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From: Emma Tater <rukidding@nottareal.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} Living in Nature
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Date: Wed, 27 Oct 2010 06:10:06 -0400
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Inspired by Rachel Ross	


Introduction:

As a reader over the years, I've often considered trying my hand, so to 
speak, particularly after having read Rachel Ross. Finally, having a 
free hand available, I gave it a shot. I don't flatter myself that I'm 
nearly so polished and I'm aware that the physical acts depicted, below, 
go beyond what her expectation of would probably be obtainable in 
reality; however, it's my first try and everybody's got to start somewhere.

****************************************************************

LIVING IN NATURE

"What the hell's the deal with the way the grass is dead out there by 
the gate," Harvey demanded as he slammed his lunch bucket on the kitchen 
table and glared at me. "And this place looks like shit, woman! Where's 
my dinner?"

I looked over at him from the wood-burning stove, the same one that was 
probably installed when the house was built more than 150 years ago, and 
smiled.

"I hadn't noticed anything about the grass," I lied, "But I'll have 
these potatoes ready in just a few minutes. There was no wood chopped 
and that took some time."

I saw his jaw tense and his fists clench. I knew he was going to come 
for me but that I could stop most of it. I had a pot of boiling water in 
my right hand and a fork in my left. He quickly stood up and made a 
jerky movement toward me but I gripped the pot handle tighter and 
glanced at it. Instantly he stopped and I could see all the hate of 
countless generations come over his face.

"Fuckin' potatoes, again," he spat.

"It's what we've got so far, Harv," I said. "It's what grows out there. 
If I had money or you'd let me go into town or even if you'd bring home 
something, it wouldn't be this every night."

He worked at a sawmill during the day but I never saw a cent of what he 
made and he never spent it on anything that I'd seen. I was still 
wearing the faded cotton shift I'd brought when we got here, three years 
ago, and that was it. Just the shift. No shoes, nothing under, it's all 
I had left and it was about to disintegrate into threads from simple 
washing and wearing repeatedly.

"None of your goddam business. I told you the plan and I'll tell you 
when we've got enough to get it done. Now, get back to cooking and shut up!"

I stirred the boiling pot and thought about the dead grass out next to 
the right gatepost and wondered if he'd noticed the scratch marks at the 
base of the left one. I remembered the morning, almost a year ago, when 
what was killing the grass and making the scratches started...

He was a stray, another drifter like a lot of solitary wanderers who 
showed up out of nowhere looking for a handout or anything not tied down 
that could be carried off. That's what I figured when I noticed him that 
day. Stray men, stray dogs, the occasional cat that you didn't see until 
you caught a flash of fur out of the corner of your eye as they quit 
observing you and slinked off. The men were almost all skinny, filthy 
hobos with the same story about hard times, mumbling excuses about 
looking for work nobody could find. Usually, they'd take one look at the 
place and know there wasn't either money or food if they did force 
themselves actually to do any labor. Sure, they'd look me up and down 
but could tell I wasn't having any hobo touch me, and they'd wander off 
in the direction of town.

There'd been dogs wander up before, mostly scarred and painfully thin, 
tails between their legs and quick to show teeth if you looked like you 
saw they were there. They'd run off after sniffing for scraps and 
finding none. This one was different.

It was probably was wash day and I was standing over the wooden tub, 
naked as the day I was born, carefully teasing the dirt and sweat out of 
that one shift, hoping I could make it last another week, knowing it 
better make it another year. It was his slight panting I finally heard 
behind me and off to my left that got my attention and I straightened up 
and wiped the hair out of my eyes.

The first thing that struck me was his eyes, yellow surrounding a deep 
brown and laughing like he was amused to see a woman minding her own 
business doing washing. He wasn't more than ten feet away and I wondered 
how he got that close without my hearing him. He cocked his head and 
smiled bigger with those eyes. It seemed to me that he was looking me up 
and down and I remembered I was naked and felt myself blushing.

"Now, what in the hell do you want?" I said, angrily, feeling like I 
should cover myself or part of myself, and he actually grinned at me. 
"Shoo!" I hissed. "Scat."

He shifted on his haunches and I noticed he wasn't thin like all the 
others. No collar but he looked filled out, well fed and as he raised up 
a little I couldn't help but notice he was also quite...healthy, underneath.

I kicked myself mentally that my attention was drawn to such a thing. 
Yeah, I'd stopped sleeping with Harvey more than six months ago since 
there was no point and he didn't seem to have a lot of interest but 
you're not supposed to notice things like that on animals if you're decent.

I'll be damned if it didn't seem like he knew where I was looking and 
his grin turned into a smile and it irked me.

"Shoo, I said" and I took a step toward him but he didn't move. I 
stopped and we stared at each other for a second and then he looked over 
my shoulder. He got up and walked off to my right, making a circle 
around me toward the washtub. From the side, as he slowly passed me, I 
could see that he was more than healthy down there; he was downright 
huge. I shook my head, trying to get my senses back as he continued on 
to the tub.

I turned my head and watched as he got to the laundry basin and peered 
inside. My dress was still soaking and the last thing I needed was some 
damn dog tearing up the only piece of clothing I owned. I made for the 
tub just as he put his front paws on the edge and looked down. I stopped 
as I saw that in this position he was fully extended under his belly, 
hard, pink and glistening. He turned his head and looked at me and his 
eyes had a demand in them.

This wasn't me. It was me but it was somebody else, somebody I didn't 
know who froze for a full minute and quivered, whose mouth watered as 
her eyes ran up and down the length of that dog's penis. It was me and 
it wasn't me who got on her knees in the dirt, slowly, as he was still 
braced on the side of the washtub and put her fingertips on the side of 
that penis and on the tip where a glob of something sticky and 
transparent had formed. Whoever she was felt him press his muzzle 
against the side of her face, directing her to move her head closer, and 
she did. Then, her tongue, my tongue gathered that drop at the tip and 
took it inside my mouth or her mouth, rubbing it against the roof of her 
mouth, spreading it over the rest of whosever tongue it was and 
directing it to the opening of her throat, and feeling it sit there a 
moment before it trickled down.

There was more. My lips, and I know they were mine, settled over the end 
of this surprise gift and felt the throb, felt the blood coursing just 
under the surface and got it wet with my saliva. My mouth began to want 
more of it and when it touched my throat I felt the little spurts I knew 
I wanted to make come as fast and numerous as I could. He gave them to 
me, small doses at first and then just a little more but I knew there 
had to be a stream to tap and that I could make it flow if I would be 
allowed. There, I felt a larger throb begin and I knew it was going to 
be mine. The source, the full bursting, I wanted it and believed he 
wanted me to take it but suddenly he pulled it free from my lips and 
left me empty.

I yelped in bitter disappointment and fell from my knees, sitting in the 
dirt by the tub, shocked at what had been taken away from me. It was 
still there in front of me, even more huge and red. He sprinkled what 
he'd apparently refused to give me in the fine dust of the yard and each 
drop formed a discreet and tiny globe. I stared at the little spheres in 
dismay, feeling like what was mine had become lost and as my heart fell, 
he lighted from the tub's edge and nudged me.

It took a couple of prods with his nose and the force of his head and 
neck to get my attention but he did and he continued to herd me out of 
my seated position and around to my knees. I gasped gratefully as I 
understood what he was doing and quickly began to move like I thought he 
needed to have me. He needed to have me, I thought, and I needed...

My legs weren't far enough apart, he was telling me, and I widened my 
stance in the dirt. I need to make sure you're wet enough, he tongue was 
telling me. His tongue. It wrapped around underneath, between my legs 
and every rough bump and ridge made contact with a place Harvey didn't 
know even existed and I hadn't had much use for in some time.

His tongue was wet and rough and he drew it over that tiny bump and 
traced its tip slowly inside and then ran it along the place above that 
that I'd never, until now, thought of with much pleasure. Two, three 
more times he did that and my shoulders shivered, the chills running 
down my arms and through my nipples as I spread wider for him.

One more time, he inscribed the entire front-to-back route for me and 
somewhere in the middle I began to spasm like I'd never before in my 
life. My knees ground into the dirt and my palms filled with it as I 
clutched. Then, in the middle of that, before it had all ended like I'd 
hoped it never would, his weight was on me and I could feel the tip of 
his penis find and part me like orange opening up and gushing around him.

He shifted on his feet, finding the right stance and the best angle and 
as he did he pushed me wide only to instantly close around him to be 
able to feel, all around what was going inside, going on inside, and it 
continued to deepen. I couldn't believe, I didn't want not to believe 
how deep and how tight it had all become and then his belly was against 
my behind and there was more.

I resisted his withdrawing because that's where resistance ought to be. 
He pulled back and I dragged on him, slowing its leaving inside me and 
he agreed and began to penetrate again and I resisted to be able to feel 
him slide back in me. Inside completely this time, I thought, at the 
very opening he wanted, demanded more access. Relaxing my resistance to 
be able to discover why, something (I know what now) opened me wider 
than I anticipated and I gasped as it entered and then he restarted his 
slow withdrawal.

That thing, that presence that demanded the widening triggered in me a 
bigger spasm and I arched my back, craned my neck, pushed back against 
him as he came forward again and this time as he went inside, all the 
way inside, I was open and it filled me at the entrance.

Another spasm and he withdrew it as I convulsed down there, around the 
coupling, and another spasm as he forcefully drove it inside and then I 
knew he was flowing inside me. Pumping streams and currents and eddies 
that mixed with mine, swirling through the pit of my stomach and 
churning in my breasts. He was trembling as he strained against me, 
pushing hard toward me and I could feel in my throat those drops he'd 
allowed on my tongue before.

Clamped together, vice-like, we drove against each other as I trembled 
around his hardness and he throbbed back, each throb and tiny inside 
thrust spurting more of him inside me.

The sun had become very bright, it seemed, and I closed my eyes but 
could still see the backyard and everything around me. I heaved and 
sighed and closed and compressed and milked to receive each and every 
drop from both of us, and then I felt his head next to mine. Panting and 
gasping for breath, he turned his head and again pressed it against mine 
and I pressed back.

Minutes we stayed there, bodies touching in every place possible and 
then he lifted his head. Still connected, it felt to me as though the 
tie between us might never break until I felt his teeth slowly close on 
the back of my neck and I froze in momentary panic. They closed no 
further and he began slowly to extract himself from inside me, his 
canines on my neck tightening just slightly and breaking my skin at the 
instant the big part of him spurted outside me. He let go at that second 
and I could feel him trailing in a continuing stream that came from both 
of us and that flowed down the inside of both my thighs.

He lingered and teased me by re-entering, just slightly, before he left 
me vacant and I felt that rough tongue cleaning my thighs and inside 
where the other part of him had just been. I rolled my head and reclosed 
my eyes, allowing him sustenance and as he stopped, I rolled to a 
sitting position and looked at his eyes.

He was wounded and vulnerable. It was apparent he couldn't sit in the 
dust because his penis was sticky and drenched with what we'd made 
together. I looked again for leave to remedy the matter and he stood, 
impassive while I reached under him and drew it to my mouth. Softly and 
with a purpose, I began to remove the excess of us and felt him jerk as, 
at the end, I returned the teasing favor and sucked hard enough to 
extract a flavorful squirt of something he still had left inside. He 
butted me with his head in return and it removed my mouth but left my 
hand supporting it and gently squeezing from time to time.

We both needed water and drank from the same bowl. We both needed to lie 
back and feel the sun and we laid on the porch, his head on my thigh, 
mine on the side of his belly. While he slept I stood guard and thought 
about how this matter was to be considered.

I must have dropped off because he was standing, watching me and 
glancing toward the front of the house. I stood and began to speak but 
knew it was futile. Even if he could understand, he couldn't have stayed 
any more than I could have gone with him. He began to walk toward the 
front yard and I followed in time to see him pause between the flimsy, 
wooden gate posts and lift his leg at the base of the right one. He 
finished and turned to the left one and purposefully began to scratch at 
the base of the left one. His head cocked, he inspected both posts and 
walked through the gate and out of my life forever. I never saw him again.

Harvey came home that night, my dress had dried by then and I was as 
presentable as I wanted to be for him. He never asked whether anything 
had happened or I would have told him, told him everything, told him how 
if I could have gone, I would have, and when he went to bed I walked out 
the back door, sat on the porch and stared at the moon reflected on the 
dirty water of the washtub.

It was several days later I heard a dog barking by the front gate, 
looked out the window and saw another stranger.

I'd been reading or sewing or something, not paying attention and when I 
looked out and saw this dog I simply stared, at a dog, standing by my 
gate, simply looking back like he was asking something, and I stopped 
looking. Moments later, another bark and I looked again. The same dog, 
somewhat smaller, perhaps younger, appeared to be craning his head as he 
looked at me and as I watched I saw him sniff the base of the right gate 
post then jerk his head up towards me.

I was startled. I backed away from the window and remember placing 
something on the table as I walked to the door and opened it, slowly.

He was still there and he stayed in the same spot as I began to walk 
toward the gate. Finally, as I reached him he sat before me and I could 
see why he wanted me to come out of the house. I knelt and reached out 
my hand, caressing his chin and moving my hand down to grip what he 
needed me to touch to show him he was not wrong and we both walked 
around to the back of the house.

He was younger. Younger and excited and excitable and he wanted me as 
soon as we got behind the house. Of course, I wanted him and I was on my 
knees and open for him just after he toppled me. Oh, he was eager and 
fast and made no pretense of delicacy. He was inside, all of him, the 
first thrust and pumped me repeatedly, jerking the swelling at the base 
of his penis in and out, exciting me there immediately and repeatedly. I 
know I spasmed, orgasmed, at least twice before he finally thrust home 
inside and strained to pump everything into me.

Afterwards, he was still excited. He licked me and cleaned me and 
pranced around me and licked himself and tossed his head. I sat on the 
ground, laughing and reaching out my hand to touch him as he ran rings 
until he came up to me and nudged me over on my side and then coaxed me 
to my knees, again.

Then it was the repeat of hard, fast, urgent coupling that brought me 
off even more and emptied him. I thought. I was wrong.

I was thinking about what he was doing to me, what we were doing and I 
said out loud, "He's fucking me silly." I'd never said that word before 
but he was and for the next hour he fucked me silly twice more.

I laid in a grassy spot and he swiped me with his tongue. I flinched and 
he grinned and bounded toward the front yard. That was goodbye. He 
paused between the gate posts, refreshed the scent markings on the right 
one and inspected the scratches on the left. He made an additional 
scratch on the left and then bounded away toward the woods.

Him, I saw again. Him, I'd seen again as recently as two weeks ago, I 
think it was. He hasn't changed and we still fuck each other silly.

After that things started to pick up considerably.

Sometime Harvey had no sooner left for work than I'd hear a bark at the 
gate and someone would be standing there, sometimes several. One 
morning, after it all started, I heard the signal and there were four, 
all simply huge, and all, for course, very respectful as they sat at my 
approach. I think they wanted me to select a lucky one and as I knelt 
there, looking from each to each, handling each and comparing, it was 
clear to me that they were all in need.

I stood, quickly and turned to walk around the house. Their whining told 
me I hadn't been clear enough so I stopped and gestured for them all to 
follow. It was a morning to remember.

They ranged in age from dog middle age to an older fellow who went 
first, after I tasted his flavor and stiffened him to be inside me. He 
really took his time as I came, another word I'd taken to using, while 
he was just starting, I came while he lodged his knot in me and I came 
as he clenched against me and emptied himself deep in me.

The next, I licked and sucked and he was very eager but without much 
self control. He felt my mouth engulf him and began immediately to pump 
into my face until he spurted the vast quantity of what he had directly 
down my throat. I obliged, or course, and continued to milk him with my 
lips and tongue and throat until he was no more, then patted him and 
anticipated that before it was over he'd have another chance to plant 
himself inside me where he should be.

The final two seemed to disagree on whose turn it was but I settled it 
by sucking them both to complete hardness, selecting one to have me from 
behind while I continued to suck the other and keep him ready for 
action. That was prudent since the one behind finished fast and I was 
able to move the one in my mouth to replace him resulting in an almost 
continual series of fantastic orgasms I can still nearly recreate as I 
think about the day.

I required that they all repeat their performances and none was 
reluctant, except the old one whose penis I gently sucked while he laid 
on his side and watched. He grew in my mouth and I could feel the blood 
pumping through the blue veins as my mouth caressed him and the tip of 
it entered my throat. He began to pulsate inside my throat, widely 
spaced contractions that each ejaculated a huge quantity and I closed my 
lips around the base of his penis and squeezed his knot gently with my 
hand. I quite appreciated how the other three remained respectful of our 
needs and merely alternated using their tongues to stimulate me and 
enable me to reach climax just as the old one filled my throat and stomach.

Harvey had taken to coming home later each day from work and sometimes 
even going back into town on the pretext that he was making arrangements 
for our move. That was the plan, to move into town where he'd be closer 
to the mill, into a house he'd shown me once on the day I arrived. I 
knew they were lies, though.

The man didn't have an honest bone in his body, looked like he couldn't 
be trusted not to take a red hot stove and I'd never met anybody who 
acted like they would turn their back on him for even a second. I knew 
he'd found somebody in town, somebody desperate enough to trust him--for 
cash on the barrel head, in advance. I figured it was only a matter of 
time before he simply stopped coming home and left me out here to starve 
or move on and, frankly, since having him around was like having nobody 
around only you still had to step cautiously around this nobody and pick 
up after it, I'd be better off if he did simply disappear.

He left the next morning and I spent the day working in and around the 
house. There was plenty to do and I had what I needed to repair this and 
that, do some work out in the garden that was coming along fairly nicely 
now with lettuce and tomatoes, corn and peppers, potatoes, naturally, 
and even a few rows of kale and some more exotic things I'd coaxed into 
life.

Evening came but Harvey didn't and as I sat on the back porch and 
watched the stars, sipping iced tea, I felt at peace, unworried about 
what might happen next week or next month or the following year.

Over in the garden, I heard a rustling that was probably a rabbit or 
raccoon and before I could stand to run it off, there were two blurs 
from each side of me at the porch that raced to the vegetable patch, 
paced on either side of it until they spotted the source of the rustling 
and then efficiently pursued it--several its, as it turned out--into the 
woods behind the house.

Now I knew why I wasn't losing any produce and I smiled and leaned back 
and closed my eyes.

Something seemed different the next morning. There was an almost eerie 
quiet and calm like a storm was approaching but the day was bright 
without a cloud in the sky. Harvey still hadn't come home and I gave it 
no thought at all but started my morning routine.

Sometime at about mid-morning, I noticed two dogs sitting at the gate 
and their manner seemed different. I walked up to the gate and as I 
tried to make contact with their eyes I was met with the kind of 
distant, detached gaze I associated with the police or with a 
professional soldier on duty and at attention. I knelt before them and 
saw instantly that they were not there for the usual reason and as I 
reached out my hand one dropped his rigid posture and gently nudged my 
knuckles away, firmly.

Puzzled, I waited and then they broke their duo formation and trotted, 
one on one side and one on the other, around the house, returning to the 
gate where I had waited. I'll swear they looked at each other and nodded 
before they took off in a dead run into the woods across the road.

That exact same scene repeated itself during the mid-afternoon. Two 
different dogs but with the same purpose and efficiency appeared, I went 
out, they formally declined any attention, inspected the premises and 
sped away as quickly as they'd appeared.

Candidly, I was empty and disappointed more than I was confused. I'd 
gotten used to some canine behaviors that were radically different that 
you ever read in books but I had clear needs now and I became afraid 
those days were gone.

I turned to go to the house but before I took a step I sensed a presence 
behind me at the gate. Slowly, I looked around but the dog I saw poised 
there was like no mere dog I'd ever seen in my life.

You're probably wondering why I haven't mentioned the breed of any of 
these dogs before this. It's because I didn't have a name for it. Not 
like they were all identical. They weren't. But there were enough 
similarities among them all that it was clear they came from one stock, 
only I didn't know what to call it.

Now, I knew.

Standing between the gateposts as though they were a frame for the 
vision of art that he was, was the epitome of this bloodline. His short, 
dark coat tipped with silver, his shoulders prominent and limber, his 
haunches muscular. His large head contained the same yellow-brown eyes 
only these exuded a power and presence that commanded. His broad chest 
bore a white crest and he held my gaze for as long as I could bear it, 
until I was forced to drop my eyes, blushing in embarrassment. 
Involuntarily, I fell to my knees before him and my eyes fell on his sheath.

I'd noticed before this that it was possible to estimate the size of the 
penis by the length of the sheath plus the magnitude of the testes at 
its base. I gasped looking at him knowing he carried equipment longer 
than my forearm and it was probable that his knot was twice the size of 
my fist.

Immediately I shuddered as an anticipatory orgasm washed over me and 
would have collapsed had he not moved to my side and allowed me to lean 
against him. As I finished, he stepped away and proceeded around the 
house knowing I was respectfully behind him.

Again, I gasped as we rounded the house and I saw that the backyard was 
nearly completely filled by dogs. Four, the same four who were there in 
the morning and afternoon, detached themselves from the rest and 
escorted him to the back porch where he sat as they backed away.

I continued to walk slowly toward the porch where he was obviously 
enthroned, his front feet parted, the tip of his penis now beginning to 
peek from the end of his sheath. I stopped and slowly turned, taking in 
the sea of dogs assembled. I felt myself fixed in the gaze of each one, 
an air of obvious anticipation hung over the quiet yard and I kneeled 
before him.

Above me, I heard him gently exhale in acknowledgement and open his feet 
wider for me. As I bent forward and my lips closed on the very end of 
his penis, it extended for me and I groaned as it slid inside my mouth. 
I felt his jaws close on the back of my neck and pull me farther 
forward, him deeper inside me and, impossibly, I felt the tip open my 
throat and it slide progressively down my gullet.

On my knees now, he released my neck and urged himself further down 
inside me. Behind me, I felt a tongue begin to prepare me for a 
penetration and it came soon after. Large and followed by a knot like 
none I'd accommodated, I was being methodically fucked and made ready 
and I knew it.

I came and my throat constricted as I did, resulting in a moderate 
trickle that I could sense in my belly. The dog behind me withdrew and I 
nearly screamed at the emptiness but immediately another and larger 
penis took his place. I groaned at the size, seizing it with my vaginal 
walls and feeling them recede to allow its passage. The knot was immense 
and its owner knew how to work it inside and them jerk it out, sharply, 
then return it until another massive orgasm swept over me just as he 
withdrew. A third yet larger penis and knot replaced it and my eyes 
rolled back in my head as I believed that the one whose end was by now 
nearing my stomach and it would meet inside me and I would be completely 
skewered and in paradise.

Suddenly, all movement inside me stopped and my pinions were withdrawn. 
I collapsed in front of the leader, for that is all that he must be, and 
writhed as a vacuum seemed to exist inside me, making me devoid of 
meaning and existence. I rose to my elbows and looked up at him, 
pleading for understanding and received it.

Turn, he commanded, and I did. I raised my rear end high in the air and 
looked out on the faces of the assemblage. I could hear no breathing, no 
rustle, no sound at all and as I wondered and as I waited I was suddenly 
and completely filled and made whole again.

The power of the thrust coupled with the girth and length of the penis 
itself pushed me to a place where the piercing squeal/yell/shriek that 
came from my lungs seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. When he 
slipped the knot inside me I know I lost momentary consciousness and the 
yard reeled around me as I convulsed and gripped, squeezed and shuddered 
away from it and returned to clamp it forever where it was planted.

My orgasming wouldn't stop, I knew it wouldn't, I hoped it wouldn't, it 
could be no more powerful, no more overwhelming of all of my senses. And 
then he began to ejaculate inside me. As he did each and all of the dogs 
present, began to emit a low growl that rose in intensity and filled my 
ears as my belly was filling with semen, his semen, his come, my come 
and I was washed and cleansed outside as the din poured over me and 
inside as the river gushed through his pumping cock and possessed me.

I have no way of knowing how long I lay impaled there. After a bit, the 
dogs began a kind of passing in review where they'd approach me 
individually, look me in the eye and lick my cheek or brow and then 
present their cocks for me to lick and suck in return. As I would, the 
massive cock inside me would reposition itself, the knot turn slightly 
and as each of more than 100 courtiers emptied his cock in my mouth I 
would climax in return.

As the last approached, I could tell he was different in bearing and 
manner and, indeed, he stopped short and instead of looking at me, 
looked at the leader, expectantly. I detected a nod behind me and the 
new dog walked around and suddenly there was no weight and then both 
their bodies were upon me. As the new dog, the son of the leader, began 
to work the tip of his cock, nearly as large as his fathers, into my 
anus I experienced a lightness as though I might cease being but as he 
filled me, as his penis slid next to his father's and they joined me 
inside and then as they began to thrust alternately time existed no more.

I rose on their thrusting and pumping and I came without ending, 
constricting and convulsing around them both. The rivers inside me began 
to roar and I could hear them spilling in my ears inside me, hear them 
gushing and my last thought before I did lose consciousness was, 
"Fulfilled."

I awoke in my own bed. I could hear somebody or something moving around 
in the kitchen and half raised to try to catch a glimpse of it.

"Hey, you're finally awake, you goddam lazy cunt," Harvey's voice came 
through the doorway. "Where'd you get the mutt? He wouldn't let me near 
you."

I looked down at the side of the bed and saw what he meant. The dog's 
steady gaze never left the doorway and a low rumble emanated from his 
chest. Suddenly, he barked sharply and as I glanced out the window I saw 
a militia of dogs begin to form, waiting for some order or direction.

"Come to the door, Harv," I said.

"Jesus, who're you to give ord..." he started as he appeared in the 
doorway and then gulped as he noticed several dogs outside the front door.

"Empty your pockets and put everything, and I mean everything, every 
cent you have, on that table right there, then slowly walk out the front 
door and don't come back," I did order.

"What the fuck?!" he snarled.

"If you want to live, you'll do as you're told," I replied softly.

I never saw him again. I did see a couple of guys who I figure were sent 
by him or who heard the story, come up the road but only get as close as 
100 yards before the snarling from the woods sent them running.

I live in harmonious service now. I service those who service me and 
often receive the favor of the leader in ceremony. I know my purpose and 
my own favor is valued, my well-being assured.

Finally, I don't believe my story is unique. I enjoy believing there are 
others in my position, living in balance with those who appreciate it.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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