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From: grobert@soho.ios.com (TheEditor)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Breeders (1/9) "The Breeders"
Date: Fri, 19 Apr 1996 08:01:47 -0700
Organization: Internet Online Services
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The Breeders
Chapter 1
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 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."
Chapter 3
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