Masked woman Ariel wants to be banged pronto, and she has her dog Patrice to fall back on. It’s not a bad idea, because she’s deep into bestiality. See more of Ariel and Patrice’s world in Arieldoglover.com.
# The Breeders 1 & 2
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, ttractive to look at, long legs, well defined breasts which
showed their nipple points erect and proud beneath the blue cotton of her dress. She would do. He smiled.
“You must be tired. Here, let me take that.” He reached for her suitcase. “Come, I’ll show you to your room and
then we’ll have a quick cup of tea … something stronger if you prefer … and then you may retire. We want you
to be fresh and full of energy here at Royal Benson.”
Carolyn smiled gratefully and followed Jason Benson through the door and down the wide hallway to her room. He
unlocked the door at the end of the hall and nodded for her to enter. It was a large airy room spotted with thick
padded chairs and an end table
with a variety of magazines neatly laid out in order. Carolyn walked past the table and looked out the window.
Here were the dogs she had wondered about … some twelve or fifteen runs with chain link fencing between,
each with a door leading inside the main house and a second door opening into the concrete area in the center.
It was like looking down into a tiny gladiator’s arena, with its huge muscled canine contenders pacing back and
forth in their cells. Realizing her employer was standing at her side watching, she felt she should say something
about the many dogs below.
“Is that where the dogs are exercised?” she asked, “In the concrete area below?”
“No, my dogs are … exercised … in another area of the building.” He smiled at her as if he knew a secret no one
else knew. Yet. “But that’s for tomorrow. I shall tell you all about Royal Benson Kennels … tomorrow.”
He lifted her suitcase and laid it conveniently on the bed for her. “Have you eaten, my dear?” He asked. “Yes,
thank you.”
“Fine. That’s fine. I shall leave you to your unpacking and perhaps you’d like a refreshing shower.” He looked at
his wristwatch. “It’s a little after 7:00. Suppose I bring you something warm and soothing to drink about 8:00. It
will help you sleep soundly. What would you prefer? Tea, cocoa, or a glass of sherry, perhaps?”
“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Benson. I’d like that, a cup of cocoa if it isn’t too much trouble.”
“No trouble at all, my dear.” He nodded courteously and left her alone, closing the door behind him.
“And this was my Nero,” he laid one last photograph on top of the pile on the little end table. “Royal Benson’s
Black Nero,” my first dog … not my best, but I owe him much for it was his devotion to my deceased wife who
caused me to begin the small breeding business ten years ago which lead to the Benson Kennels and a rather
sizable income.”
Carolyn smiled and tried to concentrate on the photo of the big black Dane. It was so warm in her room. It was
making her sleepy, terribly sleepy. She yawned and was immediately embarrassed.
“Oh, forgive me, Mr. Benson,” she apologized, “I love to look at your dogs, really I do, I can’t understand why I’m
so sleepy all of a sudden.”
“Quite understandable, my dear,” Jason Benson stood up, a secretive smile touching the corners of his mouth.
“You must forgive me for not allowing you to rest on your first night with us. And do sleep in tomorrow morning,
it’s Sunday, you know, and the Kennels will be closed to all.” He gathered up the stack of photographs, wished
her good sleep, and quietly closed the door as he left.
Carolyn leaned back in her chair and yawned. She was so sleepy, so tired. She would rest here just a moment or
two, then crawl into the big inviting bed. So tired. She closed her eyes. So tired it felt like her body was
spinning, spinning. Suddenly her head fell limply back against the chair … the near empty mug of cocoa slipping
from her lax fingers. It made a soft rattle as it rolled under the edge of her chair, leaving a narrow dark
streak of chocolate across the blue carpet.
Chapter 2
From a room across the patio, Jason Benson watched Carolyn succumb to the effects of the tasteless drug
which he had stirred into the hot cocoa. Now, if she turned out to be a good subject for hypnosis as well, the
Royal Benson dogs would have a new mistress. Jason had already waited too long. The dogs were restless. But it
was difficult to find a pretty girl with no family or friends, no one to wonder what happened when she dropped
out of sight. Of course, there had been a few ‹ coarse, plain women that no one wanted, no one would miss ‹
but Jason preferred to mix business with pleasure. Perhaps the dogs didn’t mind a plain mistress but Jason found
the training sessions more stimulating when the bitches were attractive. He studied the still figure of the
unconscious girl in the lighted window across the patio. Yes, she was very attractive. He smiled in anticipation.
This was going to be a pleasant season. He was sure of that.
“I’ll get the girl ready,” Jason said quietly to his assistant. “You bring your camera equipment … and hurry. We
don’t want the effects of the drug to wear off before we have
arranged for insurance.”
Without waiting for a reply, Jason hurried from the room. Mario stayed by the window a moment longer, staring
at the limp figure of the girl. His face was passive. His hands strayed now and again to his crotch to rub the
head of the sleeping beast which lay there.
Mario bumped the door open with his knees. His hands were full of light standards, cameras and two cases of
film. Jason jerked around at the sound of the door banging against the wall and frowned.
“F’god sake, try to be a little more quiet, Mario.” “Hell, boss, she’s out like a light.”
“That may be, my young friend, but let’s not take unnecessary chances, eh?” There were times when Jason
Benson would like to have taken the plaited dog whip which hung in the exercise room and which could raise
bloody welts each time it laid across the skin, to Mario Serge but he needed him. He needed someone to help …
and Mario’s perverted sexuality made him perfect for the job. It took patience sometimes, like today, when
Mario’s anticipation overrode his good sense. He smiled to hide his feelings. “In an
hour or so, we will be finished. And then …”
Jason left the sentence hanging, deliciously dangling before Mario’s growing desire like a carrot before a hungry
ass. Mario’s eyes glittered and the bulge in his tight pants grew larger and more noticeable. He began scurrying
quietly around the room, setting up the light poles around the center island bed. Jason smiled faintly. The young
man had the insatiability of a sailor and the mind of a child. He could be led around by the prick.
Jason shook his head tolerantly, then began his own preparations. From the big cedar chest at the foot of the
bed he took a rich blue velvet spread and carefully arranged it on the bed. He glanced at the motionless girl, at
her flawless pale ivoried skin … yes, the color would be perfect. He walked to the movie camera on its sturdy
tripod and sighted through the viewer. He pursed his lips, looked up over the camera, then through the view
finder once more. “Mario …”
“Uhmmm?” He was having trouble with the height adjustment on one of the lights.
“Move the first two lights on the other side of the bed. I can see them in the viewer.”
“Okay, but you won’t get good lighting on her butt without any floods behind her.” Mario growled.
“You’re probably right,” Jason agreed reluctantly, “but we don’t want the bloody light pole showing in the pictures
either.”
“How about moving that screen behind the bed,” Mario suggested, “then I could put the light poles behind it and
we’d still get the effect?”
“Good, good.” Jason sighted through the camera, nodding his head as Mario made the suggested changes. “There
… there, that’s it. That’s fine!”
He raised up from the camera and grinned at his assistant. “And now the girl …” he said.
Carolyn had not moved since the drug had taken effect. She lay limply relaxed in the big overstuffed easy chair
facing the courtyard window. Jason walked quietly over to her and sat on the ottoman at her feet. He began
talking to her softly … very softly.
“You are very tired. Very, very tired. You are asleep, Carolyn Vance, sound asleep. You haven’t been able to
sleep for days and now you are sound asleep.” His voice droned on, toneless and void of all inflection. “As you’re
becoming deeper and deeper asleep, your breathing will become deeper too. Deep, deep from the bottom of your
lungs. Breathe deep, Carolyn, deep, deep.”
The sound of her breath was audible in the room now, her chest expanding and contracting with each breath.
Jason could hear the air rushing between her lips as she inhaled. He looked up at Mario and winked. Mario nodded
solemnly.
“You must sleep deeply, Carolyn, and then you will feel wonderful. You will feel just wonderful. Deep, Carolyn, a
deep, deep sleep.” Jason picked up one limp hand and began stroking it lightly with his fingers. “Imagine you are
in a cave, a deep, dark
quiet cave, Carolyn. There are steps in this cave, nice, wide, safe, steps carved out of stone and they go down.
Down, down, down into the cool dark cave. It’s quiet down there, Carolyn, peaceful and quiet. If you could only
walk down those steps and
into the quiet depths of the cave, Carolyn, everything would be wonderful again.”
Jason looked at the wide-eyed Mario and jerked his head toward the box on the table. Mario nodded. Jason
continued to stroke her hand softly, regularly.
“We are going down those steps together, Carolyn, into the quiet peaceful darkness. You can hear our footsteps
as we go deep, deep down into the darkness.” He nodded to Mario, who stood waiting with a flat piece of marble
in one hand and a small rubber headed mallet in the other. At his nod, Mario began tapping on the marble, holding
it lightly by one end so not to dull the resonant sound of the mallet. “Down, down, down into the cool darkness,
Carolyn, deep, deep, deep into the cave of your mind. Hear the footsteps as we walk down, Carolyn, deep,
deep, deep.”
The hand he stroked suddenly became even more limp, it was like a boneless mass of flesh that wanted to melt
and slip from his grasp. Jason smiled. He studied the heavy pulse at the base of her throat. It was pulsing with
heavy, even throbs. He lifted
Carolyn’s hand and dropped it on to her lap. There was no reaction. He looked at her from beneath his heavy
half-closed lids and smiled. This one was a fine subject, she would perform well for their cameras … and once
her performance was recorded on film, he would give her to his dogs, his fine canine progeny, his boys.
“Shall I get the King, boss?” Mario asked impatiently. “Or ya wanta start with me?”
Jason cocked his head and looked appraisingly at the pretty face of the girl slumped in the chair. He liked to use
the King first but sometimes the shock of it brought a subject out from under before they really had enough
insurance to prevent trouble. If there was any chance of that, he used Mario first. This time, however … He held
her chin up in his fingers, then let it drop abruptly. This time there would be no trouble. She was an exceptionally
fine hypnotic study. All he had to do was insure that he used the proper phrasings. A person under hypnosis
would not do anything violently against their principles. If you had unpleasantries to deal with, you never said
“shoot your husband”
… you said “you are frightened of snakes, there is a snake who will bite you, kill him” and killing snakes was not
against their moral fiber. Bang, you’re dead. Jason smiled. He was an experienced hand at hypnosis. Consciously
this shy girl would rebel at what he had planned for her, “tactfully worded” she would purr like a pussycat in
heat.
“Bring the King,” he said softly to Mario. “There’ll be plenty left over for you, my boy, there’s plenty for both of
you.”
Jason crossed his legs, leaned his chin on his hand and looked at the girl … it was a dirty business … but such a
stimulating one. Already he was feeling the first birth pains of a gigantic erection tingling in his loins. He lingered
amid the feeling of a painful need for a moment, then put it out of his mind as the sound of heavy footpads
entered the door of Carolyn’s room. He turned to face the King.
He was a magnificent beast, a full three and a half feet at the shoulders, with the chest of a bull and the proud
head of a champion. He pulled at the choke chain in Mario’s hand, leading the slim man at will, pulling him over to
where his master sat on the ottoman. Jason clouted him playfully across the muscled rump and pulled at his
jowls.
“Hello there, King,” Jason said with pride in his voice, “How ya doing, boy?’
The dog rubbed against his leg and licked at his hand. Jason wooled him once more, then rose and took the
choke chain lead from Mario. “Here, boy,” he said with the tone of command and walked him to the side of the
bed nearest the camera tripod. “Now, sit.
SIT. STAY.”
The King squatted obediently on his great fawn haunches and watched expectantly. Jason removed the chain
from his thick neck and tossed it to one side. The King watched it slide on the floor. “STAY,” he commanded
once more. “STAY.”
“You want me to operate the camera this time, boss?” Mario asked.
“Hmmm, yes, I think so, Mario.” Jason studied first the girl, then the bed. “Yes, you do that. I’ll tell you when to
start the mechanism and when to cut. Is everything ready?”
“Yeah, all ready … ‘cept for the girl. She’s not undressed yet.” Mario looked hopefully toward his employer. “You
want me to undress her???”
“Not this time,” Jason smiled thoughtfully, “she’s too good a subject to overlook … let’s play this one by ear,
shall we?”
Mario grinned obscenely. This was gonna be one helluva night, he could tell. The boss was rarely this wound up
over any of the new bitches. And when he was, sooner or later the girl would wish she’d sewed her pussy shut
and pee’d out her ear. He watched Jason cross over to the girl and begin stroking her forehead gently.
“Deep … deep … deep. Carolyn, do you hear me, Carolyn?” The girl stirred and mumbled something.
“You can speak, Carolyn, but you will not wake up: Do you hear me, Carolyn?”
Her throat worked once, twice, then a small distant voice answered. “I hear you.”
“Good, very good.” Jason’s voice remained absolutely toneless and unemotional. “Something nice is going to
happen to you, Carolyn, something very nice.”
Jason watched the girl’s face carefully. There was no expression, no change of manner or mean. Her breathing
was regular and deep. The pulse point in her throat strong.
“Carolyn, you have finally found the man you love, a thoughtful considerate attractive man who has asked you
to marry him. You are deep … deep … deeply in love with this man. You are so happy that you cannot help but
smile.” Jason watched closely. The girl’s face broke open with a happy smile, her straight even teeth lying like
carved ivory upon the soft full red lips. Yes, she would look convincing on film. “And now, Carolyn,
it is your wedding night. Your new husband sits beside the bed. You are very happy. Deep … deep … deeply
happy. He has asked you to undress for him. He wants to see your beautiful body unclothed for him alone. Will
you do this for him, Carolyn?”
The girl in the chair nodded slowly, the happy smile still fresh upon her face as if she couldn’t stop smiling if she
wanted to because she was so happy. “Then get up, Carolyn. Walk to the bed and start undressing.” Jason
nodded approvingly to Mario as the girl slowly rose from her chair and walked to the end of the bed. “Now,
Mario,” Jason said softly in soto voice, “start the film now.” “Your new husband thinks you are very beautiful,
Carolyn. Why don’t you look at him and smile to let him know you love him too?”
The girl paused and looked toward the side of the bed with a shy smile.
“No, Carolyn, your husband is on the other side of the bed. That’s right, a little lower. He’s sitting down waiting
for you to finish. Smile at him, Carolyn. You love him, smile as if you love him.”
Carolyn turned slowly and stared toward the camera, fixing her eyes in the direction of the big Great Dane. Her
face was filled with happiness, eyes bright, her mouth parted and damp.
“Now undress, Carolyn, keep your eyes on your new husband and undress.” Jason coached tonelessly, careful
not to break the spell of the moment.
She began unbuttoning the front of her blue shirtwaist dress, looking toward the Dane with half-closed eyes, a
look of anticipation masked her lovely face. The dress dropped to the floor and she let it lay there. She reached
slowly behind her back and undid the clasp of her bra, letting her hands slide forward to cup the heavy breasts
and hold them up for his approval. “Mario,” Jason spoke quietly, “pan in on the King. He’s watching her …
he knows what’s coming … and he’s getting a real hard on.”
The small Bell & Howard camera swiveled smoothly on its tripod and aimed toward the waiting dog. The animal’s
eyes were on Carolyn’s every movement, following the motion of her hands, her body. His tongue hung out and
dripped saliva. “Lower, Mario,
smoothly now.”
The camera swung lower, following the muscular lines of the huge dog’s body, then pausing on the long hairy
sheath that housed the great canine penis. The camera whirred on, as Mario zoomed a slow close-up, so close
Jason knew that the sheath and its partially exposed organ would fill the frame of the picture. King panted in
anticipation, each heaving breath causing the pole-hard penis to poke in and out of its covering.
“Hold it there, Mario,” Jason spoke in a whisper, “I’m going to try something.”
Behind the camera viewer, Mario’s eyes were bright. His crotch heavy with anticipation. Staring at a stud dog’s
prick didn’t normally do much for the small Italian man, but now as he focused the camera on it at close range,
knowing as he knew that
it would be buried in the girl’s hot wet pussy in a few minutes, the expectation was almost too much. He tried to
put the thought from his mind. It wasn’t easy.
“Stay, King,” Jason spoke gently to the dog, “Stay. King, do you want to lick the girl, boy? Lick the girl, King?
STAY. Stay.”
The dog was near frantic with the promised goal. His tongue lapped hungrily over his jowls and his penis jutted
out at full staff length and bobbed gently up and down with its own weight.
“Jesus,” Mario said softly from behind the camera.
“Now, Mario, bring the camera slowly back to the girl and keep it on her until she’s on the bed and ready.”
The camera swung on a straight line from the dog’s stiff pointed organ to the now nude body of Carolyn Vance
and paused dutifully on the mouse-brown curls of her split. The camera angle was perfect, Mario grinned to
himself, GOD what a film this one
would be. The girl was gonna dirty her pants when she saw this one.
“Carolyn,” Jason’s voice was toneless, coaching once more. “Carolyn, your new husband can’t wait to make love
to you. Is this the first time you’ve made love to a man?” “No,” the faint answer came.
“Too bad,” Jason muttered softly to his associate, “it would have been damned effective to film the losing of her
cherry with the blood and all on the King’s big cock. Oh well.”
“Jesus wept, I guess!” Mario agreed, his eye still on the girl squared in the viewer. The camera whirred on. “Say,
boss, I’d better change film before we start the main event.”
“A11 right. Do we have enough footage to get her on the bed with the dog sniffing her crotch?”
“Hmmmm, I think so.” guessed Mario, “give it a try.”
“Carolyn, your handsome new husband is so much in love with you. He has asked you to lay down on the bed
and wait for him.” Jason watched critically as she sat on the end of the blue velvet-covered bed and looked
toward the imaginary bridegroom. “That’s
fine, Carolyn, now just lie back on the bed and relax. Deep … deep … deeply relax. You are so comfortable, so
happy, so very happy that you can’t help but smile at your husband when he kneels before you. Look down at
him and be happy.”
The girl on the bed raised her head and looked down the length of her naked body, her eyes fascinated by
something her mind said she saw there.
“Carolyn, you are deep … deep … deeply in love with your husband and he is starting to make love to you. You
are a passionate woman, deep … deep … deeply passionate woman and your body is beginning to fill with desire
for him. You are so anxious to feel his touch. Your body won’t lie still, you can’t make it lie still.”
Jason could hear Mario’s heavy breathing from the side of the bed. He looked at the girl on the blue spread,
writhing and contorting her body, spreading her creamy white legs until the red crevice split open like a sexy
smile. Jason looked longingly at the crack and wished for a quick moment that he could heave his crowbar into
its depths and pry it apart until all the goodies were spread open before his ravenous appetite. But that was for
later, later when they had their insurance packet carefully stored away, when they knew the girl could not,
would not reveal the debasements to which she was forced. There would be time, much time, to ease his
throbbing loins. He looked toward the panting
animal.
“Now, King,” he said softly, “now, boy, lick her clean. Get her, boy.”
Ch. 3 & 4 SEE NEXT STORY
Bonus
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 otivation 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.
Ch. 6 & 7 SEE NEXT STORY
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