begging for its return. And then it was inside her again, the hard-
soft flesh with its oozing tit. She nestled down between the man's 
spread legs and angled her neck straight up like a baby bird begging 
for worms.

He bent his knees a little and rubbed the open pants crotch over her 
face. He was cumming. He was cumming! He lifted her head back up before 
his hot penis and started throwing the meat to her, HARD. Deep into her 
hungry mouth, deep, never bringing it out, just short fast stabs ... 
until the force of his need spewed out in spurts and filled her sucking 
mouth. At the final explosion, he rammed it deep between her jaws and 
held her head hard against him so she couldn't move.

Her nose was mashed against the hard cords of his stomach and she was 
sure a sharp tooth had cut her lips where they pressed against his 
centerbone ... but it didn't matter. The warm man tit had burst in her 
throat and the salty-sweet liquid had drenched her mouth. She swallowed 
... and again ... and again ... until all that was left was the 
lingering taste of sea water ... and the contented feeling of 
saturation.

Slowly she sank down on her bent legs ... and the once fat tit slid 
wetly from her slack mouth and fell loose upon the fly of Mario's 
pants. She gasped for air, breathing in long noisy breaths. Slowly, 
very slowly, the heat of her passionate nature died down ... and she 
realized what she had done ... and done willingly. She closed her eyes 
and hung her head down. God would never forgive her. No one would ever 
forgive her. She couldn't forgive herself.

Why was it, after the first terrible transgression, sin came easier?


Chapter Eight


Jason had been right, Carolyn thought to herself. After the first 
couple weeks, it had been easier. She no longer felt more than 
occasional twinges of guilt over her association with the dogs. It had 
become a job - with its unpleasant moments, with its gratifying moments 
as well - it was a job and it paid well. She longed to be free of it, 
sometimes during the long sleepless nights, but she seldom considered 
trying to leave Royal Benson Kennels. The hours were good.

She worked from four to five hours a day. In exchange for those hours, 
she received room and board and $300 a month, tax free ... and all the 
orgasms she wanted, she thought mirthlessly. She was rapidly building 
up a nice nest egg ... and an insatiable hunger for sex. Carolyn 
shrugged her shoulders indifferently. What the hell, there were plenty 
of dogs in training with Dane-sized dogpeckers and boundless energy. 
She no longer felt repulsed by their great cocks in her body. It gave 
her much pleasure ... and the dogs were not to blame. They were 
devoted, well-trained, well-bred animals and only doing what they were 
systematically trained to do. They were clean, genuinely affectionate 
and eager to please. Why shouldn't she let them please?

Carolyn yawned. She had been up late last night watching a movie on her 
small television set. When time came to sleep, somehow she hadn't been 
drowsy and had lain there for several hours thinking about Royal Benson 
Kennels. She had made an important decision. When she had saved up 
enough money, perhaps $1500, she would leave New York and begin again. 
New clothes new hair style, new town ... new life ... one with a steady 
job, a nice young man and a normal sex life. She would tell everyone 
that she was allergic to dogs or something so she would never be put in 
a position of temptation from their proximity. It was an important 
decision, Carolyn nodded to herself. Yes, something to plan for, to 
think about, and to look forward to.

Meanwhile there was work to do. Jason had specifically asked her to 
come down to the lab early this morning, to complete her chores 
rapidly. Today she was to begin her 'solo flight' as it were. Dog show 
season began in less than a month and Jason wanted to prepare her to 
take over full charge of the special training section. Carolyn smiled 
ironically to herself. Funny thing, Jason had ceased to force his 
sexual attentions on her once she willingly accepted the dogs. When 
sexual union with the animals no longer repulsed her, he seemed to 
withdraw within himself. He became silent and brooding and his 
relationship with her was one of clinical sterility. He watched the 
couplings, studied the dog's techniques and made suggestions for 
improvement. He supervised their diets and their coat care. But his 
demeanor with Carolyn was no different than his attitude toward Mario, 
one of tolerance of the hired help, barely tolerant. Not that she 
minded, Carolyn thought gratefully. Jason's sexual prowess left much to 
be desired even if he could manage to get the pitifully limp thing in 
gear.

She heard footsteps at the door and the whir of the electric trip for 
the door but she went right on with her work and didn't turn around. 
The tread was light on the tile behind her. It was Jason.

"Good morning, Jason," Carolyn said tonelessly over the sound of 
running water in the sink.

"Hmmm? Oh, yes, yes." Jason muttered. "Did you see that envelope of AKC 
pedigree forms? It came just recently and I'm sure I left it in here."

There was a frantic rattle of papers, cupboard doors opened and shut, 
and footsteps hurrying about. Like a rat, a large rat squeaking and 
scurrying about, Carolyn thought impersonally, and she didn't care for 
rats.

"I can't find them anywhere," Jason muttered to himself, "and I must 
register those pups before the opening show. "Where in the world????"

Without turning around, Carolyn knew he was making a shamble of the 
small desk top where she maintained the intricate records of all her 
canine charges. It would take her an hour to straighten out the mess he 
made.

"They aren't in here, Jason." She hoped to discourage him from 
disrupting her work schedule. "I cleaned out that desk just yesterday. 
There's nothing in there except the lab forms. Are you sure they came 
this week? Sure they were brought into the lab?"

"Yes, yes, of course I'm sure," he said, continuing his scramble 
through the once orderly drawers. "Don't you remember, girl, you paid 
Mario for the extra postage out of the petty cash right here in this 
drawer! It was a large manila envelope with airmail stickers all over 
it. Now where the ..."

"Oh. Oh that." Carolyn could never understand Jason's preoccupation 
with show season. It drove everything else completely out of his mind, 
like closing the door on a cluttered closet. "For heaven sakes, that 
envelope came nearly a month ago. You left it here on the desk for two 
weeks and I finally filed it away in the kennel records files out 
front."
"Huh? Oh, has it been that long?" He scurried out of the lab and the 
door whirred shut behind him.

* * *

She shook her head. Couldn't understand that man. Not that she really 
cared, he was another of the disgusting vermin of the world and the 
fact that he was human was purely accidental! But he could sign checks 
and cash them and give her a badly needed start on a new life. A means 
to an end. After all, life was not necessarily pretty even for the 
'respectable' inhabitants of society. The dogs were more respectful in 
their attitude toward her than the many fanny-pinching bosses she'd 
worked for in the past. She'd had more than her share of that run-
around-the-desk exercise that kept most working girls slim. That was 
what had prompted her to accept a job away from her home town, she 
recalled, a 'nice respectable job for a girl alone' her older friends 
had said and so she moved to New York and went to work for the Deacon. 
Save your money and save your soul ... they expected most of her money 
donated to the church and the Deacon's respectable son had taken care 
of her soul. It had been the recollection of this unsavory memory that 
had prompted her decision to remain with Royal Benson Kennels until she 
had saved up enough money to really become respectable.
"Whatcha thinking so hard about, Lollypop?"

Carolyn jumped noticeably. She had been so engrossed in her thoughts 
this morning that she hadn't noticed the whir of the electric door. She 
looked around into Mario's perpetually leering face.
"Don't call me Lollypop!" she growled at him.

"Awww, don't be like that," he grinned, "it's just a pet name for a 
little girl who likes all day suckers."
"You're disgusting, Mario!"

"You don't think that when you get itchy-britches from the dogs, you 
prissy little whore!" Mario scowled at the girl's back. "Just you let 
them goddam Danes work on ya awhile and you change your tune. Then you 
start eyeing my pants, don't ya bitch?"

Carolyn didn't answer. She stacked the last of the dog bowls in the low 
sink and began scrubbing them clean.

"Don't ya?" Mario poked at her shoulder with a stiff finger. "About the 
third stud ya exercise, you start getting horny and even the dogs can't 
satisfy you, can they? All a guy's gotta do is walk up beside the 
stanchion and hang his dong out and Little Miss Innocence starts 
gobblin' ... Jesus! Yer just lucky I got a leanin' toward French 
Culture or you'd be out of luck."

"You wouldn't know what 'culture' was," Carolyn spat at him. "I doubt 
that you could even spell it"

"Huh! Well maybe I ain't no college graduate like old piss-in-his-pants 
Benson, but that sure as hell don't seem to bother ya none when your 
dog-eating pussy's on fire and ya gotta yen to suck!"

Carolyn whirled around with fire in her eye but Mario jumped back and 
laughed obscenely. It made his day off to a good start when he could 
rile the girl. He had little use for her lately. It had been great fun 
when she was scared shitless of the dogs and had to be tied down to be 
screwed by anybody. She had been a real piece of tail then ... until 
she got to liking the dogs. Now the only time he could get a piece of 
her was when she'd had several of the Danes to exercise and was hotter 
than a Tennessee cracker, and then it was usually with a dog hung up in 
her and she frenched him. He oughta let her go hungry! That's what he 
oughta do. Still, he thought resentfully, she was better than the dogs 
when ya really need to squirt. Goddam righteous women anyway, who they 
think they were?

"Here," Carolyn shoved a stack of water pans in his arms. "Get your 
mind out of the gutter and let's get the work done around here."

"Okay, okay," Mario took the pans and walked slowly toward the first 
row of cages, "but just you wait, hot twat, wait until you're hungry 
for my meat. Ya know what I'm gonna do then? Ya know? I'm gonna take it 
out and wave it under yer goddam nose and then I'm gonna shove it up a 
dog's ass ... and you can suck yer thumb!"

Mario slammed open the door of the first cage and went about his clean-
up chores muttering to himself.
Carolyn washed out the sink quickly, then began sorting and filling the 
nursing bottles. She wanted to work. She needed to work. She needed to 
do something to keep her mind occupied. What he said was true. She 
hated his guts but it was true. When the dogs had warmed her up, she 
would willingly do just about anything. It was phenomenal what those 
rough tongues could do to a girl. Her schedule called for six young 
lickers, as Jason so crudely referred to the beginning males, a day on 
Tuesday and Thursday. There were four mature males in training at the 
moment who went all the way Monday, Wednesday and Friday. And then, of 
course, there were the pups who had to be bottle nursed a few minutes 
each and every day and those who were old enough given five minutes at 
her breast, not for the nutrient value for her breasts were dry, of 
course, but to keep their puppy nursing habits well in mind through the 
transition period from puppy to fully trained adulthood. It was no 
wonder she got a little overheated. With the training schedule she 
followed, a marble statue would need a tranquilizer.

Carolyn finished filling the nursing bottles and lined them up on the 
shelf of the small refrigerator. The food and water dishes had been 
cleaned and the meat and kibble prepared for the next meal. She looked 
around the room to make sure she had not forgotten anything. Jason was 
a tyrant at times. She had known the feel of his dog whips more than 
once, and she had no desire to experience the pain again. His sadistic 
desire to degrade and cause pain to women had frightened her for awhile 
but she had become mentally numb to the many things about Royal Benson 
Kennels which revolted her. It was easier that way. He no longer 
frightened her, but she tried to avoid giving him any possible cause to 
do it again.

"Come on, you lazy broad," Mario growled from the row of cages, "If I 
gotta work, so do you."

It was getting harder and harder lately to ignore Mario's crude cutting 
comments. If he didn't stop it, one of these days she would sic the 
dogs on him. They were fanatically devoted to her and one word would be 
all it would take. Just then she heard the electric purr of the outer 
door and knew Jason had returned to the lab to begin the day's work. 
She turned to him and awaited orders.

* * *

Jason walked directly to the metal cupboard and removed a small black 
notebook from the shelf of dog breeding books. He picked up a 
Veterinarian's Guide To Canine Matings in the other hand, a large thick 
volume with unmistakable signs of long use.  Carolyn watched and waited 
without speaking. He laid these upon the long center counter, pursed 
his lips as if wondering what he had forgotten, then with an almost 
inaudible 'oh yes' he crossed to the small safe which stood in the far 
corner of the room. She watched him squat on his sparemeated haunches 
and flip the dial impatiently. When it clicked open, he reached in and 
brought out a beautifully tooled leather covered book. This too he 
placed upon the center counter after locking the safe door securely 
behind him. He looked at the three items he had placed there, nodded 
his head curtly to himself, then turned to Carolyn.

"Are you ready to begin?" he asked brusquely.

"I ... guess so." Not knowing exactly what he had in mind.

"Then let us make it as brief and concise as possible," he began, "I 
don't wish to waste unnecessary time with you."
He began shuffling through the notebook.

"Well, you're not exactly the soul of charm yourself!" Carolyn blurted 
before she thought. But Jason only raised his head for a second or two 
and looked at her as if she had two heads, obviously a freak of nature. 
Women had always found his continental charm appealing, the older more 
mature women with experience in the things that counted in the world. 
He tipped his head back slightly and looked down his aquiline nose at 
this girl who had the nerve to disagree with him.

Carolyn knew she had erred and that Jason would find a way to make her 
sorry. She lowered her eyes. She hated his guts but she needed his 
money. It would only be a few months before she had enough to start 
over. She swallowed her hate and tried to make subtle amends.
"Sorry, Jason." She said in a quiet submissive voice. "I didn't sleep 
well last night and ... and I have a headache."
He only looked at her.

"Let's get on with the lessons, or whatever it was you wanted to show 
me today. I'll be alright. My ... headache is getting better." She kept 
her eyes lowered and her voice soft, hoping it wouldn't reveal the 
steelheaded revulsion she had felt for the man since the first few days 
of her stay at Royal Benson Kennels. She didn't look up but she knew 
his dark eyes were boring into her. She waited.
"Very well," he said curtly.

He sat down on the high stool which stood beside the counter, thumbed 
through the notebook to the page he sought and ran the pencil in his 
hand down the page. Then he looked up.

"Alright, Carolyn." He began, "As I mentioned to you last night, show 
season begins shortly and I shall be gone a good deal of the time on 
weekends - Friday through Monday usually - and I want to be certain 
that you have the procedures firmly and clearly in your mind. We cannot 
make mistakes in our special training section. A mistake ... could mean 
disaster both to our customer and to us. If a dog isn't properly 
trained, he might become excited or angered and injure the buyer. One 
mistake is the end of a hundred thousand dollar business. I want you to 
understand how important the proper training can be!"

"I think I understand," Carolyn said quietly. "Even more important, I 
understand that if I do not train them right that I would probably be 
the first casualty."

Jason smirked. He tapped an idle finger on the counter and stared 
directly into her eyes.

"Yes ... I think you do understand. It would be a shame to see one of 
those plump breasts of yours in the angry teeth of one of my boys! Or 
worse!!! ..."

"I will do my work." Carolyn was fighting her temper.

"See that you do." Jason glanced at the notebook in his hands. "Now, I 
think the main thing to do is to take an hour or so and run over the 
entire procedure from beginning to end. I shall ask you questions. You 
shall answer them precisely and in detail. If you hesitate, I shall 
assume you are unsure of yourself and we shall have to see that you ... 
study a little harder."

"Yes, Jason." Bite your tongue, she thought, don't say it. Don't even 
think it. He has the mind of a devil. Sometimes I think he can even see 
what I'm thinking.

"At what age do you begin training the dogs?" he started the quiz in 
his sterile clinical tone.

"The pups are started with the initial bottle training when the bitch 
first begins to wean them."
"Tell me the procedures."

"I fill the double nursing bottles with body temperature milk, 
sweetened with honey or sugar, and feed each pup for five minutes. The 
bottle must contain both the milk mixture and the second solution - 
soluble alum, cayenne and saline solution. The nipple is to be thrust 
firmly into the animal's mouth and every pup must actually nurse at the 
nipple for five minutes each day. The nursing bottle will be given to 
the pups until they are approximately six months old before they are 
transferred to breasts and ... and ... to a man."

"Surely you are not still embarrassed at the word penis, Carolyn," 
Jason said coldly, "Not with your avid appetite for them?"

"... before they are transferred to breasts or the penis." Carolyn's 
eyes narrowed but she retained control of her facial features. She 
would not let him rile her today, she absolutely would not.

"And why are they kept on the bottle so long? Why and how are they 
transferred to the human body?" his frozen smile taunted her.
She took a deep breath and continued.

"The pups are kept on a rigid nursing schedule to insure that they do 
not lose the ability to suck. Animals that are weaned forget the throat 
action necessary to actually suck and, as adults, can only be trained 
to lick. They are eventually transferred to the human body, male or 
female, by the same means. We squeeze milk from the rubber nipple on 
the ... portion of the body to which the dog is to be transferred and 
allow him to lick it off, gradually inducing the breast ... or the 
penis ... into his mouth with the same sucking reaction that he has 
done all his life. As a pup, the animal has had many unpleasant, almost 
painful experiences with the double nipple and the cayenne solution so 
he is thoroughly trained never to entirely close his mouth and teeth 
over the organ or gland. If there is any indication that he is about to 
do so, he is touched with the electric cattle prod and reminded ... but 
this rarely happens."
Carolyn paused, waiting for the next question.

"You didn't finish, Carolyn. Why are the dogs trained to suck?" The 
answer was obvious but he enjoyed making the woman squirm. Jason was 
well aware that she didn't like him. It was about his only pleasure 
with her now. He smiled. He had a surprise in store for her later 
today, however, that might make her suddenly more 'appealing.' "Why the 
training?"

"The dogs are trained to suck and nurse because some of the buyers are 
interested solely in breast fixations - women who want their breasts 
excited, or men who like to watch the breast manipulations - and, 
obviously, men like to have their organs ... orally excited."

"Yea man!" came Mario's sarcastic replies from the far corner of the 
cage rows. "Some women get a little orally excited too. Don't you, 
bitch?"

Carolyn ignored him. Jason only smiled. He had something in mind for 
Mario too. A 'special order' arriving on the afternoon plane from 
Chicago. Mario was about to furnish him with a little entertainment 
after all these years.

"Anything more about the milk transfer? You aren't being very careful 
with details, Carolyn."

"Well," she thought frantically, what did I forget? "Of course, the 
male can dip his penis in the milk rather than squeeze it from the 
bottle, or the woman dip her breasts in a pan of milk, when first 
starting. This allows the entire organ or gland to be covered with the 
taste and encourages the animal to take more of it in his mouth. Later 
after the sucking is well under way, only a few drops on the tip are 
sufficient to remind the animal if he is hesitant or shows a lack of 
interest."

Jason waited expectantly. He's just waiting for me to forget something, 
Carolyn knew, what else? What else?

"When the dog is nearly grown, the taste of milk is no longer 
sufficient incentive for him to suck. When he shows the first signs of 
disinterest in his daily work, it is time to introduce a bribe ... dogs 
candy, special biscuits, whatever he particularly likes ... and this is 
offered as a reward if he performs his 'trick' well." Carolyn thought a 
moment, then "I believe that covers puppy training."

"You are barely satisfactory," Jason lied, "but then what else could 
one expect of a woman."

Carolyn raised her eyes and looked at him, being careful not to show 
any expression whatsoever. She had learned his tricks to irritate her 
and she refused to fall for them.

"Alright, you now have six-month-old adolescent dogs." Jason challenged 
her openly "What are the next stages of training and why?"

"At about six months, depending upon the maturity and comprehension of 
the individual animal, the second training stage is begun. The young 
dogs are taken from their cages one at a time and taught to associate 
sexual activities with rewards. He is masturbated by hand and given a 
reward each time his sex organ becomes thoroughly excited and hard. We 
must compliment him and reward him, making sure he realized it is the 
act he has performed for which he is being rewarded with the candy or 
whatever. In this way, the animal learns that he must perform on cue, 
never must he act without command ... the final stages of this training 
comes later in his maturity, of course. When he has become hard, more 
than sufficient for insertion, he must be patted on the organ and made 
to understand that the humans are pleased with him for becoming hard. 
If he becomes exceptionally hard, then he is generously rewarded with 
several pieces of his treat." Carolyn paused. She was embarrassed in 
spite of herself, in spite of the actual participation in the training 
day after day. "May I get a drink of water?"

Jason nodded his head. He was delighted that it was difficult for her 
to talk about the work. She had grown so outwardly noncommittal lately 
that there had been no stimulation for him in weeks. Perhaps her 
"indoctrination" had not been complete. Jason smiled. He would try to 
see that it was!
"Ready now?" he asked when she returned.
"Yes."

"Is this the sum and substance of intermediate training?"

"No. No, not at all." She must learn not to hesitate, Carolyn thought. 
Jason had something on his mind today and she was sure it would not be 
pleasant for her. The frozen smile had returned ... and that meant 
unpleasantness in store for her. She wondered what it would be. It was 
hard to concentrate. "The intermediate training includes four phases, 
basically - the one just mentioned, rectal insertion in the animal, 
licking the female parts, and watching the lead dog complete the full 
sexual act."

"Explain." His words were ceasing to be quite so harsh and the cold 
smile more noticeable. Carolyn felt a small shudder cross her back. 
Something was afoot. Something.

"Well, rectal insertion is for the gradual preparation of the male - or 
female if specially ordered - to accept the insertion of the man's 
penis. It is accomplished by gradually inducing the trainer's gloved 
finger; greased of course, into the animal's rectum while masturbating 
his organ so that he associates the pleasant feeling, the sexual 
reaction and the reward with the penis insertion. He must realize that 
these things may be done to him separately or at the same time. A buyer 
may be a woman who wants vaginal insertion by the dog ... or a man who 
wants to ease his own penis in a tighter orifice than a woman can 
provide ... or a buyer who wants an all-purpose animal who can and will 
do anything at any time, or even both at the same time. Acceptance 
without nervousness of the rectal insertion and the masturbation must, 
again, always be rewarded."

Jason waited for her to continue. She was doing quite well. But she was 
embarrassed and uncomfortable. He liked that. Maybe he could make her 
just a little more uncomfortable.

"Mario," Jason said in that ominously soft voice, "Mario, why don't you 
leave the cages until later. Pull up a stool and listen to Carolyn's 
lessons. It might be ... stimulating."

His tone was suggestive. He meant it to be. Only a hint to Mario was 
necessary. His one-track mind could be triggered so simply. He waited 
until Mario closed and locked the cage and had seated himself on the 
adjacent stool, knees apart, his tight pants straining over his 
generous tool. Hmmmm, that should make the girl nervous ... especially 
when the conversation excited Mario. Hmmm, yes. The stupid dolt always 
fell right into his plans without even realizing it. Sitting there like 
a brazen street walker with legs apart, like a male madam, all cock and 
no class.


Chapter Nine

"Continue, Carolyn."

"Where was I?" she murmured, visibly shaken that Mario had been asked 
to participate. What did Jason have in mind? "Let's see ... 
masturbation, rectal insertion ... the young dogs are taught to lick 
the vulva of the female."

She could feel the blood beginning to rise already. Why did she have to 
blush, why? It would only make things worse. Better continue. Maybe 
they wouldn't notice. But she knew they would.

"This is easily accomplished by greeting the young dogs in the nude - 
at least, nude from the waist down - whenever you are about to attempt 
any sort of training or stimulation. The dogs are affectionate and 
eager to please and they will immediately come to sit before you. Since 
they have already been command trained in obedience, you can tell them 
to sit and they will stay in that position ... which puts their heads 
at about the right height to pick up the scent from the woman. Their 
natural instincts will tell them after a day or two that this is 
something exciting and they will naturally tend to lick at the source 
of the odor. Some dogs will immediately start licking over the entire 
exposed area of the woman. Some must be encouraged by holding their 
heads to your legs ... or spreading the lips with your fingers ... or 
if necessary, by laying down with your legs apart so the lips are wide 
parted and having a second party ..." she looked with embarrassment at 
Mario, knowing she was blushing deep pink, "... by having a second 
party lead the dog up to the vaginal area and gently pushing his face 
into it."

"The natural instincts of the male animal will take over with patience. 
Once the licking training is begun, the animal's time between her legs 
should be increased a little each day until he is eagerly spending 
fifteen minutes to a half hour constantly licking. When the lesson is 
through, of course, he must be rewarded ... both with his favorite 
treat and verbally."
"Very well said, Carolyn," Jason taunted deliberately, letting his lewd 
stare crawl up her body from her crotch to her lips and back to her 
crotch, smiling when his gesture made her pull her legs together and 
stand in an uncomfortable position. "Don't you think so, Mario?"

"Yeah," he grinned, licking his lips, running his tongue over the even 
white teeth while he stared at her. "Course, she really knows what 
she's talking about, boss. Bet if she laid all the Danes end to end 
that have licked her off, the last one could piss on the Kremlin!"

Carolyn blushed deeper and glared with hate at the young man who sat on 
his stool and ran one stiff finger up and down over his tightening 
pants. Jason chuckled and nodded his head.

"Go on, Lollypop," Mario jeered. "Tell us the rest of your fairy tale."

"You should know all about fairy tails, Mario Santos!" Carolyn raised 
her voice at him. "You spaghetti-eating queer!"

"Now, now," Jason purred at them with the malignant voice of an evil 
Piwacket. "No squabbling until the whole lesson is over."

Carolyn glared once more at Mario, breathed deep through her nose and 
tried to continue in a normal tone of voice. It wasn't easy, not with 
the two of them leering at her like the perverts they were. Money, if 
it wasn't for the money ... and that awful film of her ... she would 
find a way out of this hall of horrors this very night.

"The final stage of the young dogs is to watch at close range, clipped 
to the floor rings four or five feet from the dog stanchion table, 
while the lead dog has ... relations ... with the woman on the table."

"Close relations!" Mario kibitzed. "You mean like incest and raping-
little-Ruthie and sucking off Uncle Joe? Close relations."

"They should be permitted to watch, required to watch the lead dog 
frequently. The odor and his full scale participation will teach them 
the final stages. All that remains, then, is the practice sessions 
until each dog is dependable and can perform on command. Each dog 
should be exercised and practiced with for a half hour each time. The 
frequency of the exercise is dependent upon the buyer's requirements of 
the dog or his ability to learn rapidly."

Carolyn paused, poured another glass of water and buried her nose in 
it, grateful for the moment to gather herself together. Jason's ever-
present icy smile was beginning to unnerve her. She had learned in her 
first few weeks at Royal Benson Kennels that it meant trouble for her, 
the pleasant lull before the dark storm. And Mario, always galling her 
deliberately with his crude gestures and obscene talk. He had been 
toying with the zipper fastening on his fly for the last five minutes, 
sliding it down part way, zipping it up again, then down. Had they 
planned something together? She doubted that ... Jason had no more use 
for Mario than she did, really, he tolerated him because he needed him. 
No, Jason knew something. Mario was merely being Mario. Obnoxious! She 
finished the glass of water, returned it to the counter and took a deep 
breath.

"What else shall I explain?" She asked, hoping this would have 
satisfied the leering man but knowing she would not get off so easily.

"You might tell us about ... oh, let me see, about the special training 
orders from outside. What are the procedures for basic training - how 
do they differ? - when the dog is already a house pet and fully grown? 
When he hasn't been trained since puppyhood for sexual relationships 
with his owners?" Jason suggested. He had noticed Mario's preoccupation 
with his pants zipper and that it had increased the girl's nervousness. 
He had even felt a twinge of pleasure in his own loins when her eye 
kept flicking back to the delinquent zipper. He liked the look of 
fearful apprehension. It made the flaccid beast in his own pants 
restless. He had not enjoyed a full orgasm for several weeks, not since 
the girl had accepted the dogs, and her own appetites had grown with 
constant use until she even accepted Mario's gross cock willingly after 
the third or fourth dog of the day. He had thought her debasement 
complete when she seemed to feel only the animal instincts and accept 
their sexual pleasures without complaint. If it didn't bother her, then 
it no longer stimulated him ... but it seemed there was still life and 
the nerve endings of her pious upbringing still nipped at her. Good. 
Good!

"Yes, Carolyn," Mario joined in. "Tell us about guest privileges 'n 
visiting mutts 'n how to teach old dogs new fuck tricks. How does a 
pretty young thing like you take a dog's cherry, Lollypop?"

"Specific situations, Jason?" she asked, ignoring Mario's running 
commentary of boorish remarks. "Or do you mean the basic tactics with 
untrained adult dogs?"
"Basics will do for a start."

"Anything will do for a start," Mario chimed in, "It's her finishes 
that turn a man's dong inside out!"

"Don't mind Mario, my dear," Jason smiled facetiously at the girl. 
"He's a young boy and very ... anxious. Continue, continue."

"When you receive an untrained house pet for specialized training, you 
must first determine what the owner's preferences are. This is not 
always easy. Most people who turn to animals for sexual release have 
some sort of a problem. They are usually hesitant to explain and hope a 
professionally trained sex dog will just happen to know all the tricks. 
Basically, dog lovers fall into three classes of people - lonely 
unpopular women who are symbolically in love with their dogs; 
unattractive men, or older men who can no longer attract women into 
their beds with looks or money, or the oversexed who simply cannot get 
enough sexual experiences. The ones who are interested in 'something 
different' are among the minority, even though a well-trained dog is 
equally if not more effective in technique and has endless endurance.
"Privately owned dogs are very difficult to teach because they are like 
spoiled children, undisciplined, untrained and hard to control. The 
best procedure is to allow the animal to excite himself the first few 
times - be in his vicinity and unclothed, frequently fondle and pet 
him, scratch his ears, anything which will encourage him to stand with 
his nose in the vicinity of your legs where he will catch the sexual 
scent. Nature will take care of his arousal and interest in the female 
odor. Spread your legs and make it easily available - whether its a 
man's penis or a woman's body - almost any dog will begin licking 
immediately. Time and encouragement will kindle an almost rabid 
interest.

"... and ..." Jason prompted. He was beginning to squirm deliberately 
on his stool. He knew Carolyn was aware of his movements and he wanted 
it that way. She must suspect something was in the plans for the day, 
something special that she would gradually grow to fear and to dread. 
It made the game of stud and whore all the more intriguing to him.

"And after the dog himself has decided he is aroused, and after you 
have let him lick his fill several times, you will find he is an apt 
pupil for new tricks." Carolyn paused, thinking quickly, she didn't 
want to give any excuse for Jason's possible punishments. "It is a rare 
house pet, if he is adult, who can be trained in the finer arts of 
bestiality. Nearly all animals, however, can be trained to lick and to 
... and to complete the normal sex act with a woman."
"Very good. You have an excellent memory, my dear." Jason commented. 
"You must have your heart in your work."

"Her snappin' little old pussy ain't far behind either," came Mario's 
inevitable addition. "Haven't you ever heard that old rib, boss. A 
pecker in the mouth is worth two in the bush? Well, she has a fuzzy 
bush but by the time she's had two of them ole Danes pumping it to her, 
she's looking for one in the mouth. Aren't ya, Lollypop?"

Mario suddenly ripped his zipper to the crotch and shook out his fat 
firm penis. Bouncing it in his hand, he began to sing the words to the 
song ... Lollypop, Lollypop ... skinning the head back on each 'pop' 
syllable.

Jason watched the look of horror finally win out and sweep across 
Carolyn's face. Immediately, he knew the thrill of answering tingles in 
his loins. Maybe now was the time. Maybe if he gave the girl to that 
stupid oaf, she would be mad enough, frightened enough to cause his own 
worn waif to raise his head honorably ... and then he'd show her! He'd 
show that woman that no one spoke down to Jason Benson.

"Mario????" he began softly, "You haven't taken many 'privileges' 
lately, have you? I've been feeling guilty about that. You've worked 
for me for a long time and sometimes I forget how hard you work ... 
would you like to?? ... would you have any new ideas for???? ... I 
think we could find time for a coffee break if you needed to do 
anything???"

"Jason, how could you?" Carolyn shrilled. "I thought we'd been through 
all that ... that ..."

"All what, my dear?" Jason cooed. "I rather got the impression that all 
your sexy conversation had given our dear friend a problem. Now you 
wouldn't want a dear friend to have a problem, would you? WOULD YOU?" 
His tone suddenly went sour and he reached for the nearest whip on the 
rack behind him. He pulled it slowly from its peg and began to snake it 
across the floor to his stool.

Carolyn stared. She had thought it was all over. She had the dogs all 
day and ... and she usually took Mario before the day was over, when 
the dogs had her so hot she was nearly out of her mind. But that didn't 
count. When a woman was sexually hot, the things she did were ... were 
different. She wasn't hot now. She was scared. Scared silly.

"We ... we haven't finished the testing. Can't we finish the test 
first?" she pleaded.
"She does have a point, Mario," Jason teased.

"Well, shit, so do I!" Mario yelled impatiently. "I got a point right 
here in my hand that's gonna be shoved clear down her smart-talking 
throat!" He got down from the stool and headed for Carolyn.

"MARIO!" Jason's voice was cold steel in the quiet room.

His voice was like the rumble of thunder. Mario stopped dead in his 
tracks. He didn't turn around to look at Jason Benson but he stood 
stock still.

"I had a thought, Mario." Jason said softly in his direction. "Why 
don't we let her finish the test and ..."
"... and hell!"

"... and see if she can think under duress" Jason continued as if he 
hadn't been interrupted at all. "If a woman can think clearly under 
great stress, she should know her lessons pretty well, wouldn't you 
say?"

"Yeah," Mario agreed hesitantly. He wasn't sure whether Jason's idea 
was intended for Jason's benefit or his own. It was hard to tell. 
"Yeah, I guess so, but what do ya' have in mind?"

"Well," Jason began, his eyes on Carolyn's, never faltering, never 
looking away. "We owe Carolyn something too. She hasn't been with us 
long but she has been very good with the dogs and worked very hard. I 
had a treat in mind that I'm sure you would both enjoy ... eventually 
..."
Carolyn felt her skin turn cold.

"Yeah?" Mario bounced on his stool like a demented child. "What we 
gonna do, boss, what, what? What we gonna do to her?"

"Do to her? Why, my dear boy, I'm not going to do anything to her. 
Where do you get such mundane ideas?" Jason teased, his eyes still 
blazing into hers. "I only meant that the two of you have worked so 
hard with the dogs, and Carolyn has learned her lessons well ... I 
thought I might give you a chance to really let down your hair and 
celebrate. Would you like that, Carolyn, would you enjoy a big 
party???"

Carolyn had the feeling she was being led down the ramp to slaughter, 
following the Judas goat. Jason had never had a guest in his house 
since she had come to work there several months before. There were only 
the rare appointments with legitimate dog breeders when she was warned 
to stay out of sight, and the late night visits of potential buyers who 
looked over the stock and selected an animal for training and then 
departed as quietly as they came. No one for a party. No one would 
accept an invitation from him, if they knew him, but the devil himself! 
What was he up to? She returned his stare with curious eyes but didn't 
speak.
Mario, however, was visibly upset.

"What's a party got to do with a little fuckin' right here and now?" 
Mario complained. "I thought you meant ..."

"Patience, my boy, patience." Jason looked at him and winked broadly, 
making certain that Carolyn saw the gesture of reassurance. "This is 
still a work day, you know, and I think we should finish Carolyn's test 
first like she said. I only mentioned the party to give you both 
something to look forward to. We'll discuss the party in a little while 
... and how many guests we should include."

Jason let his eyes burn a hole between her legs. Had she gotten the 
veiled implication? He wanted to see her suffer. His eyes returned to 
her face. He watched her expressions carefully. He wanted to see the 
look of fresh horror scratched across her pretty face when she realized 
what he meant. And he wasn't disappointed. He had finally broken her. 
After weeks of immobile expressions and silent acceptance of the sexual 
favors asked of her, he had broken her will to his! The look of terror 
had returned to her face. The sleeping penis between his thighs knew 
and was slowly awakening. It was lying there listening to its own 
heartbeat growing louder and louder. Jason's enthusiasm knew no bounds, 
nor his methods any morals.

"How many males are ready for sale right now, Mario?" he asked the 
young man suddenly. 

"All ready? Well, there's the big pair of fawns from Long Island ... 
the brindle with the big cock ... aaaa ... the two black Danes on the 
end of the row," Mario pointed toward the first row of cages "... and 
... and ... oh yeah, there's four big studs in the indoor runs, the 
ones we finished up with last week. That makes nine altogether, I 
think."
Jason smiled and nodded his head.

"Nine. Hmmmm. Nice round number for a party, wouldn't you say?"

Mario frowned. What's so great about that? They'd been working those 
dogs for months. One more screwing wasn't no goddam big deal!

"You don't understand, dear boy." Jason's voice was no more than a 
hoarse whisper. "I thought we'd hold the party in the indoor arena ... 
and we'll let Carolyn welcome our guests ... all of them ... all at 
once."

There was a sharp gasp as Carolyn caught her breath. Her hand flew to 
her mouth and she bit hard on one finger. He couldn't mean all nine 
Great Danes mauling around her naked body at once. Nine animals, all 
trained to respond sexually at the sight of a woman's bare body, nine! 
He couldn't mean that.
But he did.

The next hour was hell encapsulated. Carolyn recited by rote the 
hundred questions Jason threw at her and all the while her mind's eye 
saw the rape of her tender flesh beneath the milling dogs. Her eyes 
were wide and she stared fixedly at the cages at the other end of the 
room, shivered when the dogs stared at her, felt chilled at the 
occasional pointed penis which peeked out of its hairy sheath. He 
continued to throw questions at her as if nothing had occurred. She 
answered them tonelessly, her voice as numb as her shocked mind.

"If the dog's organ won't slide through the T-shaped opening slit on 
the sheath, surgery will painlessly lengthen the extremities of the T."


"To effect total copulation, the dog knot must slide completely out of 
the sheath. This will force the tight sheath behind the knot and keep 
the bare penis exposed throughout the entire sex act."


"Dog-hair stimulation means that the hairy sheath itself is inserted in 
the vagina - this happens frequently if the sheath is not deliberately 
skinned back behind the knot and the rubbing of the stiff short hair in 
the vagina excites the user to repeated orgasms before the dog is hung 
up."


"No, most dogs are no larger than a man, sometimes less in 
circumference, but the dog knot swells to three-inch widths and is 
located half way down the penis where it rubs the most susceptible 
parts of the inner vagina."


"It is possible to increase an animal's penis size by proper 
stimulation daily if it is begun as a puppy. Animals are still by and 
large in the 'adjusting' stage where the body acclimates itself to its 
environments - animals grow long hair if the weather is cold, shed if 
the weather is hot, lose sight and develop hearing if confined in the 
dark, grow heavier muscles if their daily activities show a need. If 
the organ is exercised manually from puppyhood, the body will adjust 
its capacities to the muscle requirement. It may increase as much as an 
inch in width and two inches in length."


On and on Carolyn droned in answer to his smiling questions, not 
seeming to hear, yet making the proper replies. She could almost hear 
the animals sniffing at her body, feel the hot wet tongues upon her 
skin, the hard pointed tips jabbing into her flesh here, there and 
everywhere, for an excited animal knows only the need to hump. If her 
bitch's hole was filled, they would mount an arm or a leg and hump the 
hard point into any part of her warm flesh. It all smelled of woman and 
they felt only the need to hump against it.


"No, a dog's tail need not be docked off to allow a man to comfortably 
use him. Training will teach him to keep it out of the way."


"A male will accept rectal insertion as readily as a female will accept 
a man, the advantage of the male being that he is very genuinely 
excited by the sexual scent whereas the female simply waits for you to 
finish and go away."


"Simple surgery should be performed on dogs intended for sex usage, 
separating the thin web of skin which holds the sheath tight up against 
the body. The operation is a simple one taking but a couple of minutes 
and rarely even bleeds. It will allow the heavy sheath to hang down and 
affords more accessibility, dog-hair insertions, and of course the 
extremely sensual appearance of the long organ case hanging low beneath 
the dog's stomach. The head will frequently remain exposed after such 
surgery even in a state of dormancy."


Carolyn's throat was dry. It was hard to swallow, hard to speak. The 
faint scent of fear which animals sense had invaded the cage area and 
all the Danes were on their feet and pacing nervously back and forth in 
their cages.

"One last question, my dear," Jason said with a contented sigh, "and 
then we can get on with our party preparations. Carolyn, how does one 
train an animal not to embarrass its owner in front of less 
understanding guests who might visit the home occasionally?"

Her voice had the mechanical sound of an old wind-up phonograph, 
weirdly falsetto and trembling.

"From the first day of sex training, a dog must be oriented to key 
words ... down, for instance, should mean no smelling, licking or sex 
indications. If the dog's organ is dragging in front of a guest, a 
sharp slap directly to the offending organ will kill the urge instantly 
and it will disappear back into its sheath. A hard thump with the thumb 
and forefinger, like shooting marbles, will accomplish the same thing. 
The owner or trainer must select a specific word for each service the 
dog is to perform and he is trained to respond only to that word and 
not to act upon his own. Some dogs are trained to respond only to 
patting on the part of the body he is to work on, some associate sex 
services only with an unclothed body. The important secret is to never 
under any circumstances vary the dog's signals."

Finally silent, Carolyn no longer had the memorized words to hide 
behind. Jason smiled at her, his dark eyes bright with satyric luster, 
and nodded his head with approval.

"You have learned your lessons well, my dear," he leered at her crossed 
legs, "and now you shall enjoy your reward."

He stood up, waved a beckoning hand at his assistant and walked to the 
row of large storage cabinets behind the pup cages. He pressed a 
section of the floor molding and turned to smile at the trembling girl. 
Behind him, one whole cabinet and the three foot section of wall behind 
it moved on its own axis and revealed a hidden room. Carolyn stared. 
She had not known about the hidden door ... nor the sadistic torments 
that must lie within. A small sob caught in her throat.

"Come, come, you two. Don't tarry." Jason had picked up one of the 
braided whips on his way across the room and he slapped it against his 
leg impatiently now. "Our guests are anxious to meet you again, Carolyn 
... under less formal, less restrictive circumstances. Controlled 
experiments are such a bore, don't you agree?"


Chapter Ten


Jason held the door open and beckoned for his two charges to enter. 
Mario slid off his stool, hitched his tight continentals up to ease the 
strain on his heavy-headed organ which bounced freely in the open fly, 
and headed for the door with a smile on his face. It had been a long 
time, too long, since he had been involved with more than the daily 
routines of sex training.

He liked the special effects of Jason's cruelties. It always meant 
something different, something exciting, for him too for Jason 
inevitably
worked his victims up to fever pitch and left them wanting and begging 
for help. Mario smiled as he went through the door. He would help them. 
He would feed their ravenous appetites. Tube feed them, like hungry 
helpless babes, until they cried enough ... and a little more.

"We're waiting, Carolyn," Jason flicked the braided quirt against his 
pant leg. 'I do hope you will join us ... willingly."

Carolyn knew she had no choice. She forced her reluctant legs to carry 
her across the room, past Jason's extended arm on the door, and into 
the secret room. Perhaps it wouldn't be ... too bad. After all, she had 
known the dogs for two months, worked with them, known the feel of 
their tongues and their humps. 'Uncontrolled experiment' Jason had 
said. Uncontrolled? The word worried her. If Jason merely intended for 
her to take on the nine Danes one after the other to see her suffer, 
welll ... she would be totally exhausted, probably raw and sore, but 
she could stand it. But he had said 'uncontrolled' and 'experiment' and 
she felt the chill of mortal fear at the sound of his voice mouthing 
the words. She heard the door swing shut behind her. Escape was gone.

"Well now," Jason began, "why don't we all get comfortable for the 
party, hmmm?" He began unbuttoning the top buttons of his expensive 
sport shirt and looked expectantly first at Mario and then at Carolyn.

"You can lay your things here," he indicated the line of velour covered 
theater-type seats which ran in a single circular row around the 
perimeter of the room. "You too, my dear."

Carolyn shivered. There was no use putting off the inevitable. If he 
found her obedience too slow, he would use the bite of the whip to 
speed her up. She had learned that lesson the hard way and had a few 
faint scars to remind her of his accuracy. She reached behind her and 
slid the long zipper down the back of her dress, let it slide off her 
shoulders, down her slim body and then carefully stepped out of it. 
It's fresh cherry color was sensually dramatic against the deep royal 
blue of the velour seats. Royal Benson blue, she thought ironically, 
what else? Jason had bent over and was fussing with a knotted shoe 
string. It gave Carolyn a minute to look around the secret room, 'the 
arena' Jason had called it.

It was an average size room, perhaps fifteen feet square, but there the 
normalcy ended. Theatre seats had been bolted to the floor in a perfect 
circle. There were twenty chairs in all, an opening the width of two 
additional seats left on each side of the room, one where the swinging 
doors had let them in and another on the opposite side of the room 
before a second doorway.
Carolyn wondered where the doorway led. She had never been beyond the 
lab area. Mario cared for the show dogs, some of whom he had said were 
kenneled in the outer areas. Naive to the point of stupidity, she 
chided herself, she had never given a thought to what else lay beyond 
the door. Perhaps if she had known, she would not have decided to 
remain at Royal Benson Kennels for the sake of the money.

She pressed a speculative finger into the royal blue velour of the near 
seat. It was expensively padded and soft. It would be, she knew. Jason 
Benson could afford the best and it made him feel important to prove 
his worth to anyone ... even to whomever shared the seats of this 
barbaric stage. That's what it was, she was certain. What else could it 
be? She looked about carefully. Perhaps there was a clue to its use. 
The walls were subtly toned in shades of blue. Well appointed light 
fixtures, shaded and pointed toward the ceiling, gave the room the 
faintly ethereal appearance of an old Grecian stage in the moonlight. 
Just within the entrance door hung a plate of silent switches which 
could, no doubt, heighten the lighting effects. Jason was effective ... 
if immoral.

Subconsciously perhaps, Carolyn had avoided looking at the center stage 
but now her eyes could avoid it no longer. The blue patterned carpeting 
reached from the wall beneath the seats, then a circle of subtle gold 
about twelve inches wide encircled the raised dais of the stage. The 
stage itself was raised some six inches above the normal floor level 
and was carpeted in the same solid royal blue tone of the velour seats 
and decorations. She didn't bend to touch its texture but she knew that 
it would be thick and dense and luxuriously soft beneath her fingers. 
It was a lovely room ... she wished she was not a part of its brutal 
entertainment.

Jason's eyes had been on the girl for some time, watching her 
expressions as she surveyed the opulence of the room, enjoying the 
controlled revulsion that flooded her eyes as she stared at the raised 
platform center. She knew, she thought she knew what lay ahead for her 
... but the subtle gnawing fear of not being sure gave her a helpless 
appeal. Jason's usually dormant desires were already warming with 
anticipation. He pressed his hands, palms flat, against his groin and 
held them there. He could feel the warmth of body heat and the small 
bulge that meant his penis was beginning to make ready beneath his 
pants. He undid the button and released the zipper lock.

"God, you two are slow!" came Mario's harsh impatient voice, "Let's get 
this show the hell on the road!"

"Patience, my boy, patience." Jason calmed Mario with a look of 
warning. He didn't intend to hurry these last subtle moments of 
waiting. Only the inexperienced gulped down the delights of love, and 
then were hungry again. The wise savored each exquisite flavor and 
committed each sensation to memory, to be relived in the privacy of 
one's thoughts time and time again in the lonely hours of the night. 
The agonizing anticipation was the gourmet sauce of any sexual appetite 
and he, Jason Benson, certainly intended to make the most of his 
opportunities.

"You must not keep your 'guests' waiting, dear girl," Jason tormented. 
"Do continue with your disrobing."

Carolyn reluctantly reached behind her back and released the hook which 
held the brassiere and let the large lacy cups give up their heavy 
burden. In the subtle light of the blue room, her full-pointed breasts 
took on the appearance of delicately carved marble. She hooked her 
fingers in the elastic band of the gossamer panties and slid them over 
the gentle curve of her hips. Carolyn felt suddenly alone and utterly 
helpless in the presence of insanity. In these awful moments before one 
of Jason's perverted sex sessions, she always felt the illusive quality 
of insanity. She too must be insane to have thought she could bear up 
under his madness for long. Money wasn't worth it.

What really bothered her, Carolyn knew, was not the loss of income 
should she find a means of escape ... but the knowledge that she had 
come to need the violent inescapable uncontrollable sexual reactions. 
Her body craved the prolonged stimulations which always brought her to 
the brink of ecstasy where the morals of civilization no longer 
mattered, where nothing mattered except wild wonderful orgasms. There! 
She had finally admitted it. She was afraid of Jason Benson ... but she 
was more afraid of doing without the sexual satisfaction the dogs gave 
her. There was a certain relief in admitting it to herself, Carolyn 
thought, but a psychologically unnerving thing to realize that a man 
couldn't satisfy her animal appetites.

My god! The realization hit her suddenly. I've become no more than an 
animal myself! She gripped the back of the seat where she had been 
absentmindedly laying her bra and panties, gripped until her fingers 
were white. I've got to get out of here ... now ... NOW! Or I'll go 
mad!

* * *

She turned suddenly and ran for the door, clawing at its flat closed 
surface like a trapped animal fleeing for its life. Dry sobs racked her 
naked body as she leaned against the cool metal surface, fingers 
searching for the hidden mechanism which released the electric lock. 
Loud sobs born deep within her tormented mind, sobs which shook her 
whole body and left her weak. Carolyn slowly sank to her knees before 
the door, hung her head and whimpered softly for a moment, then she was 
silent. Streams of tears ran down her face, across her bare breasts and 
made the final leap to her legs and to the floor. But sound had ceased. 
A soul dies silently. Only the body suffers audibly.

"Jesus H. Christ! What got into her?" Mario gasped.

Jason wore the icy smile of irony which marked his face in moments of 
stress to others. He'd wallow in the misery of others, bask in shadow 
of their suffering. And why shouldn't he, Jason thought as he watched 
Carolyn slumped before the locked door, why shouldn't he? Twenty years 
of sexual servitude to the old and the ugly, twenty years of culling 
through the dregs of unwanted womanhood to skim off a living ... ahhhh 
but no more. Jason drew himself up to his full stature, somewhat less 
imposing in the nude than when he was expensively tailored, and became 
the Lord and Master of his desperate little world.

"Mario!" His voice clear and firm in the silence of the room. "You will 
tie the woman to the dais!"

"Tie her?" Mario questioned. "She really digs the dogs, boss, I don't 
think we have to tie her down."

"You don't think? You don't think?" Jason roared. "Why, you demented 
... psychotic ... little ... little pimp! You haven't brains enough to 
think. You haven't the sensitivities of the average pig. Think? All you 
can think about is that oversized mindless prick of yours, that gross 
bloated mistake of nature. You can't do anything right. You can't even 
grow a normal sized prick."

Jason's face was turning red. He had despised Mario Santos since the 
first time he had seen one of his women look at Mario's large organ in 
preference to his own diminutive one. He had hated the slow-witted 
Italian for his youthful good looks, his lean muscular body and most of 
all for the generosity of his equipment. For years he had contained his 
hate and taken perverse pleasure in turning the dull witted boy away 
from the normal sexual pleasures by inducing him to partake of the 
animals of the kennel. He would have disposed of him ... except that he 
needed a strong back and a weak mind to help with all the kennel work. 
You couldn't hire just anyone to work in the special section. You could 
trick a woman, as he had tricked Carolyn and all the others with the 
dog photos and the threat of prison, but you couldn't trick a man. Not 
a mentally stable man. Mario had the mind of a twelve-year-old child, 
the needs of a man, and could be led around by his disgusting prick as 
simply as leading a horse by the halter. He hated the boy. Hated him! 
And hated his long fat disgusting penis!
"I said tie her down!"
"Okay, okay, don't lose your cool."

Mario stalked resentfully over to where Carolyn still slumped before 
the locked door and roughly pulled her to her feet by one wrist.

"Come on, baby," he growled. "Let's tie that hot little pussy cat to 
the floor and let the dogs chase it."

Carolyn followed numbly behind the grumbling Mario as he lead her by 
one arm to the blue-carpeted platform in the center of the room. Her 
cheeks were streaked with tear stains, some wet, some drying into salty 
trails already from the feverish heat of her body. Mario pressed down 
upon her shoulders and she sank upon the carpet like a rag doll, limp 
and totally unresisting.

Mario began to feel about on the carpet, running his fingers across the 
plush weave, and groaning when his bare knee found one of the concealed 
metal rings he sought. He rubbed the injured flesh, then lifted up on 
the ring. A small circle of blue carpet raised up to reveal a leather 
wristlet fastened to the floor beneath. He reached around, grabbed 
Carolyn's wrist and pulled her toward the ring, snapping the clasp shut 
with a loud click. She looked at her wrist with dull eyes but showed no 
sign of emotion. Mario moved to the other side, found the removable 
ring and pinioned one ankle to the floor as well.

Jason watched with great anticipation as his assistant spread-eagled 
the unresisting girl to the platform, stretching her ivory form into a 
fleshy "X" upon the deep pile carpet. She stared straight up at the 
ceiling now, breathing softly through her parted lips, her eyes lightly 
glazed with the shock of realization. Not seeing. Not caring.

"There!" Mario grinned at his employer when his task was finished. 
"Shall I get the dogs now?"

Jason continued to stare at the girl's tight stretched position. The 
faint glow of the neon tube lighting made her skin look like white 
alabaster. Like a gigantic woman-shaped pearl upon a deep blue 
jeweler's cloth. The perfect setting, Jason thought happily, for his 
ultimate experiment.

"Yes," Jason answered finally, "Yes, Mario, you may bring in the dogs. 
Wait ... I want you to bring all the dogs who have completed their 
training, except the King of course, bring all the sale animals into 
the holding run ... all nine of the lovely brutes.. and then come back 
here to the arena. I will release them from here."

Jason continued to stare at the still body, naked upon its jeweler's 
plush, his own naked form blue-veined and anemic in comparison to the 
beautiful ivoried perfection of Carolyn's living sculpture.

"Yes," he muttered to himself, "I will release them from here. I want 
to see all nine of my lovely boys use her treacherous woman's body."

"You mean all at once, boss? You wanna turn nine full grown Danes loose 
in here at once?"

"Yes, Mario, that is exactly what I mean!" His lustful eyes never left 
the girl's body. The frozen smile never changing.

"They can't all use her at once." Mario shook his head a little with 
the confusion of the situation. It was sometimes hard for him to grasp 
a thought in its entirety as Jason did. Sometimes hard to envision the 
results of Jason's intricately planned debaucheries. "They'll walk all 
over her ... and maybe even fight over her cunt."

"Uh hmmmmm, they might just do that, Mario." Jason agreed delightedly. 
His sparse hands had once again begun to slide up and down over his 
groin, palms flat down. Soon he would feel the wonderful awareness. 
Soon. "Get the dogs ready, Mario, and ... and hurry."

"You're sure you want all nine of them big brutes in here at once?" 
Mario questioned. He had never seen such a thing. Nine huge humping 
dogs around the helpless girl ... he began to feel the excitement of 
the thing ... yes, yes it would be exciting, wouldn't it? It would! 
"Yeah, yeah sure, boss. I'll go get the dogs ready. Right now!"

Mario hurried from the room. The electric door slid silently shut 
behind him and there was no sound in the room. Jason looked up at the 
ceiling, then at the walls. It had been a difficult job installing all 
the soundproofing but it had been worth the effort. It would have been 
impossible to call in a contractor for that little job. Impossible to 
explain the arena with its raised dais and the tie-rings, the circle of 
chairs, the lighting ... and the soundproofed walls. Yes, very hard to 
explain, so he and Mario and done the entire job themselves. It had 
taken nearly three months during the off-show season but it had paid 
for itself many times over. The dog buyers who came in the night, who 
watched the magnificent performances of his trained animals and their 
willing woman slaves, and then pleaded to buy Jason Benson's dog lovers 
at fantastic prices while their loins were still hot and hurting. A 
buyer who watched 'the King' at work always paid double the price of 
the one who bought sight unseen, and unidentified, through a mutual 
friend. Jason didn't care who bought his dogs, or how ridiculous their 
attempts at remaining anonymous ... his prices justified the 
inconvenience.

He settled his bare buttocks comfortably in one of the velour chairs, 
leaned on his hand, and continued to stare at the human work of art 
displayed upon the blue dais. This one would bring him much money ... 
she was small and delicate, fragile of coloring like an expensive china 
doll ... she would look great beneath the massive muscles of his big 
Danes ... fragile, helpless, young. Perhaps he would soften the lights 
even more when a buyer was here. It would hide the subtle age lines in 
her face, make her look even younger and more virginal. And when she 
became excited beneath the humping dog - they always, always did - his 
buyer would pay through the nose. She was the prettiest girl he had 
used yet. When his boys humped her for a customer, it would mean a 
thousand dollars a dog! Jason smiled. He rubbed his stomach, his legs, 
and pulled repeatedly on the stub of his slowly awakening penis. What 
was delaying that young whelp Mario? He could hear the faint pawing 
sounds of the dogs in the holding run.

Just then there was the soft whir of the opening door, the closing 
door, and Mario flopped himself unceremoniously into the adjoining 
seat. His meaty organ made a loud slapping sound against his leg, then 
rolled back between his thighs. Jason glared at the offending organ. 
How did it stay so hard all the time? It was disgusting, disgusting.

"All ready, boss." He grinned happily at Jason Benson. "Got all nine of 
'em in the run just waiting. Shall I turn 'em loose on her????"

Jason glanced at the door that held the sniffing Danes at bay. He 
studied the silent still body on the platform before him. The girl 
still stared at the ceiling, her face utterly devoid of expression. He 
wondered if she had heard what they had said. Probably not, she was in 
the initial stages of light shock. Mental, not physical, he thought 
gratefully. She would still react to the dogs once they got her turned 
on and full of the hots.

"Yes, Mario," Jason nodded his head slowly, savoring the final minutes 
before her fall to the dogs. It was going to be an experiment beyond 
the magnitude of anything he had tried before. He couldn't wait to see 
how it would turn out. "Yes, Mario, press the button and release the 
dogs."

Mario scurried out of his seat and over to the control panel.

"... and then sit over there ..." Jason indicated the far side of the 
area. He didn't want to have to see that swollen monstrosity of the 
boy's as it grew even fatter under the excitement of the dogs.


Chapter Eleven


Mario pressed the third button on the panel and the metal door opposite 
slid up and out of sight into the panel above, leaving the way open. 
The nearest dog turned at the sound of the door opening, stared into 
the darkened room, sniffed at the doorway and then cautiously entered 
the room. Behind him another ... and another ... each sniffing and 
smelling their new surroundings, assuring themselves of its safety and 
its occupants.
"Close the door, Mario."

There was an answering whir and then the shadowed figure of Mario 
crossing behind the lighted platform and seating himself in one of the 
chairs opposite Jason.

The dogs milled around, sniffing the chairs, the platform, each other. 
Several times soft growls met the sniffing muzzles but the dogs sensed 
something more important than canine squabbles. Then Diablo, a huge 
fawn male with a black mask and rippling muscles, sniffed at Carolyn's 
leg. Sniffed again. The scent of the woman bitch was familiar, the 
spread of the open legs triggering his well trained mind, and he 
sniffed his way up her leg to the pink slit of her body. His cold black 
nose poked into the curls and sniffed again. His sudden whimper brought 
the other dogs ... and they too smelled the familiar odor of the woman 
bitch they had licked and used to bury their cocks in. They pranced 
excitedly and licked themselves.

Jason leaned forward in his seat, mouth open, his eyes dilated with the 
excitement of this woman's impending punishment. His hands hung slack 
from the arm rests of his seat. His excitement so intense that he had 
even forgotten to stroke his slow-stirring organ. It lay quietly limp 
between his thighs.

Across the arena, Mario too leaned forward in his chair. He ran his wet 
pointed tongue over his dry lips, poked it in and out of his pursed 
mouth like a tiny penis, waiting, waiting ... waiting for the dogs to 
suddenly go wild with the scent of her parted crotch and all try to 
screw her at once. He watched the huge fawn lick experimentally at the 
furry lips of the girl's V, then lick at his own vitals. Mario could 
see the pink mottled head peeking from its low hanging sheath, the hard 
point breaking through its T-cut slit in the hairy pouch. Diablo licked 
a white drop from its tip and then returned his massive head to the 
girl's open thighs. There wasn't the usual welcoming pat of her hand 
against the hairy lips of her woman bitch's body but the familiar scent 
was there. He licked at the scented flesh experimentally. And again. He 
waited for the pat-pat of her hand between her legs to signal him that 
he should lick the delicious dampness. His natural instincts told him 
to mate but his long months of training had been too well learned. He 
whined and pawed at the carpet, ran his long hot tongue up the open 
crease of flesh and looked at the girl. He whirled again. She didn't 
move.

Mario wanted to encourage the big dog to lick her, to hump her silly, 
but Jason had warned him to remain absolutely silent. He looked across 
at Jason.

* * *

It was interesting, very interesting, Jason thought as he watched the 
intriguing scene unfold before his eager eyes. The dogs all sensed the 
bitch's readiness but their training held them back. Even Diablo who 
had the place of honor momentarily with his huge black muzzle almost 
buried in her open crotch. He could see the animal's fleshy pink and 
black organ jutting from the hanging sheath. He was excited, no doubt 
about that, only the long months of training were holding him back. One 
word from him and they would fall upon her like a fresh bitch in heat. 
Jason chewed on his lower lip. Should he shout out the key word? Should 
he set them loose upon her? ... or let time take its toll? Perhaps that 
would be better. He watched a second animal discover the source of the 
woman scent and try to push Diablo's great muzzle aside. There was an 
answering growl. The second dog pulled his head back a few inches, 
looked longingly at the pink hole with its tempting odors of bitchy 
heat, then begin to lick at the flat flesh of Carolyn's stomach.

Perhaps he shouldn't allow them to take their head, Jason thought. If 
they were allowed to work without cue, they might become unruly. Yes, 
they might. And that would never do. He had better do something before 
instinct became too strong.

"Mario," Jason called across the room. "Walk up slowly on the platform 
between the dogs and pat the bitch's cunt. They've all been trained to 
the same signal and won't act without it."

Mario got up and slowly walked up on the stage. He wasn't afraid of the 
dogs, even in uncontrolled groups like this, but any animal, including 
man, became hostile in time of heat. He watched the dogs milling around 
the platform, stepping over her still body, sniffing the woman scent of 
her flesh, her arms, her legs, lapping experimentally at her high 
pointed breasts.

"Easy. Easy, boy." he walked slowly among them, trying to angle his way 
to a position amidst their crowded area where he could safely kneel 
down and start the action. "Move over, Brutus. Move, I said. Easy, 
fella. No, Bravo, not me, ya damn fool. Easy, boy."

Jason watched uneasily. He hadn't thought about this when he planned 
this little experiment. He didn't want the boy to set them off. His big 
dong swinging around like that, specially if it still had the smell of 
cunt on it from yesterday, might just set them off.

"Slowly, Mario," Jason said curtly. "Move among them very slowly. Don't 
try to kneel down, just bend over and pat it a few times. That should 
be enough. Once Diablo starts, the others will follow his lead."

Mario didn't look up. He was doing the best he could. Several of the 
dogs sniffed at his cock and licked at it. He pushed them away gently. 
Not now, ya cocksuckin' bastards, he muttered softly under his breath. 
There, now, he should he able to reach her fuzzy little pussy. He 
stretched from the waist.

"Here, Diablo, here boy." He patted the hairy mound invitingly. "Get 
it, boy lick it. LICK IT."

He continued to pat and the dog sniffed his hand and began to make long 
slow swipes with his tongue right on cue.

"Good boy, good boy." Mario started to rise up, then, "Ooohh! Stop 
that, ya queer mutt."

He was tempted to stay in the bent over position for a moment longer. 
Bravo's rough tongue had snaked into his buttocks crack and he felt the 
answering thrill of his flesh. But this was not the time ... not yet 
... he didn't want to miss a minute of the show that was about to take 
place. And take place right over him if he didn't get the hell out of 
there. The dogs had seen the signal, seen Diablo licking at the girl, 
and smelled the scent of her tongue-pressured loins. They were 
clustering around the licking dog, pushing their muzzles in, sticking 
their long eager tongues into the slit if the opportunity presented 
itself.

Mario eased his way through the crowded maze of huge dogs and breathed 
an audible sigh of relief when he was safely back in his seat. It 
wasn't that he was afraid of the dogs - they wouldn't hurt him, or 
anyone else, deliberately - it was just that Great Danes weigh from 150 
to 180 pounds each and when nine sex-hungry animals of that size get 
crowding around a fella, well somebody could bloody well get squashed. 
He leaned back in his seat, wriggled himself comfortable and fastened 
his hungry eyes on the scene before him. Jesus H. Jehosaphat, it was 
gonna be a real gasser.

Diablo had begun the long steady rhythm with his tongue that meant 
business. His dogpecker hung at parade rest and in mid-air beneath his 
sleek stomach. Diablo had been sheath-cut as a young pup and the normal 
weight of penis was enough to pull it down. Now, with the growing 
weight of his blood-gorging cock, it was a truly sensual sight to 
behold. The hairy outer sheath hung down about four inches, and from 
its T-slit opening hung another four inches of thick dogpecker. Its 
pointed tip held tenaciously to a white drop of liquid which rocked and 
jiggled as he licked at the girl. And the whole thing was rigid to the 
point of holding itself straight and firm.

Jason's eyes slid over Diablo's enviable equipment. Even the dogs were 
better hung than he was, Jason thought with resentment. Perhaps when he 
was as youthful as the dog ... but that had been too many rich widows 
and too many hard years ago, he could not remember. Nor did he want to 
remember. Anything! That Jason Benson was dead and buried beneath a 
thousand awful memories. A new Jason Benson had grown from the ashes - 
with the help of a sizable inheritance from his late wife who, he was 
certain, died of old age though she insisted to the bitter end that she 
was forty-four, may the Devil fuck her! - a new Jason Benson who needed 
no one and took his pleasures where he found them. Or arranged them, he 
chuckled lewdly to himself, watching the undulating mass of animal 
flesh beyond.

* * *

Diablo had settled himself firmly between Carolyn's open thighs, his 
wide heavy muzzle pressing the furry pink lips apart so his thick 
tongue could make long slow passes the width and length of the pink 
blossom between her legs. A huge black Dane with thick heavy legs and 
an enormous sheath half squatted over the girl's left side, alternately 
licking at the pink-titted mound of her breast and spreading his 
haunches to lick at the dark head of his wet penis as it slid in and 
out of its fat sheath. Sometimes he would halt the licking to make a 
few quick humping slams into her side, then lick the tender hard point 
of his organ again.

A great fawn beast licked at her hip and down her left leg, sniffing 
and licking and enjoying the faint bitch's scent of her. A fourth dog, 
a huge brindle-coated stud, nudged at the dog between her legs and 
tried to force him aside. Sometimes in his anxiety, he would straddle 
Diablo's broad fawn back and jab his hard pointed prick into his 
vulnerable hide. Diablo would raise his head and snap at the offender 
or sometimes just give him a warning growl and the brindle would cease 
his pummeling and try for another entry into the sweet-heat smell of 
the willing bitch they shared.

Three more dogs jostled each other to get to the woman on the floor, 
pushing and shoving, walking to the other side to try for a better 
vantage point. Another sat on his haunches and whined and watched. 
Still another tried to straddle the girl's still body and share the 
warm cunt with Diablo. His heavy paws missed their footing now and 
again and left red scratches across the tender white flesh of her 
sides. Diablo had licked the surface until it flowed with the warm 
wetness which meant it was time to mount and quickly he hunched his 
great muscled haunches over her open hole. The big beast who straddled 
the girl licked at the top of her damp split, almost colliding at times 
with the long pointed spear of the hunching Diablo. Two, three, four, 
five times he jabbed at the little bitch's hole and then the hard 
pointed penis buried its warm head in the woman's body and he threw his 
full weight behind his humps. Hard, hard, hard, he slammed into her 
body, spurred on by the excitement of the other dogs.

The girl moved beneath him. Jason looked carefully between the maze of 
constantly moving legs and tails and hanging cocks. Yes, she was 
moving. She was coming out of the mental lethargy, her own hungry cunt 
was calling her home as he knew it would. There was a soft moan of 
pleasure, the ugh, ugh, ugh of the body slams into her soft flesh, and 
then the long hmmmms of pleasure as her willing body answered the dog's 
call of the wild. Jason could see flashes of her face rolling from side 
to side as the dogs moved and pranced in their own excitement. Several 
dogs tried to push the humping Diablo aside but he was firmly set on 
his haunches. Their eager muzzles pressed between his hunching body and 
the girl's open cunt, trying to lick up the warm woman smell. Diablo 
tried to throw his cock into the bitch's hole, but the massive heads of 
his companions wouldn't allow him to get quite close enough to hang up 
... and then it was over for Diablo. He pulled off the girl's gesturing 
body and began licking his leaking organ.

The huge brindle stud and the big black tussled for the vacancy between 
Carolyn's tight stretched legs. A quick snarling fight began. They 
rolled over one another, snapping and growling, off the edge of the 
raised platform. Jason cracked them firmly with the steel hard whip 
handle, hitting both dogs across their nose bridge until they broke up 
and returned to the writhing mass of dogs on the stage. But it was too 
late, an enormous fawn Dane was already hard-humping at the girl's open 
crotch and she was moaning out her pleasure.

"Yes ... oh yes ... go, boy, go!" Carolyn's rolling pleasure was 
unmistakable, the thrill of the mass attack, nine rough hard tongues 
ravaging her body, a fat cock in her hole, tongues licking at her 
everywhere. Somebody was humping over her outstretched arm. She could 
feel the warm hairy sheath sliding back and forth on her arm and the 
wetness of the hard pointed organ against her bare skin. Another jabbed 
hard at her right side. She could hear the canine quarreling over her 
hot throbbing cunt. She felt the scratch of heavy paws as one dog 
pushed another aside and took his place with a fresh hard dogpecker 
stabbing between her legs. She knew her body would be a mangled mass of 
red bloody scratches from their heavy paws. She felt the hot cum of 
another dog running off her heaving sides. And another. There were 
endless tongues licking at the exciting smell of her, licking at the 
dribbles upon her skin and becoming excited in turn like an endless 
merry-go-round of cum-lick-cum. She felt the beginning dog knot ripping 
at her entry, felt another muzzle licking at it and at her, forcing the 
dogknot to give up its burden of warm wet fluid and back away to be 
licked and cleaned and worked into shape again. Another dog took his 
place at her loins and began to pump his heavy headed organ into her. 
His fat firm sheath worked its way into her hole, the short stiff hairs 
scratching her insides into sheer ecstasy. She wondered if the pink 
organ was extending on into her depths, on beyond the length of the 
fuzzy hard sheath, but she couldn't tell. The prickly surface of the 
dog hair was driving her wild. One orgasm followed upon the heels of 
the first until they seemed to blend into one continual burst of 
unendurable pleasure. It was awful! It was wonderful!

And Carolyn screamed. And screamed. And fainted.

* * *

The door to the arena was open. Carolyn turned toward the sound of loud 
voices and running feet ... and moaned with pain. She tried to move her 
arms experimentally. At first she thought she was still fastened to the 
platform but she could see her right wrist and it was free. The open 
shackle lay on the carpet several inches away. She tried to move her 
legs and the pain was excruciating. She wasn't fastened down. It took 
several moments before she could shake her mind free of the misty pain 
and realize what was happening. She lay breathing heavily and trying 
not to move. It hurt to move. She listened to the sound of metal cage 
doors slamming and voices urging the dogs. It was a hurried frantic 
kind of noise.

"Here, boy!" she could recognize Mario's excited nasal tones. "Hurry 
up, damn ya."

"Take this one too." It was Jason's high pitch of excitement. "You'll 
have to put two in a cage or we'll never get all the trained dogs out 
of here in time."

Carolyn heard two more cage doors slam, then the whir of the outer door 
and the scratch of paws upon the tile getting farther away. She shook 
her head. What was going on? What was happening? She tried to get up. 
The pain between her ravaged thighs was almost unbearable. She felt wet 
and sticky all over. And she smelled. Smelled of dog urine and semen 
and sweat. And she ached all over. Finally she made it to her feet and, 
still naked, she stumbled across the raised dais and up the narrow 
aisle to the door.

The lab was in an uproar. Paper was all over the floor, some of the 
cages were empty and the doors left ajar, the registry book was piled 
on top of a box of mixed and wrinkled papers and Jason was struggling 
through the outer door with it, strewing papers as he went. Carolyn 
leaned weakly against the door to steady herself. She could see the van 
backed up to the door, its built-in cages crammed with barking dogs. 
Several cardboard boxes were stacked in the aisle.
Mario and Jason were gesturing wildly to each other outside the door. 
She couldn't hear what they were saying because of the din the excited 
dogs were making. She watched Jason pointing vigorously toward the 
front of the house, saw Mario shrug his shoulders and move off at a 
hurried gait. Jason came back into the shambles of the once immaculate 
lab area.

"Jason," Carolyn said weakly, but he didn't seem to hear her. "JASON!"

He turned toward her with empty haunted eyes, blankly as if responding 
to the familiar sound of his name but not really aware of his 
surroundings.

"JASON, what's going on? What happened?" she yelled at him.

"Gotta get out of here, gotta go now, gotta get the dogs where it's 
safe," and he turned and scurried off across the room to fumble with 
the combination lock of the next cage. The big Dane within sensed his 
confusion, knew something was wrong, and pranced and whined.

Mario came through the electric door from the front office with a set 
of books, pedigree records Carolyn recognized, in his arms. He plopped 
them down on the cage next to Jason and hurried back to the big 
refrigerator where several hundred pounds of fresh meat was kept at all 
times. He hurriedly began to pile great chunks of frozen meat into the 
boxes.

Carolyn forced herself across the room to where Mario packed the meat. 
He was wearing only his slacks, no shirt.

"Mario, what in the world is going on? What happened? Where are you 
going with the dogs?"
"Oh, you're back with us. Good. You can help. Here," he shoved an empty 
box into her arms "Here, pack this up with the frozen stuff and HURRY."

"Mario, WHAT HAPPENED?" She grabbed his bare arm and shook him.

"Okay, okay, don't tear the merchandise, baby," he answered 
impatiently. "While you was having yourself a fuckin' ball in there, 
the boss got a hot call. Seems somebody's in the hospital with his 
prick bit off. Got t'beating up one of the dogs and the dog bit back. 
Serves the bloody queer right well and good, too! He's the one we sold 
the big brindle stud to a couple weeks after you first come, remember? 
The one who said he liked to beat his women and see 'em bawl 'fore he 
could get his rocks off? Well, the boss told him not to beat the dog, 
told him plain and clear, he did. I heard him. Anyways, this queer 
prick got to beatin' on some broad that the dog was used to screwin' 
regular like and seems the dog was sorta attached to her, ya know, and 
he didn't like the guy whipping her. So he growled at him and got 
between him and the girl. The guy started whippin' the dog and the dog 
bit 'em. Bloody well serves him right if ya ask me!"

Mario shrugged his bare shoulders as if done with the subject and 
returned to packing the big chunks of meat in the box.

"So what's that got to do with us? And why are you two tearing up the 
place like this?" Carolyn didn't quite understand. Perhaps, she 
thought, she was still groggy from the frantic session with the dogs. 
She couldn't seem to focus her mind clearly on anything yet.

"So he bit his goddam cock off, that's so what!" Mario answered 
impatiently. "And he's being a prick about it. He squealed on us. Said 
he bought the dog from somebody right here in New York ... and then he 
fainted before he could hang it on us. He's still out, far as we know."

"But how did Jason find out about it?" she was still confused.

"Well, there's this broad at the hospital, see. She was one of the 
nurses in the emergency room er somethin' and she's a pretty hoary old 
bitch. Ugly as sin and twice as broad. Got a hole in her the size of 
the Holland Tunnel. Well, she's got the hots all the time and she 
bought one of the boss's dogs a couple years ago. She's real hinkie 
over that dog, ya know, got a real fuckin' hang up on him. She 
overheard the guy spouting off and guessed it was one a' Jason's dogs 
so when the guy fainted and they got through sewing his prick up ... 
what was his prick ... she sneaked out and gave Jason a hurry-up call 
to blow the joint. Soon as the guy comes out of the anesthetic the 
doc's gonna find out about it and call the cops. Seems there's a law or 
somethin' about dog bites. Ya gotta report 'em all to the police or 
somethin'. I don't know. Well, it's gonna cause all kinds of a stink 
and they'll haul in the boss and shoot all his dogs. Seems there's a 
law against that too, f'christ sake!"
Carolyn frowned and shook her head. Her mind was still muddy. She had 
been through a lot and she was still hurting inside, hurting bad, and 
not thinking too clear. She sat down on the stool and tried to think 
things out. What about her? If Jason took the dogs and left, what would 
she do? Would they leave her behind? Alone? Free?
WOULD SHE BE FREE TO GO?

The thought was like lightning in her cloudy mind. Radiant and 
brilliant ... and suddenly her thoughts were crystal clear. Yes, Jason 
was so concerned with the dogs that she could easily slip away! Mario 
might notice her absence but Jason would be frantic over the possible 
death of his beloved dogs - he would never notice. If she could get 
away from Mario's anxious eyes for ten minutes, just ten minutes 
without arousing suspicion, she could be out of this madhouse and gone! 
She looked at Mario. What could she do about him? Just then he noticed 
she was just sitting there and he scowled.

"F'god sake, ya lazy broad, get off your naked ass and help me pack up 
this meat. We gotta get out of here ... or do ya really want to end up 
in the hoosey for ten years?"
She stared at him. That was it! Her naked ass!

"But I'm cold! I don't have any clothes on and that meat's frozen and 
it's cold!" she complained loudly, wrapping her arms across her body 
and faking a shiver.

"Well, f'Jesus Christ on a crutch, can't ya put some clothes on, 
stupid?" He shouted at her. "Ya can't think of nothin' when yer tits 
are hanging out. Goddam women. Maybe Jason's right about women! Go put 
yer clothes on!!!"

Carolyn slid off her stool and managed to growl a reply at him.

"Alright! You don't have to be so nasty about it!"

She turned and hurried out of the door and up the hallway toward her 
room. When she heard the whir of the automatic electric lock click the 
door shut behind her, she leaned against the wall and laughed 
hysterically for a moment. She made it! Mario had practically handed 
her the key to freedom! But she had to hurry. They might miss her in a 
few minutes. In five minutes she had to be out of this house of horrors 
and well on her way. She took a deep breath and ran down the long hall 
to her room.

She wouldn't need much. A suit, something neat and proper that wouldn't 
attract anyone's attention. Her purse and make-up ... and THE MONEY! It 
wasn't much, not as much as she had planned to take when she left, but 
it would be enough. It would be enough to buy a bus ticket, to buy a 
one-way ticket out of hell. She stuffed the money so carefully hidden 
in the back of the television set into her open purse and clicked it 
shut. The blue knit suit was in the closet. She had to hurry, HURRY!


Chapter Twelve


"Tamarack," Carolyn enunciated as clearly as possible for the ticket 
agent. "Tamarack, West Virginia. It's just a little place, just below 
Charlestown about twenty or thirty miles."

The ticket agent ran a stubby finger down the list of stops on his bus 
schedule, flipped over the page and ran down a second line of numbers.

"Oh yeah, here it is. Tamarack, West Virginia. Well, if you take the 
next bus - that's at 7:30 tomorrow morning - you will get in there 
about 4:30 tomorrow afternoon. It's not a regular stop, you understand, 
but the driver will let you off if you ask him to."

"Isn't there a bus tonight?" Carolyn asked hopefully. "I sure don't 
want to sit in the depot all night."

"Sorry, lady," the fat little man answered, "only one bus going that 
way a'tall. It's only a secondary highway, you know, t'ain't no 
highspeed toll road. It's 7:30 tomorrow or nothing. Less you want to 
take the plane into Charlestown and then a bus out of there maybe?"

"No," she frowned, "No, I'll wait for the bus. Thank you anyway."
"Yes ma'am."

Carolyn turned abruptly and bumped into the man standing behind her, 
apologized without looking up, and went into the Ladies Lounge.

A few minutes later, she pushed her way through the squeaking door of 
the women's room and walked slowly into the lobby of the half-deserted 
bus depot once more. Well, it was going to be a long night. She had 
better find a restaurant before she settled in for the night. It had 
been hours since she had eaten - not since early morning before Jason 
and the dogs and the opportunity for escape - and she was feeling a 
little queasy in her stomach. She wondered fleetingly if it was from 
lack of food or the let down after her flight to freedom. Whatever it 
was, she could sure do without it. She walked over to the cigarette 
counter. A tall attractive man in a business suit walked up beside her. 
Together they waited for the clerk to finish the word on his crossword 
puzzle and notice them.

"Oh," he finally realized he was not alone, "Can I help you, mister?"

"The lady was first." He smiled at Carolyn and touched his hat. She 
smiled back.

"I only wanted to ask if there was a restaurant near here that might be 
open this time of night?" She was looking at the counter man but her 
mind was on the handsome stranger. How pleasant to meet a man without a 
dog by his side, she thought bitterly, a man who isn't interested in 
your sex.

"I was going to ask the same thing," the handsome man laughed. He 
turned to the clerk and smiled. "Maybe you should be selling sandwiches 
instead of cigarettes."

"Matter o'fact I do," came his monotoned reply and he reached beneath 
the counter and came up with a pair of mangled sandwiches. "Lessee, I 
got one boloney with mustard and one salami 'n cheese. I make 'em up 
myself at home."

The tall man looked at the sandwiches then at Carolyn and smiled as if 
they shared a big secret. He put his hand on her elbow and turned her 
away from the counter.

"I do thank you," he chuckled, "but what we really had in mind was 
something more along the order of a nice medium rare steak. Isn't that 
right?"

Carolyn was caught up in his ready smile and nodded in agreement.
"Is there some place ...???"

"Well now," the clerk sat back down on his stool and picked up the 
crossword puzzle, "There's always the Pickwick Hotel down the street if 
ya don't mind paying fancy hotel prices??"

"Thank you." He turned to Carolyn and guided her toward the door, his 
firm hand still on her arm. "You will let me take you to dinner, won't 
you? Somehow I can't envision a lovely girl like you eating salami and 
cheese."

"Well, I really don't know ... I'm just waiting for my bus change," 
Carolyn was reluctant. After all, he was an absolute stranger.

"... and we haven't been properly introduced?" He smiled.
"Something like that," she smiled back.

"It's really quite proper, you know," he said frowning with exaggerated 
concern. "We've run into each other before."
"We have?"

"Of course! Don't you remember ... you stepped on my toe at the ticket 
counter, Miss Tamarack West Virginia."

"Oh, that was you. I'm sorry. I just didn't notice who it was." Carolyn 
laughed an apology. "I really am sorry, you know."

"If you're really sorry, then you must let me take you to dinner to 
prove it."

"I'm afraid I don't look much like going out to dinner anywhere," she 
apologized. "You see, I left ... where I was ... in rather a hurry and 
I didn't take time to pack a bag or anything. This is all I have and, 
well, I don't look very presentable."
"You look charming!" He smiled down at her.

Yes, he had noticed that she had no luggage. That was why he had 
followed her to the counter, why he had invited her to dinner. This was 
a central transfer point for all major bus lines out of New York City. 
There were many pretty girls who arrived on the New York bus without 
luggage, down on their luck and usually pretty hungry. Pretty girls who 
left their small home towns with stars in their eyes and their brags of 
success still ringing in their ears ... Pretty girls who came home 
eventually when all else failed, tired, hungry and broke. But still 
pretty ...

It was the desperate pretty girls who were easy prey for Paul J. Price. 
"Just long enough to get enough money to go home in style." That's how 
he always put it to them. "At a hundred dollars a night, honey, you can 
go home like a Queen!"

Carolyn Vance didn't care about going home a queen. She didn't even 
care about going home. Tamarack, West Virginia, wasn't her home. It was 
only a small town with a pretty name on a map. She had done a childish 
thing - closed her eyes and pointed blindly at a spot on a map. And the 
spot had been Tamarack. She had only wanted to go somewhere, anywhere, 
where no one knew her. She wanted to start over fresh and clean and 
smelling of Chantilly instead of dog.

But most of all, Carolyn wanted to learn to make love to a man ... to 
many men, perhaps ... not to dogs.

Mr. Paul J Price, for all his continental manner and experience, was 
surprised when the pretty girl he had met but moments before answered 
his proposition to become a high-priced prostitute with a simple chaste 
"all right."

But then Mr. Price didn't know about dogs ...

Or why it was so vitally important for her to know about men ...

* * *

"You're very generous," Carolyn smiled at the balding conventioneer, 
and tucked the folded bills into her bra.

"Think nothing of it, honey, when Henry Pippen's in town, the sky's the 
limit! How about a little nightcap, baby?" His pudgy fingers poked at 
her ribs and Carolyn winced. "We been having us a time for over an 
hour. I'll just bet you could use a little 100 proof courage. Bet you 
don't run into many men my age who can keep a pretty young girl like 
you busy for an hour, huh? Huh?"

Carolyn smiled and lowered her eyes naively. No, she thought and fought 
to keep from yawning openly, not many, not more than fifteen or twenty 
a week ... and most of them make love just as poorly as you. She opened 
the door and leaned against the sill.

"Not tonight, Mr. Pippen." She declined as gracefully as possible. "I'm 
awfully tired. Perhaps next time you're in town, hmmmm?"

"Sure thing, little girl." He reached into his inside coat pocket and 
handed her a business card. "You ever get down my way now, you give me 
a call, ya hear?"

Carolyn nodded and smiled ... and closed the door on him. She leaned 
her back against the door and sighed, slowly tearing the business card 
into small even pieces. They fell to the floor in a flutter of white 
cardboard snow.

Another dismal failure. Her guts felt like they were spread out in a 
frying pan. There was the same old burning sensation in her loins, it 
never seemed to go away any more. She leaned her head back against the 
door and closed her eyes. How many had it been? Fifty, seventy-five? A 
hundred? At least. A hundred male bodies had paid their money and poked 
at her with a hundred eager cocks. A penis paradise for an insatiable 
female! Only it wasn't paradise. It was hell! 'Cause it never worked 
for her. A hundred strangers pumped her full of semen and were 
satisfied ... and still she ached. She had nearly three thousand 
dollars in the bank now. It represented three months on her back and it 
was enough to put her back on her feet again. She would tell him right 
now.

Carolyn walked to the rumpled bed and sat down by the telephone. 
Slowly, carefully, she dialed the private number of Paul Price. It 
rang, then rang a second time.

"Hello, Price here," came the deep masculine tone.
"It's me, Paul ... Carolyn."

"Through already, doll? Good!" his voice said he was pleased. "I've got 
another bunch from the Convention that should be good for a real 
bundle, kid. I'll send 'em up."

"No," Carolyn said firmly. "No, don't send them up. I'm through, Paul. 
I'm going home."

"What'dya mean, kid?" He growled over the phone. "You can't stand me up 
with a goddam Convention in town."

"I'm not standing you up, Paul." She was trying to be patient, but 
patience weighed a lot on your shoulders when you were dead tired. "I 
told you when I started this thing that it was only for a little while. 
I had to prove something to myself. Or maybe it was un-prove something. 
I'm not quite sure. But I know when I've had enough. I'm going home."

"To Tamany or wherever it was?" he said with disgust. "You won't be 
satisfied in a hick town, Carolyn, you won't even be able to have a 
good screw without the neighbors talking about it! How you gonna 
satisfy that hot mouse of yours in a hick town like Tamany?"

"Tamarack," Carolyn said, "And I don't expect to satisfy it, if its any 
business of yours. I haven't been satisfied in months! Not once in 
months! I'm sick and tired of coming up with somebody else's kicks, 
Paul. I'm getting out. I'll leave your money in an envelope with the 
clerk downstairs ... and I'm catching the next bus out. Good bye, 
Paul."

She laid the phone back in the cradle quickly before she could hear his 
crackling objections. It was over and done with. She would call the bus 
depot and find out when the next bus went to Tamarack. She ran her 
fingers across her aching stomach, scratched gently in the tangled mass 
of curls and massaged the hungry button in her wet crotch. She wondered 
fleetingly how the dogs were. Had they gotten safely away? Was someone 
taking care of them, exercising them, enjoying them? Eyes closed, she 
worried the needy flesh of her loins and remembered how it had felt to 
have one of the big Danes between her legs ... his thick rough tongue 
rubbing life into her, endlessly, tirelessly, until she couldn't stand 
it any longer and grabbed his harness and pulled him hard into her 
kneading hole where he would hump her into orgasm after orgasm ... and 
leave her weak and satisfied. Satisfied. Oh god, how she wished she 
could be satisfied that way again! How she would sleep!

The brassy ring of the telephone shattered her memories.

She reached over for the phone listlessly, sighed and answered its 
impatient jangle. "Hello?"

"Don't hang up, kid. I just want to talk to you a minute."
"What is it, Paul?" she sighed into the phone.

"Answer me honestly now. I've done alright by you, haven't I, kid? I 
did what I said I'd do for you I sent you lots of guys, clean guys, 
guys with money to pay the tab. Right?"
"Yes."

"Then how about doing me fair? How about turning just one more trick 
tonight, kid? Just one more before you leave. I'm in a real bind. I 
promised these guys a real looker ... and you know how the word gets 
around. If I don't come up with something special, the word will get 
out that I don't have a good stable and it'll kill me for the rest of 
the conventions this year. Maybe even next year. How about it, kid? 
Come on, huh? Please?"

Carolyn took the phone down from her ear, stared into the mouthpiece as 
if she could see Paul J. Price with his feigned hurt look, and shook 
her head. She returned the receiver to her ear in time to hear the last 
of his impassioned plea.
"... won't ask you again, I promise!"

She sighed. What was one more, really? It didn't matter.

"Alright, Paul. One more. One more and I'll hold you to your word."

"Thanks, kid," she could hear the relief in his voice. "I'll tell 'em 
to come on over. Five minutes okay? Fifteen?"

"Make it fifteen, I need a shower," and then she remembered his exact 
words 'tell them to come over' ... "aaaa ... wait a minute ... did you 
say 'them'?"

"Yeah ... aaa ... that's what I said. You know how Conventioneers are? 
Ha, ha, anything for a laugh?"

"What's with the 'them' business?" she pinned him down.

"Well, you know how it is. I got a call for a little group action. 
Three guys is all it is, just three. Probably reading a dirty book 
between meetings and it gave 'em ideas. They want to gang-bang a pretty 
girl. You know, watch each other do it to her. Nothing to it, kid. Just 
lay there and collect three times the fee."

Carolyn listened to his playdown of the facts. She smiled to herself. 
Paul was scared she wasn't going to go along with the gang bit. Let him 
worry, damn him, would do him good.

"Oh, I don't know about that ..." she purposely let her voice trail 
off. Let him sweat.

Three at a time. It might be fun. It had been fun with the dogs! Hot, 
hotter and begging! She ran her finger across the little button box 
again and felt its answering twinge. Maybe that's why she hadn't made 
it with all those men in the past three months. Because they didn't 
last as long as the dogs. Maybe that was the trouble. Three men working 
her one after the other, or even all at once, might turn the trick. She 
had always had at least three, maybe four dogs in each training session 
and by the last one she was hotter than french fried nuts. She smiled 
wishfully. Never say die. She'd give it one more chance.

"Come on, baby?" Paul was still pleading on the phone. "They're real 
nice Joes, good looking too. Why, you'll have a real blast. How about 
it, kid?"

"Welllll, alright, Paul ... but just for you." She purred at him, then 
made a face into the phone. "And just this one last time. You 
understand that part of it."
"Sure, kid, sure." He agreed readily. "Any thing you say. I'll send 'em 
over in about fifteen minutes, okay?"

"Okay." She agreed. "... and Paul ... goodbye!"

"So long, kid. Have fun in your hick town. Screw all those farmer boys 
silly."

Carolyn replaced the telephone on the cradle. He just didn't 
understand. No one understood. And what was worse, she couldn't explain 
it. Not even to herself. How do you explain to a civilized socialized 
square-cornered world that you can only seem to cum under a dog? You 
don't! Your guts ache and you grit your teeth and pretend it doesn't 
matter ... while the rest of the world screw themselves sideways with 
their fellow man.

Carolyn got up slowly and straightened up the bed, smoothing the sheets 
and plumping up the pillows. She took the folded bills from her bra and 
tucked them under the pile of lacy brassieres in the second drawer, 
then hurried into the little bathroom and turned on the shower. After 
the last rollicking romeo who graced her bed, she really needed a hot 
shower. Henry Pippen could sweat like a pig. She tucked her long hair 
into the shower cap and stepped in. Hmmmmmm, it felt good.


Chapter Thirteen


Ten minutes later, a pretty young girl was stretched out on the bed on 
her stomach casually flipping the pages of Glamour magazine. She was 
shaved, showered and foo-foo'd ... and bare ass naked. It always got 
things off to a fast start when a customer walked into a room smelling 
of faintly sexy perfume and found a nude woman already on the bed. 
Psychological, perhaps, but it was like 'instant hard-on' and it always 
worked. Especially if her clothes were hung up out of sight and the 
room was free of clutter and coverings. Just a big wall-to-wall bed ... 
and a bare body in the middle of it. Good business. A guy was hard put 
to get his pants off before the size of his dong got stuck in the 
zipper. It was a subtle production line technique. It netted her nearly 
twice the profit in a night as her fellow workers who opened the door 
chastely wrapped in a robe. After all, she was in it for profit, not 
pleasure. She smiled to herself and chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. 
Tonight, perhaps, there would be a little pleasure too. She sure hoped 
so. It had been so long. She turned a page, then another and another, 
and then she saw it. The magazine advertisement ... 'some people do 
everything in a big way' it said ... a lovely blonde girl stood before 
the big new model Cadillac, one hand on the car door, the other resting 
on the shoulder saddle of a huge harlequin Dane ... 'big dog, big car, 
big savings' it said in great glaring print 'why not have the very 
best?' Carolyn looked at the ad with a look of gentle longing. It was a 
magnificent animal, a truly fine male.

When the soft knock sounded at her hotel room door, the voice from 
within brought raised eyebrows and learing smiles to the faces of the 
three men who stood there.

"Come in ..." a honeyed voice purred from within, "Come innnn ... the 
door's open."

There was a fumbling at the knob and three tall rather embarrassed 
looking faces peered down at her naked body on the bed. Languidly, 
Carolyn rolled over on her back and looked straight up into three pair 
of surprised wide eyes, one knee bent and waving gently over her body. 
She waited till they closed the door.

"Hellloooo," she whispered hoarsely up at them.

"Aaa ... aaa ... hello." One of the men stammered "Aaa ... I'm Bill ... 
and that's Harry ... and that's, that's??? What's his name?" he 
whispered to Harry.

"Hello whats-his-name!" Carolyn looked up at him with deliberately wide 
innocent eyes. It was hard not to smile when the man gulped noisily and 
nodded his head.
"Aaa ... what can we call you?" the first man said.

Carolyn turned her head to stare up into his red face.

"You can call me ... in time for seconds ... all around!" She purred in 
the much practiced professional voice which had put $3,000 in the bank 
for her in the past months. She stretched luxuriously, spreading her 
naked body into a wide ivory-bodies X upon the deep red bedspread. 
"Jesus!" someone said reverently.

Carolyn crooked her finger suggestively at the nearest man, the tall 
older man they referred to as Harry, and patted the bed beside her.

"Aren't you sort of uncomfortable with all those clothes on ... 
Harry???" she purred again. "I'll just bet you all look better without 
them."

She let her eyes roam between the three men, starting on their 
surprised faces and sliding suggestively down over their padded 
shoulders to the virtuously zipped flies of their dark blue suits, 
pausing a moment to stare at the growing bulges, to purse her full lips 
and lick them with her tongue. Slowly. The men seemed frozen to the 
floor. Good grief, she thought, real country bumpkins. She'd take care 
of that. She stretched once more, then let one hand slide down over her 
flat stomach and play with the dark curls of her crotch.

"I wish you'd all hurrrry ..." she sighed and let her middle finger 
slide in and out between the hairy lips.

Clothes began to fly. She heard the sound of one, no two, buttons 
ripped from the cloth and rattle across the floor. She watched the 
spider-veined arms appear out of shirt sleeves, flabby muscles shake in 
their hurry, skinny legs and knobby knees, fat soft stomachs and hairy 
flopping balls. Carolyn watched without expression. They were a far cry 
from the lean hard-muscled animals with their sleek well-groomed coats 
and their bright honest eyes. Suddenly she was surrounded by white 
sunless buttocks and grasping hands, and she closed her eyes and opened 
her mouth to the slack lips and probing cigar-tasting tongues.

"Beautiful tits," she heard a voice say and felt a squeezing hand and a 
hot wet mouth.

"Hey, d'ja see this? She shaves!" and a callused working man's hand 
rubbed hard across the inner lips of her tender flesh. "She's got hair 
out where it shows ... and she shaves between her legs! Isn't that a 
crazy idea?"

"You know what that means, don't ya?" Another male voice chuckled in 
response. "That means she's one of the ones that likes it all the way. 
You know, french!"
"You mean she likes to ... to ..."

"Yeah, ya dumb bastard. She'll even let ya eat it!"
"Jesus!"

Carolyn felt the hot breath on her legs first. Even with her eyes 
closed, she could follow his faltering progress on his virgin trip into 
the interior. He was on his knees at the end of the bed, she could 
tell, and he had very gently pressed her legs apart and was poking 
experimentally at the parted lips. She deliberately snapped them at 
him, and was instantly rewarded by a gasp as he sucked in his breath. 
She felt the hot breath come closer and closer. Spreading her legs as 
far as her position would allow, she waited for the wonderful feel of a 
warm tongue between her legs. There was a light brush of his lips and 
he pulled away. What in the hell, she thought, oh please don't let him 
quit already. She moaned softly and wriggled her hips invitingly. There 
was no other way to ask for it, one of the men had buried his thick 
tongue in her mouth and the other was licking all over her breasts. Her 
arms were pinned beneath them. She couldn't say anything or reach out 
and pull his face between her legs. She wriggled the hairy little hole 
again.

There was a harsh groan from the vicinity of her parted legs and the 
feel of his five o'clock shadow rubbing hard against the tender flesh. 
His short stiff tongue made quick exploring stabs into her hole. Ohhhh 
it did feel good. Not so good as the long hot thick tongues of the 
Danes who used to lick her from anus to button. But it felt good.

She began to suck on the probing tongue in her mouth. It tasted of 
stale tobacco and bourbon but it was stiff and it was eager and 
responded instantly to her sucking invitation. It buried itself deeper 
into her welcoming mouth, making crude wet sounds as he gasped 
occasionally for air, groaning when she sucked hard and moved her 
puckered mouth up and down over it like a working penis in her feathery 
hole.

The man at her breasts had stopped kissing them and was watching his 
friend's extended tongue screwing in and out of the prostitute's 
sucking mouth. God, it made him hot! He looked down at the man between 
her open legs and watched him bury his face in her wet crotch and come 
up damp and shiny from her hot cunt. Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! He never knew 
anything like this went on. Leastwise he never took part in it before 
... or watched it right before his eyes. His own hot cock was throbbing 
so he thought it would burst. He wanted to shove it in her paid-for 
pussy but it was full of mouth. His friend's stiff tongue was still 
screwing the other end. God. He was gonna bust, sure as billy hell. He 
looked desperately at her rolling body, and the big breasts which 
rolled and pitched with their own full weight. Suddenly he raised up to 
his knees and straddled her body, burying his aching rod between the 
fat breasts, holding them tight together with his hands and began to 
thrust into them. The head of his fat penis peered out the other side 
of her compressed boobs and pointed straight at her face. In and out it 
went, back and forth between the firm heavy globes. It wasn't wet like 
a woman's cunt but it was exciting. Exciting. He watched the man's 
tongue still pummeling her mouth, watched her cheeks suck in and pull 
at it. He watched the man's swinging prick as it rocked between his 
knees. He turned his head as far as he could and saw that the pussy 
eater had raised to his knees and was skinning back his hard cock ready 
to throw it to her.

She knew it had begun. After a hundred cocks in heat, she knew all the 
symptoms. She could feel the jarring rhythm of the man squatting over 
her breasts and the leaking warning that spewed forth in small droplets 
on her white skin. It was too late for him to stop now, he would spill 
out his sperm and waste it ... and she had not begun to cum.

Now the man at her thighs began the regular pumping which meant the 
beginning of the end. So soon? She cried silently. Not so soon! She 
began a frantic thrusting of her own heated pelvis. Maybe she could 
make it before it was too late ... but the desperate heaving of her 
body against his was like a fuse to his ramming penis and he came in 
short, jabbing, jerking movements, filling her with the evidence of his 
own satisfaction but leaving her brimful of need. No, she thought. No! 
No! No!
She tried to pull her mouth away from the hot tongue of the excited man 
who kneeled beside her. He thought she was trying to get away from him 
because she was nearing the point of orgasm ... and he had done this to 
a professional prostitute with only his tongue. How exciting! Too 
exciting, he felt the beginning rush of hot semen in his dangling 
balls, racing up the heavy vein beneath his short fat penis and there 
it was, jerking its wet wonders out on to the girl's arm pinned between 
his legs and on the red bedspread. Christ, he thought, what a waste of 
money. He'd have to pay the broad fifty bucks each for the three of 
them and all he got was a bedspread fuck while she frenched his tongue. 
Damn bitch probably did it on purpose. She probably got him hot so he'd 
do it that way and she wouldn't have to clean up afterwards. Christ. 
Fifty bucks apiece. He looked at his friend and saw his sperm running 
in slow trails across the woman's chest. He'd got screwed out of any 
cunt too. The other guy, whats-his-name from Charing, Oklahoma, was 
squatting over her hairy twat, and looking sorta embarrassed and silly 
about it. Well, maybe he got a little tail but that was probably only 
cause she was so busy fuckin' the two of them out of their just 
desserts. Christ, he repeated out loud, Christ.

He eased back off the girl's arm, careful not to smear up his own legs 
with the cum that wet the spread. He looked down at her in disgust. She 
lay still, breathing hard, her face turned to the wall. She looked 
almost like she might be ready to cry or something. What'd she have to 
bawl about? He was the one who got screwed out of a hundred and fifty 
bucks cold cash. He could'a jacked off on the John and still had the 
hundred and fifty. Christ. He pulled his pants on and zipped up his fly 
angrily.

"Come on, you guys. Stick it back in your pants and let's get the hell 
out of this clip joint." He grumbled and watched the two men raise 
organs on the edge of the spread. He looked at his watch and shook his 
head. "Not quite twenty minutes. Can you imagine that? Not even twenty 
minutes and this fuckin' broad makes a hundred and fifty bucks for just 
laying there and making us do all the work. That's Atlantic City for 
ya. Next year I'm gonna insist they hold it in Hoboken like we said. 
Christ."

He pulled three fifty dollar bills from his money clip and slammed them 
on the bare dresser top.

"There ya are, chippy. A hundred and fifty smackeroos and you got three 
good screws to boot. What a racket!" he pulled open the door. "Come on, 
let's get the hell out of here. Why waste any more time on her?"

Carolyn didn't move. She didn't open her eyes or move away from the 
thick white puddles of semen that ran down her sides and made wet spots 
on the dark red spread. It had happened again. Nothing. Nothing. Three 
normal men had paid to have sex with her and she should have been 
excited and she should have cum and she should have ... should have ... 
she should have gone home to Tamarack on the early bus like she planned 
to do. It wasn't any use. It was her. There was something wrong with 
her.

She raised up and sat on the edge of the bed and her eyes fell upon the 
open magazine lying on the floor a few feet beyond where one of the men 
had thrown it. It was still open to the advertisement for the big new 
Cadillac Convertible ... and the picture of the big harlequin Dane. 
Carolyn stared at the picture for several minutes. A single tear welled 
in her eye, slipped over the brim and made a wet train down over her 
tender tit with its teeth marks and blood burns.

* * *

"Where'd you say you lived, Miss?" the man behind the long counter 
asked curiously. "The old Martindale place?"

"Yes, I believe that was the name the real estate man said would be on 
the escrow papers, Martindale or something like that." She smiled up at 
him.

"Hmmmm," he shook his head dubiously. "Kind of a lonely old place for a 
pretty young lady like you, seems to me."

Carolyn smiled tolerantly. Tamarack was a friendly town, and a curious 
one as well, but then most small towns were. It was all part of being 
friendly.

"Will that be cash or check, Miss?" he asked when no further 
information was forthcoming.
"Cash." Carolyn answered quietly, counting out the bills. "Four, five, 
six hundred dollars and ... what did you say was the tax? Three 
dollars? Six hundred and three dollars. There you are. You can just 
mail the pedigrees to me when they're ready."

She picked up the two heavy choke chain collars and walked over to the 
viewing runs.

"Oh, we'll have them delivered to you, Miss. Just - as soon as the 
Missus gets back from Charlestown with the big station wagon." The 
kennel man said anxiously. "They're pretty big animals, even if they 
are pups. Must weigh all of eighty, maybe even a hundred pounds each! 
You just don't know how big them Great Danes get, little lady. You 
couldn't handle them all by yourself."
Carolyn smiled.

"I forgot to tell you, Mr. Norris," she smiled up at him. "I'm a 
professional dog trainer. I have a great deal of ... of experience ... 
with Great Danes."

"You?" the kennel man said incredulously, "A pretty little thing like 
you train Great Danes???"
Carolyn nodded.

"But ... but you're so small and delicate like," he stammered, finding 
it hard to believe, "Aren't you afraid of them?"

"Mr. Norris," Carolyn smiled a little sadly, "I'd be afraid to try and 
get along without them."

She walked back to the runs, slipped the gate hasp and swung it wide 
open. As the first playful pup jostled his way through the opening, 
Carolyn slid the heavy choke chain about his neck and pulled him down 
firmly on his haunches. He looked up at her with surprise. She walked 
up close before him, pressed his massive head against her legs and 
scratched him behind the ears.

"Good boy. Sit! Sit!" She smiled down at the inquisitive big eyes and 
pressed his head hard against her legs again. He sniffed, and let his 
head remain against her tight capri pants. "Good boy. I think I'll call 
you Monarch."

Holding Monarch's chain securely in one hand, she moved to the other 
run and released the gate catch. A moment later, another huge beast 
rested against her leg and lowered his head between her legs to have 
his ears scratched.

"Samson," she said slowly. "You are built like a Samson, strong and 
handsome and virile. I shall call you Samson."

She scratched his ears for a moment longer, then Monarch's, then pulled 
them both up sharply by the chains and led them to the front door. She 
paused to wave goodbye to Mr. Norris and both dogs settled on their 
haunches at her sides, pressing their massive heads against her capri-
clad legs.

"I never seen nothing like it!" Mr. Nortis drawled softly. "Why, them 
two big brutes is already a'following you about like they was a couple 
of courting swains. Jest never seen nothing like it! Isn't that real 
nice, now, that they're so devoted to a pretty little thing like you. 
And so soon too."
"Yes ... isn't it?"

Carolyn smiled, a little sadly, and led her charges through the door 
and out into the crisp fresh sunlight of a Tamarack spring morning.

Yes, she thought as she walked down the long shady lane, yes, isn't it 
nice that they're so devoted? And so soon, too.


The End