("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._
`6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`)
(_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-'
_..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,'
(((' (((-((('' ((((
K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
_________________________________________
WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
_________________________________________
Scroll down to view text
Archive name: alone1.txt (MF, rp, v, 1st, beast, mc)
Authors name: Matthew Steele (matt2670@aol.com)
Story title : Alone in the Woods - 1
--------------------------------------------------------
Copyright 2001. As the author, I claim all rights under
international copyright laws. This work is not intended
for sale, but please feel free to post this story to
other archives or newsgroups, keeping the header and
text intact. Revision to the text (such as the basis
for another story) is acceptable as long as the
original author is given credit and the resulting story
is distributed free of charge. Any commercial use of
this work is expressly forbidden without the written
permission of the author.
--------------------------------------------------------
Alone in the Woods - 1 (MF, rp, v, 1st, beast, mc)
by Matthew Steele (matt2670@aol.com)
***
At her parent's cabin in the mountains, Laura plans
spending a nice day reading poetry. The day is
beautiful, she is alone and happy, and has not a care
in the world. Then Laura meets her neighbor. Join her
as Laura spends the rest of the day tied to tree, a
victim of her neighbor's shapeshifting. He is a mental
werewolf.
***
This is a work of fiction and is not meant to portray
any person living or dead, nor any known situation.
This story contains themes of bondage, bestiality and
rape, anal sex, incest, and lesbian sex. It is meant
for adults only and is not to be read by persons under
the age of 18, or the legal age in the
county/state/country in which the reader resides.
If you would like a Microsoft Word or WordPerfect
version of this story (a much better read), please
contact me at matt2670@aol.com.
Alone in the Woods
by Matthew Steele
(matt2670@aol.com)
Part I: Laura's Long Afternoon
Chapter 1
Flipping through the pages of a slender book, Laura
rested against the bole of a huge oak, relishing the
warm sunshine. It was a poetry collection by Sylvia
Dann, whom Laura had never read--in fact, she had only
discovered poetry within the past month--but was
enjoying very much. One week past her eighteenth
birthday, headed for NYU in the fall, Laura was on
summer vacation.
She wore a paisley print sundress and white sandals, no
hosiery. She absentmindedly raised the sundress high on
her thighs, spreading her legs to enjoy the freedom
solitude brings. Her legs, long and shapely--though a
tiny bit thin--were nicely tanned. Before leaving the
cabin, she had seriously considered removing her
panties and brassiere, feeling a summer afternoon in
the Adirondack's nature's wish she be unencumbered.
Upbringing won out. She had removed her brassiere to
enjoy that subtle pleasure, but had kept her panties
on. They peeked now from between her thighs, cool and
satiny white, soft against what lay beneath.
"'Soldier by Night'," Laura read.
It was the fourth poem in the volume, and so far its
longest. She skimmed through the dozen or so pages,
then began to read:
Tell me not about flags!
I care not.
Tomorrow brings flowers and steam afloat
like misting dreams,
the sun a yellow haze behind gun-black soot.
The dawn, a remembrance of yesterday's dawn,
gone forever,
light in my dreams but in reality dark.
Laura's blonde, shoulder-length hair was swept back
from her forehead under a plastic headband, tucked
behind each ear, casually falling against the nape of
her neck. A smaller, colorless plastic barrette kept
order above each eye. She occasionally brushed away a
strand dislodged by the breeze, either with her hand or
by blowing at it from the corner of her mouth. Her
white flats, pop-eye bright in the afternoon sun,
dangled loosely from her toes. They bounced along with
whatever song played in Laura's head. The only sounds
were the whir of insects, an occasional trilling bird,
and the scamper of small animals through the bush.
Minutes crept by. A shadow crossed Laura's legs.
Engrossed in a particularly difficult passage, it took
a moment to register that someone was with her. She
looked up, startled, discovered a boy of about ten. She
immediately snapped closed her legs. "Hello," she said,
smiling shyly.
Dressed in--of all things--a brand-new cowboy outfit,
the boy was a miniature Roy Rogers. He sported a pair
of low slung, imitation ivory-handled pistols on either
hip, an immaculate black cowboy hat tipped back at a
cocky angle, and a tasseled shirt. His appearance was
unsettling rather than ridiculous. He eyed Laura with
suspicion.
"I'm Laura," she said, uneasily. "I'm staying over
there." She pointed across the small clearing to the
line of trees opposite, where unseen behind the foliage
was her family's summer cabin. "Beyond that other
grove." She raised a hand to her brow to block the
afternoon sun. "And who are you?"
"Bruce," the boy answered. His voice was stronger and
deeper than Laura would have expected. He said nothing
else, only continued to stare. With a tiny start, Laura
noticed the coiled rope in his right hand. He slapped
the rope against his knee.
"You live around here?" she asked.
The boy nodded. He pointed with the rope toward a cabin
at the bottom of the hill, just visible through the
trees. So he was vacationing also.
"Well, Bruce," she said, trying unsuccessfully to come
up with something intelligent to say. "That's quite an
outfit you've got on."
The boy's scowl deepened. "What's that mean?" he
demanded.
"Nothing," she said, trying a conciliatory tone. "It
was a compliment." She felt the first small ripple of
fear.
The boy looked away in sudden disinterest. "You seen my
dog?"
"Your dog?"
He grumbled, implying Laura was less than quick. "My
dog. Tonto. He came in this direction."
Taking the opportunity to discreetly lower her dress,
Laura looked around." Sorry," she said. "I haven't seen
anything. What's he look like?"
"Big," the boy said. "Black. Kind of a white band
around his head." The boy circled his own head with a
fingertip.
An Indian headband, thought Laura. Hence the name.
The boy abruptly squatted and peered at the book's
cover. "What's this?" he said.
"Poetry," said Laura. She was afraid, having the boy
this close.
"Mushy stuff."
"It's not mushy," she said. "It's romantic."
The boy made a face. Casually, he reached out and took
Laura's left hand, turned the pages outwards, as though
inspecting them would reveal the secrets inside.
"I could let you have it when I'm finished," Laura
suggested. She did not like his hand on her wrist.
The boy read, silently moving his lips, his expression
growing perplexed. He shook his head. "I don't get it,"
he said. "Who's Daphne?"
"She's lost in the wood with one of the soldiers. She's
trying to explain her fear of the war, but the soldier
is only interested in getting back to his comrades."
The boy grunted. "You can't get lost in the woods." He
looked around, as though checking his beliefs. He
suddenly looped the rope around Laura's left wrist and
hitched it into a knot. He drew the knot tight.
Laura tried not to sound frightened. "What are you
doing?"
"Tying you up," he said.
Laura was amazed at his boldness. And his calm.
"Suppose I don't want to be tied up?" she said, trying
to sound light, yet disapproving at the same time.
"You don't want to play?" He looked as though "no,"
would be a slap in the face.
Laura swallowed. What had she gotten herself into?
"Well, just for a minute," she said, doubtfully. "And
not too tight, okay? I have to finish reading this
poem."
Bruce said nothing. Taking the book, he stood and
walked around the tree, pulling the rope, and with it
Laura's left wrist, along with him.
"Ow!" she said, having to twist sideways. "Not so
hard!"
The boy appeared at her right side, book in hand.
"Well?" he said.
"Well what?"
He gave her a disgusted look, took her other wrist.
"Wait a minute," she said. "I don't like this." She
pulled free of the boy's grip and took back the book,
lay it beside her on the grass. She was about to
extricate her other arm when the boy simply stole back
her wrist and bound it behind the tree with a quick
flip of the rope.
"Hey! Ow! That hurts!" The rope tightened more. "Bruce!
You're hurting me!"
The boy grunted and Laura's shoulders were pinched
firmly against the trunk. Almost frantic, she tried to
pull free. She could not.
"This is not funny!" she cried. "Let me go!" Already, a
terrible strain grew in her shoulders. "It's too
tight!" she cried.
"It has to be tight," the boy said, as though technique
were the important factor. "You can get loose if it
ain't tight."
Laura tossed her head to the right and a soft mass of
hair fell over her eyes, obscuring vision. She tried to
shake it away, unsuccessfully. "Could you get the hair
out of my face? Please?"
"No."
Bastard! She gave a quick, hard yank on the rope but
felt no movement at all. "It's too tight!" she
repeated.
The boy muttered, something Laura did not catch.
"What?"
The boy muttered again. He came around the tree to
stand before her.
"You need to let me go," Laura voiced slowly. "Right
now." Panic was a small, quick animal scurrying in her
gut, and it had very sharp claws. She shifted her
agonized shoulders against the bark and one ridge dug
into her like a finger.
"You ain't all tied up, lady," Bruce said,
unexpectedly.
Laura grunted. "I'm not? I sure feel like I am." She
tried seeing through her hair, saw only the left side
of his face. "What are you planning to do?" she
demanded. Immediately she regretted asking.
"Lots of things," the boy said. His eyes clouded like a
hot summer afternoon. He reached back and removed a
large red bandana from his hip pocket and wiped his
face. He had begun to sweat. Then he folded the bandana
neatly into a gag.
"Now wait a minute!" Laura cried, twisting against the
rope. Could she get free if she really had to?
If I really have to? What's this, if not really have
too?
She looked at the red scarf. "What are you doing with
that?"
"Gagging you."
"No! Oh, no, you're not." She pulled forward and
twisted side to side. "This had gone far enough. Untie
me right now!"
"I am not a little boy," Bruce said, glaring at her
hotly.
Laura blinked. "I didn't say you were."
He leaned forward until their noses almost touched.
Cowed by his anger, Laura became still. Very carefully,
she said: "I'm sorry if you think I offended you,
Bruce. I didn't intend to. But really, my arms are
beginning to hurt and I have to go pee. Please untie
me."
"No."
Before she could react, the scarf was jammed forcefully
into her mouth.
"Mmmuuumphh!"
"Shut up," the boy said. The words were said in an
almost offhand manner, making them all the more scary.
"Mmmuuumphh!"
The boy unexpectedly removed the scarf and she gasped
in air. "Thank you! I knew you'd see reason. Now, let
me go and we can play this game some other time!"
"No."
"Please!"
"No."
Laura tried another tack. "Listen," she said. "It's
going to be dark soon. Untie me and I'll help you find
your dog. What's his name again?"
"No."
"Bruce. You have to let me go."
The boy stood back, rubbed the palm of his right hand
against the butt of his pistol. His eyes, dark as a
thunderstorm, were fixed on Laura's chest. Again, out
of nowhere, he said: "It's not good to lie."
Laura shuddered.
How do you reason with instability? she thought. And
this boy was definitely unstable. Was he dangerous as
well?
She thought maybe so.
"Okay," she said. "You win. You're in charge. What do
you want to do?"
The boy stared. His stormy eyes (did they actually seem
to flash?) roamed her face, then up and down her body,
then to her exposed legs. (Thank God her panties were
on, she thought.) He reached out to brush hair from her
eyes, then stopped.
"No, please," she said, leaning forward. "Put it behind
my ears." She raised her face to make it easier. "It's
so much better if I can see."
The boy didn't move. He stared at her chest.
Gulping, Laura looked down. Strapped as she was to the
tree, her small breasts rode high and jutting, like
hillocks through the front of her dress. They resembled
exclamation points.
"Don't be naughty," she said, both embarrassed and
fearful. The boy continued to stare. Laura squirm
uncomfortably. Like a bright neon sign, the word "Rape"
flashed in her mind. "Can we stop this? Please?"
The boy's eyes dropped lower--and widened. Alarmed,
Laura glanced quickly downward and almost groaned. Her
ministrations had worked the hem of her dress back up
her thighs. Her crotch and white satin panties was
again exposed and she slapped her thighs together.
"Don't even think about it," she said hoarsely. Her
face radiated heat.
Bruce licked his lips and a rush of apprehension swept
through Laura's gut. Things had spiraled completely out
of hand.
"Let me go, Bruce."
Through her obscuring fall of hair, the boy looked into
Laura's left eye. "I'm not nasty," he said. I'm not
going to rape you."
Laura shuddered convulsively. "Let me go then," she
whispered. "This will be our little secret. No one has
to know."
Without saying a word, the boy rose and searched the
surrounding ground with his eyes. Moving five paces to
the next tree, he stooped and worked loose a half-
buried rock. It was the size of a hamburger pattie,
caked with loose earth and mold. He hefted the rock in
his palm, turned and looked at Laura. His eyes were
stone cold.
"What are you doing, Bruce?" Her voice cracked with
fear.
The boy smiled frostily. "Nothing."
He returned and pressed Laura's head back against the
tree, cleared her face of hair.
"No!" she cried, jerking back and forth convulsively.
"Don't you dare!"
The boy took her head firmly between his hands, jammed
it against the tree, and growled: "Hold still." The
rock ground into her right temple, spilling soil into
her eye.
"Owww! Bruce! That hurts!"
The boy groped for her mouth.
"No! Don't do that!"
The rock was forced against her lips, hard, and Laura
clamped tight.
"Nnnuhh!"
"Open," the boy said. He ground the stone on her lips.
Twisting her head sharply away, Laura took a lung full
of air. "You are not putting that thing in my mouth!"
she screamed. The boy dragged her face back around and
Laura screamed again, "Damn you!" but Bruce had a
fistful of hair and her head was yanked violently back.
She had no choice but to open up.
"Immmnnn!" She kicked with both feet but managed only
to lose her shoes. "Immmnnn!"
"There," the boy said, stepping back. "Much better."
Laura cried out and kicked at him, but the boy backed
further away. Lodged against the roof of her mouth, the
rock threatened to cut her palate; it covered her
tongue with earth. She kicked out again, struggled
violently as the boy secured the red bandana around her
head, cinching it over her mouth. Then he tied it
behind her left ear in a big knot. Then he stepped
back.
"Mnathurd!" Bastard! She breathed through her nose,
shaking.
The boy sat down.
"You okay?"
Trapped like an animal, at the boy's mercy, Laura
pleaded with her one seeing eye. "Mmmnnnnmmm!" she
begged.
Eying his handiwork, the boy stood up. Laura watched
through her hair as he disappeared around the tree,
then winced when the rope drew tighter. Her hands must
be blue. They were certainly numb. She worked her
fingers to restore circulation but felt only a cold,
tingly ache. He came back around.
"Mnathurd!"
The boy grinned.
"Et-ee-ohh!" Let me go!
Drool leaked from the corner of her mouth. She wiped it
against her shoulder. The front of the boys pants were
right before her face and as they stirred ominously,
Laura wondered if she would be raped. Exposed and taut
over her crotch--she felt herself etched like a relief
map against the thin material--her panties were the
only protection she had.
The boy considered her at length. Laura sensed
conflict. On the one hand, he was still a child, not
yet into puberty, but she also knew her eleven-year-old
cousin got hard-ons. Strong ones for his tiny size,
embarrassingly strong. He had already deflowered two
little girls in his neighborhood. Though it was
questionable if a ten year old could sustain an
erection long enough to commit rape, her age-ripened
body was a blatant invitation. That alone might sustain
him.
Laura crossed her legs but it didn't help. The material
only pinched seductively, drawing attention to her
crotch like a road sign. Worse, her traitorous nipples
had grown hard, and though camouflaged by the colorful
material, they popped suggestively out. For perhaps the
first time in her short life, Laura wished to be ugly.
"You look uncomfortable," the boy said.
Laura grunted. Of course she was uncomfortable. She was
tied to a tree.
Saliva ran down her chin, dropping to the front of her
dress in a fragile string. She pleaded again: "Et-ee-
ohh!"
"You should try to relax," the boy said. "Stretch out
your legs, stop pulling on the rope." He began to rub
her shoulders. "Better?"
Laura grunted. If it weren't such a welcome relief, she
would have kicked him in the shin. Instead, she tried
letting the muscles in her shoulders relax, take the
strain out of her arms.
"I thought so. You could even, you know..."
Laura shuddered. Perhaps she should extend a balm,
satisfy some of his adolescent need. In exchange for
freedom. Dangerous, but her jeopardy was already high.
She uncrossed her legs, raised her knees, and let them
drop halfway down.
The boy nodded and slowly smiled.
Though unnerving, Laura realized this new position
helped. Pulling her heels in toward her buttocks, she
pushed against the tree, raising herself up. This
helped her shoulders even more. It also left her crotch
thoroughly exposed, starkly outlined against the white
panties. She squeezed closed her legs.
The boy gulped and dug deeper with his fingers.
Squirming, Laura closed her eyes. For just a moment she
had a rush of hot pleasure, a sudden traitorous bloom,
then she clamped down on that feeling hard. Oh, no you
don't! He's not getting a reaction from me! She
reopened her eyes.
"Ah-aa-oo-oh-eee."
The boy looked down. "What?"
"Ah-aa-oo-oh-eee." I have to go pee.
The boy shook his head.
Of course you don't understand! Laura thought. Take off
this gag!
The boy did nothing. For a youngster, she realized, he
was quite attractive. None of the puffy fullness of
other boys, no straight up and down physique. His face
was strong, willful even, and there was nothing
childlike in his eyes. Crazy, yes, animalistic, but not
childlike. Then, with dismay, she realized her legs had
fallen wider and the boy's stare was locked on her
privates.
Was she beginning to like this?
The boy moved away, shivering. Through her one eye
Laura saw he breathed hard and his heart pounded
visibly against the shirt. He shivered again. Then he
sank to his knees. Laura sucked air through her nose
and backed away. "Nnnnmmmmfff!" she pleaded, shaking
her head. Hair obscured her vision completely, but
shaking it fiercely away, her right eye cleared.
"Nnnnummpfff!" she repeated.
The boy moved forward, captured her ankles. She kicked
them loose. "Aw-ihh! Ah-eee-oo-oh-eee." Stop it! I need
to go pee.
The boy laughed
Laura shook her head again, lost vision again. Banging
against the tree brought it back.
The boy barked at her sharply: "Don't do that!" He
pushed back the right side of her hair, inexpertly
tucked it behind the ear. "I told you I wouldn't hurt
you. Don't hurt yourself!"
Laura grunted, plaintively.
"Whatever it is--no."
Placing her left leg outside his right thigh, the boy
reached out and touched her panties. He wants to see
under them, Laura thought, touch me right there. She
drew her knees together, shifting to the side, butting
Bruce in the stomach. The boy grunted his surprise. He
took each knee in one hand and though she struggled
against it, spread them easily apart. He was very
strong.
"Ummpfff!" She shook her head furiously, eyes begging
him to stop.
The boy ignored her, opened her legs wider, and Laura
shifted in panic. She got her left leg free and planted
it squarely in the boy's chest. With a panic-driven
push she sent him sprawling backwards, somersaulting,
coming up hard against the base of the next tree. He
whacked his head hard. He lay there, stunned.
Panting through her nose, Laura struggled terrifically
against the rope.
"Ungh," the boy said, half-rising. He looked skyward
with swimmy eyes, fell back on one elbow. "Ow," he
said, holding the back of his head. He removed it and
looked at his fingertips for blood. He looked at Laura.
"That hurt!"
Laura grunted, belligerently.
The boy blinked. "What?"
Laura grunted the noise again.
Sitting up, he grasped his knees and said
sarcastically, "Oh. I see."
A rivulet--no, a river--of sweat ran down Laura's cheek
and plunged to her chest below, soaking the point over
her left nipple. Another river rolled down her throat
into the open top of her dress, down between her
breasts and to her stomach. Perspiration wrapped her
like clammy dew. Her armpits were soaked. It was
insufferably hot.
"You kicked me," Bruce said. He looked at her, shaking
his head. "I ought to kick you back."
Laura tried to display regret, but with most of her
face buried under loose hair, the boy saw nothing.
"Bitch!"
Laura shook her head. "Nmmnnnmm."
"You sure as hell are." He got to his hands and knees
and crawled back. Taking her left ankle, he sat back on
his calves and put her foot in his lap. He smacked the
top of it hard.
"Unnnnhhhh!"
"Kick me again and I'll really hurt," he said. His
voice wasn't the voice of a young boy. He sounded like
her father. "Give me your other foot."
Hesitantly, Laura lifted her right foot and placed the
heel in the boy's hand. She whimpered quietly. He
removed a second bandana--this one blue, showing his
disregard for either side of the Crips-Blood feud--and
wrapped it around her ankle. He knotted it, leaving the
other end loose. Laura understood why.
"Since you're so willing to use these," he said, "I
better to get them out of the way." The boy smiled.
"Remove temptation."
On the verge of panic, Laura shook her head.
"Nnnnnuuuhhh!"
Ignoring her, Bruce tucked her left foot against her
thigh and secured it in place with the free end of the
bandana. She groaned loudly.
"Hurt?"
Laura moaned.
"Good."
He moved to her right side and felt behind the tree for
the rope's loose end. He used it to secure her right
ankle to her thigh. Contorted into nearly impossible
angles, her thigh muscles screamed. Panic threatened to
overwhelm her.
Bruce wiggled her right toes. "Comfy?"
Laura screamed. Saliva in ropey strings hung to the
front of her dress, each movement making them wiggle.
She felt sick. She swallowed around the stone, fighting
a gag, knowing she could not vomit. She would choke to
death.
And goddamn it! She had to pee!
The boy forced her right leg farther back, making her
thigh muscles threaten to tear. She screamed in pain.
"Hurt?" he asked again.
Laura whimpered helplessly. The boy released her leg.
"Don't hurt me and I won't hurt you. Okay?"
Laura nodded.
"Good."
He moved forward and again massaged her neck. Laura
worked her shoulders against his hands, trying to ease
the pain, unable now to feel her arms. The were numb
right up to her armpits. She shifted forward, dug in
her heels and lifted herself. It didn't help. Her thigh
muscles quaked. She whined plaintively.
"Forget it. You're not getting free."
The boy stared at her stretched white panties, at the
bulging lips behind, at the small wet spot that had
developed. He surreptitiously rubbed the front of his
pants. The remaining free length of the rope was by his
foot, maybe six feet in length, and he casually picked
it up and wound it in a coil. "Sorry," he said, as
though suddenly contrite. "But I have to do this."
Laura closed her eyes. This was it, then. Rape. She
knew it and he knew it. Her only hope was someone
happening by and she glanced furtively in both
directions. The boy caught her look and looked around
himself. He shook his head.
"No one here but you and me." He tapped the rope
against his thigh. "We've been coming here for years,
and I know every cabin around. The Meyerson's--" he
pointed west, through the trees, "-- are the closest
cabin, but they don't get here until the last week of
July. The next closest cabin is three miles away." He
grinned. "Can you be heard three miles?"
Laura thought more like three yards.
"No one's going to help you," he said.
Laura objected past the rock. Her parents would.
"I checked before I left," the boy said, reading her
thoughts. "No parents, no car."
No salvation there either.
Laura's mom and dad would be gone all day, maybe the
night. They had taken Jeremy, her younger brother, down
to Utica for his twice-weekly kidney dialysis. One
hundred and ten miles from Racquet Lake, plus three
long hours hooked to the damned machine, they might as
well be in China. Often, Jeremy was so weak afterwards
her parents simply checked into a local motel and spent
the night. And since there was no phone in the cabin,
Laura went under the assumption they would see her
tomorrow. Until now, she was glad for the time alone.
Bruce reached out and placed his hand over the flat of
her belly. Laura looked down, shaking. An embryo had
recently grown there, but no more. Careless sex on a
careless April night, performed by a careless boy and
girl. She thought about the procedure that emptied her
womb and how much less terrible that ordeal now seemed.
She wished she were back on the table, heels stirruped,
vagina open, waiting for the doctor. Maybe this was her
punishment; God's payback.
A large wet spot had formed over her left breast,
revealing the outline of her aureole and the small
stiffened nipple. The boy stared at it, as though
mesmerized. His huge erection swelled the front of his
jeans. He licked his lips.
At least his attention is away from my crotch, she
thought, though he had not yet removed his hand.
Somehow, she felt, being touched there, where life had
originated and had then died, seemed more unnerving
than being touched below. She shifted again, pulled
back against the tree, looked into his face.
"You've had sex, right?"
Laura looked uncertainly with her one eye, then nodded.
"You like it?"
She remained still.
"I said I wouldn't hurt you."
Laura nodded slowly.
"With the right guy?"
She nodded again.
The boy looked thoughtful.
"How many times?"
"Nnnun-utth-uour-ithness."
The boy grinned. "None of my business?"
Laura nodded.
The boy laughed out loud. He removed his hand and put
it on his thigh.
"You'd like to kick the shit out of me, wouldn't ya?"
Laura hesitated, then nodded yes. She made a sentence
long on undecipherable words. The boy laughed again.
"Well, maybe you'll get your chance," he said. He
looked into Laura's eye. "Can I touch your breasts?"
Laura became still. Finally, lowering her gaze, she
shrugged permission. At least he had asked.
Putting down the coiled rope (Laura knew he intended
tying her head to the trunk if things went badly) he
reached out and placed a tentatively hand over each
breast. They seemed to fit his palms exactly. A quiver
ran up her spine.
"They're really soft," the boy whispered. Laura raised
her eye. He laughed. "They're really firm."
Incredibly, Laura had a reaction. A thrumming began in
her chest, then one in her lower belly, then one in
that most sacred of places, between her legs. Heat
baked her face.
"How old are you?" he asked. "Sixteen?"
Laura shook her head.
He continued in the wrong direction. "Fifteen?" Then:
"Seventeen? Eighteen. My sister's twenty," he said.
"Susan." He nodded toward the bottom of the hill.
"She's probably asleep. Sleeps all the time. Laziest
girl I ever met." He brushed aside Laura's hair and
wiped away the strings of saliva. The hair fell
immediately back in place but her saliva flood seemed
to have stopped.
"Want me to do it?" the boy asked.
Laura looked at him with her left eye. She once had
unfulfilled dreams, wonderful pictures of how the first
time would be. He'd say gentle things, touch her
gently, say he needed her touch. They would hold hands
and kiss, making Laura feel alive and heated and a
wholly equal partner. Instead, she got banged in the
back seat of a Dodge.
Now some stupid kid in a cowboy outfit wants to know if
I want to do it.
He removed his hands from her breasts. "I take it
that's a no."
Laura shook her head and indicated to put his hands
back. Why, she didn't know. He replaced them and Laura
moved herself slightly forward under his touch. Her
nipples swelled. She closed her eyes. The sunlight on
her hair made a golden glow against which her face felt
bathed. The stone pressed against her soft palate, but
the gag reflex had eased, and she simply pushed it
forward with her tongue. The worst of the taste had
gone. If only her jaw didn't ache.
She groaned and arched her chest forward and he
embraced her with care. No--he caressed her. She took a
lung full of air and then his hands were undoing the
straps of her dress, and then they were unbuttoned, and
he lowered the dress and let it rest against her tummy.
Her breasts were bare. Her nipples responded by growing
even more.
"My, God," the boy whispered, letting out a hiss of
air. Then: "They're beautiful."
Laura opened her eyes. The boy stared as though finding
a chest of gold. She needn't look to know how high she
jutted: They threatened to pop off her chest. Her
nipples pulsed, throbbed with urgent desire, needed to
be touched and held and pinched.
"Can I hold them?" he asked.
She had never wanted anything more. "Mnuummph."
The boys eyes were wide and starry and his hands
twitched." What?"
"Mnuummph."
"I'm sorry," he said, fumbling at the gag. "I'm having
a hard time not doing what I said I wouldn't do." He
licked his lips. From his expression, he had lost the
fight already. His erection, eight inches long, maybe
nine, formed an alarmingly big rise beside the zipper.
It was the largest erection Laura had ever seen. It was
not that of a boy.
"Mnuummph!"
"I'm trying!" the boy said. His face was scarlet and
shiny with sweat. "It's tighter than I thought."
Laura shook her head. Sounds gurgled in her throat. Her
body seemed to vibrate and what she wanted was to be
let go and then do it.
The boy gave up and lowered his face to Laura's chest,
kissed the skin right above nipple. His tongue played
over her skin, tasting it; he put his hands back on her
breasts.
Laura shut her eyes tight. I am not doing this! she
thought, pushing her chest up to him.
There was a sudden loud snap.
Both Laura and the boy jumped, looked to their right.
The underbrush stirred and Bruce whipped his hands off
her breasts, and fell back. As though it were real, he
gripped the pistol on his right hip.
"Who's there!"
Laura strained to see.
"Stay here," the boy said, rising. (Both missed the
irony.) He moved to the tree line, hand still on the
gun butt, and there was another crack!
"Who's there, dammit!" He yelled. Then, crazily, "I
have a gun!"
The sound came closer and Bruce backed away. Too loud
for a dog, Laura thought. In woods, dogs moved with
stealthy quiet.
A final loud crack and Bruce hissed, "Shit!", then took
off running, bounding out of sight into the opposite
trees. Laura's heart trip-hammered as she shouted after
him.
Crack!
She twisted against the rope, craning to see, and the
bandana and the rope securing her ankles threatened to
break her in half. Was it a bear? A lion?
A hiker?
This last was not only the choice most likely, but also
the most dangerous one. She might be raped. Worse, she
might be killed.
Holding her breath, Laura whimpered, forced herself to
remain calm. She worked her wrists and feet against the
bonds, then something touched her right shoulder. Laura
screamed. Throwing her head to the right, she brained
herself on the tree and stars exploded before her eyes.
Dizzy and unable to breath, she felt the light slipping
from of her eyes, and falling toward oblivion, the last
thing she saw were the slit yellow eyes of a demon.
Chapter 2
A narrow band of sunlight slanted through the trees and
shone on Laura's hair. Combined with the strain of her
bondage, it conspired to send rivers of sweat down her
chest. Her dress was soaked; her bare chest gleamed.
For Laura, the sweat and the pain of bondage didn't
exist; only the trip-hammering of her heart, and the
grotesquely loud breathing in her right ear.
She dared not move. She was terrified.
She had awoken some minutes before, to something rough
and bristly on her right shoulder. Jumping
convulsively, she kept her head down and her eyes shut.
The touch went away for a time, then returned. Slowly,
as slowly as a creeping minute hand about a watch face,
she moved sideways.
It was a goat. A goddamned goat!
She jerked her head up and whacked the goat's snout
with her cheek. The goat brayed and stumbled away,
hoofing the earth. It snorted. If Laura could have, she
would have laughed.
A goat!
It had nibbled her hair.
She could have kissed it!
After a minute's observance, the goat decided Laura was
no further threat and shuffled back. Its rough tongue
lapped at her shoulder and sweaty armpit, and though it
felt funny and gross, it didn't hurt.
Must be the salt, she guessed. Lots of salt in
perspiration.
Laura--the human salt-lick.
While the goat satisfied its odd need, Laura looked
around the clearing. No Bruce. Only herself and the
goat. She debated whether or not she wanted Bruce to
come back.
Emboldened by her lack of response, the animal slopped
its tongue against the sensitive area at the base of
Laura's neck and a hard shiver ran through her.
"Ayy! Gwuith-ath!" Hey! Quit that!
The goat backed away.
Laura twisted her head and rubbed the affected spot
with her chin, only to be chased away when the goat
returned.
"I told you to stop."
The goat licked halfway up her neck.
"Oh, gross!"
She twisted her head and tried again to swat the
animal's snout. He pulled back, regarding her coolly
with yellow eyes.
"Cut it out," she mumphed. "I won't tell you again."
The goat suddenly looked at the surrounds, into the
trees and undergrowth, seeming to listen. Laura
listened too.
"What is it?" she mumphed.
The goat butted her gently with his snout, as if to
say, "Quiet," then listened some more. Laura listened
also. Neither heard anything more, and the goat turned
back and licked Laura across the front of her neck.
"Yuck! Stop that!"
Scavenging salt from her chin to the swell of her
breasts, the tongue worked her up and down, left and
right. Laura became increasingly alarmed. She tried
butting it again with her chin, then her chest, but she
was ignored. Then the goat stepped casually between her
legs, dipped his head, and began lapping its wide
tongue over the flat of her belly. Laura jumped back.
"Cut that out! Stop!"
Truly alarmed, she shoved backward against the tree,
then sideways. The goat continued to lick and Laura
could only cringe and watch in wide-eyed amazement.
What would she do if it licked her crotch?
The goat raised its head and sniffed her left nipple.
"No. Please."
It licked and Laura jumped away.
The goat licked her again.
"Jesus!" she cried, convulsing her chest. The goat
nuzzled the underside of her breast and ran its tongue
up to the nipple, then over it, bringing it immediately
to attention. "Stop! Jesus! Mommy!"
This was worse than being molested.
Laura clambered sideways and up the tree, mewing deeply
in her chest. The goat followed with remorseless
indifference. It claimed all of her skin, licking
incessantly at her nipples, as though drawn to the hard
little points. It nipped her left breast.
"Ow!"
It nipped her again.
"Stop that!"
Looking about frantically, Laura struggled against the
ropes, discovering some unexpected movement in her
legs. She batted the goat's head with her knee.
Braying, he started and jumped back, but Laura paid
dearly for the act. Sheets of white pain whipped
through her hips and her right thigh seized in a
charley-horse.
"Nuunngggh!" she screamed.
Twisting back and forth, desperate to ease the cramp,
Laura screamed into the gag. The goat watched
curiously, a spectator at a tennis match. After a
further ten seconds agony, the cramping eased.
"Jesus! Jesus, Mary and Joseph!" Laura yelled.
What would she do if the cramp had continued, full
force? She wasn't going to find out. She made herself
relax.
Immediately, the goat came back and resumed its
licking. Laura ignored it. She thought about school.
She thought about her part-time job. She thought about
Cowboy Bruce.
What was he, anyway?
No ten year old, that was for sure. Not with an
erection like that. Eight inches long. Thick as a
bottle. Laura had witnessed its arrival herself, knew
this was no sock-stuffing fake. The boy was a mutant, a
freak, a hormonally-imbalanced threat. Wanting it or
not, she had come this damned close to being raped.
Probably she would be when he came back.
The goat concentrated on her left nipple, starting a
buzz in her head that Laura could no longer ignore. Her
gut tightened. The sensation widened. The goat tickled
her nipple, then rasped it, then made it hurt. Each new
lick made it harder to think and she expanded inside,
as though taking in air and not letting it out. Her
breasts swelled like balloons, growing lighter and more
taut, the tips bouncing like ticking metronomes.
It felt good. It felt disgustingly good.
The goat, lost in its animal stupidity, had no idea of
her response--it only wanted salt. Or so Laura thought.
Her pheromone rush had triggered a rush of it's own.
Between it's hind legs a small pod began to thicken,
soon emerging as an erect penis; pink, wet and eerily
human.
Laura groaned. Her drooling was back and again growing
ropes to her chest. She worked her mouth trying to stop
the flow, but this only worsened the ache. Worse, the
goat followed the salt-rich saliva back to the source
and began licking her face. Disgusted, Laura turned
away. The goat followed. He became more aggressive.
"Stop it! Go back to my boobs, you prick! Better yet--
leave me alone!" Her bloom of sexual hunger had
vanished.
The goat nudged forward, making Laura press against the
tree. Its tongue rolled out and lapped again against
her left nipple and Laura yelled "Stop that! It hurts."
Then its lips curled back and the goat opened his
mouth, bit down hard on the nipple and pain shot all
the way to her back.
"STOP THAT!" Laura screamed.
The goat released her, shook its head, then bit down
again and pulled the bud left and right. Laura bellowed
in pain. Unfazed, the goat stepped backward, digging
for purchase with its front hooves, eyes still locked
on her face. Laura's nipple stretched like a macabre
rubber band until Laura screamed at the top of her
lungs.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Her nipple would tear!
She threw back her head and screamed again, butting the
goat with her knees. She couldn't feel the impact but
the pain in her joints was enormous. She screamed
again.
Her nipple would tear! It had to tear!
Nothing could hurt this much and not tear away!
Her left breast stretched to twice its length, and
every tendon, every muscle stood out on her face and
neck in purple relief. One more tug, one more hard
bite, and her nipple was gone.
And then the other?
Laura seriously believed she'd never see the sunset.
Suddenly the pain stopped and though Laura's eyes were
clamped shut, battened down like steel hatches, she
knew her nipple was gone. It had to be, a tasty morsel
now in the goat's stomach. She rocked back and forth in
terror, knowing it wanted more, but a noise sounded to
her right. Slowly she became aware the goat was mewing.
She opened her eyes.
The goat crouched two feet away, belligerent but
fearful, staring hard into the brush. It had not bitten
her nipple off.
The noise came again, a low threatening rumble, and the
goat dropped lower to the ground. It scratched a hoof,
looked hastily back and forth, considering escape.
Another noise, a rustling of branches, and then a loud
threatening snap. Something nudged her opposite
shoulder.
Laura screamed, found herself staring up the nose of
another goat. A much bigger goat. A billygoat. "Oh,
no," she wailed.
Looking obstinate, the second animal nipped the first,
then butted it solidly on the neck. The smaller goat
brayed and backed away, confused and defiant. It
snorted and shook its head. The larger goat snorted
back, twice as loud, and advanced. Obviously the alpha
male.
"Oh, no!" Laura moaned. Then she saw the goat's
erection.
Hooked upward like a banana--but twice the length of
one--the triangular glans was bulbous, resembling a
snake's head. The whole thing protruded from a matted
sheath between the goat's legs. It swayed ominously.
Had she caused that?
While the smaller goat held its ground, the big goat
chose to ignore it, nipping casually at Laura's
shoulder. Laura twisted away. The goat thrust his long
tongue into her armpit, tasting the salt content there,
recoiled slightly from an unexpected taste. Her
deodorant, she thought. Good! But the goat enjoyed the
skin beneath her arm, and worked it in big swaths up
and down. He nipped her again with his blunt teeth,
making Laura leap.
This goat liked to bite!
She swatted its muzzle with her head, but he continued
to lick, gradually working his way around her biceps
and up to her shoulder. Then the side of her neck. He
nipped her there and Laura recoiled.
"Dammit! Cut that out!"
The goat nipped her again and she screamed around the
rock, swishing her hair back and forth wildly.
Momentarily startled, the goat backed up. Now Laura was
really frightened. Blunt teeth or not, if it took a
good bite and got a vein or artery, she might bleed to
death. When the goat moved forward again, Laura whacked
it hard on the nose with her head, making her ears
ring. The animal grunted loudly and snapped at her
again, barely missing her cheek. Laura screamed a third
time. The goat butted her shoulder, then the side of
her neck, then took another hard nip at her right
shoulder. She jerked her head down, hoping to block his
thrusts. The goat got hair instead. He yanked it hard.
"Owww! Leave that alone!"
She struggled and got her hair free, only to have the
goat swipe the side of her head, sucking up a huge
mouthful again. He started to chew.
"Stop that!"
She twisted away, threatening to pull hair out by the
roots. She fought panic. She pulled again, this time
more slowly, easing it from between the goat's teeth.
They were unaccustomed to anything as fine as hair. A
wet lumpy mass, her hair slapped disgustingly against
her face. At least she could see.
The goat, uncertain whether to try again or go back to
a more fruitful pursuit, snorted.
"Leave me alone! Bastard!"
She bumped its flank with her right knee, trying to
drive it away, succeeded only in making her thigh
scream. The goat snorted, shook its head.
"Go! Get out of here! Eat weeds or something!"
Crack! Crack-crunch!
"Now what!"
She looked for the source of the noise and soon another
goat stepped into the clearing. Then another. Then a
third.
"Oh, God!" she wailed.
What is this?
The nearest farm was five miles down the road, where
she had often saw goats before. But the animals were
behind sturdy barbed-wire fences, and she had never
seen one loose. Until now. Did the goats herd here? Had
they escaped to graze where food was more plentiful? It
was tinder dry. Perhaps the farmer was right there in
the woods, behind a tree, watching his big billy make a
spectacle of her.
"Ow!"
One of the goats stepped on Laura's left foot and she
jerked away, tried lift the foot from the ground. The
best she could do was to point it up. The first goat
nipped at the bandana experimentally, then pulled
aggressively at it for a moment, gave up when the
bandana slipped from its teeth. It nibbled Laura's
curled toes instead. Laura screamed and batted the goat
with her knee, straining her thigh muscles again. She
screamed and the goat stumbled back.
"Leave me alone godammit!" Then a frustrated:
"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!"
She twisted back and forth against the rope, against
the tree, waiting for the next attack. The rest of the
herd edged forward, grouping in a loose semi-circle.
They watched with impenetrable goat-interest. Laura saw
herself as lunch.
"Nnnnnnuuuhhh!"
The goat on her right licked the bottom of her foot,
and extremely ticklish, Laura cringed away. "Stop that!
Stop that right now!" She bucked up and down. "No!
Don't do that. Eeeeee!"
Her foot curled in a capital 'C', firing an extremely
painful new cramp, bending her double. "No-no-no-no!
No-no-no-no! Don't do that!" She fought both the cramp
and the goat's insistent tongue.
Incredibly, she began to laugh.
"Stop it! Stop it! Please!" She laughed even harder, a
maddening laugh, feeling her bladder control slip.
Already over-stretched, it began to gush urine.
"Stop that! Stop! I can't pee my pants!"
The wet spot on her panties grew quickly to the size of
a half-dollar.
"No! Stop!"
The goat continued at her foot and Laura continued to
pee.
"Please!"
Her crotch became soddenly wet, urine flowing until it
came through her panties in a gushing jet, arcing six
or eight inches onto the grass. Laura squealed
helplessly as the closest of the goats lowered its head
and sniffed he grass; two of the others backed away.
She laughed and shut her eyes against the awful sight,
not reopening them until her bladder was empty.
A third goat began sucking her right toes.
"Please! Oh, please! Have some mercy!"
Working its mouth around and slobbering like an old man
with no teeth, the goat made Laura yank back and forth.
The big billy lowered its head, seemed ready to butt
the offending goat, then lowered its snout to her
urine. It sniffed, took an experimental lick, and Laura
thought, miserably, No-no-no-no!
The goat found the taste to his liking. It continued to
lick, working it way back to Laura's panties. Laura
skittered away.
"Come, on. Come on. Give a girl a break." She looked
desperately around. "Please!"
The goat sniffed and bumped Laura curiously, making her
quail, while yet another goat licked the wet grass and
began to move closer. She was going crazy, laughing
even harder, beginning to choke.
Great! Now I'll be eaten by goats!
Then the big goat licked the front of her panties and
Laura wailed crazily, "Nooooooooooooo!" and flailed
back and forth. Not my crotch! she pleaded. Not my
crotch! Oh, God, not my crotch!
The goat nipped the satin between his teeth and gently
tugged, catching Laura's pubic hair. She nearly died.
"Leave me alone," she begged, clutching her freaked-out
mind. It wanted to blast into orbit, carrying with it
her sanity. Another goat thrust its tongue into her
left ear.
"Get away!"
This goat settled for slobbering on her shoulder
Undeterred, the big billy lapped at her crotch,
hunkering down and putting its snout to the ground,
allowing its tongue to lick sideways. Laura scrunched
her eyes. Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God! The
original goat, the one with the delicate pink erection,
returned and began to lap her damaged left nipple--oh,
God it ached--while a fifth took care of the other. I'm
a human udder, she thought crazily. She laughed in
horror while, behind the tree, her bound hands clawed
the bark, splintering her nails. She relinquished her
hold on reality for a moment, let it bound away out of
sight. A stone-crazy old man with cartoon eyes danced
in her head.
"We're gonna do it!" the madman cackled. "We're gonna
do it!
Laura fought back. "We're not doing anything!"
The madman cackled and danced. "Fuck the goats! Fuck
the goats! Open your legs and fuck the goats!"
"I'm not fucking anyone!" she screamed aloud. "Now go
away!"
Her nipples on fire, Laura concentrated on this, using
the pain to banish the madman. "I'm not so weak," she
chanted. "I'm not so weak." She looked straight at the
sky, concentrated on the canopy of leaves, the glimpsed
white clouds. "I can hold on," she whispered. "I can
hold on." Slowly, her sanity returned.
"I can do it! Do it, Laura! Just do it!"
The billy and two of the other goats looked up, yellow
eyes blankly curious. The billy looked around, as
though expecting someone to whom this tied-up one
spoke. No one was there, but that didn't diminish its
worry. It sensed something was wrong.
Laura raised on her heels, straining. The undersides of
her feet were abraded, her back abraded, her palate
abraded, her entire body a quivering wreck. Goats were
everywhere. Despite the pain, a traitorous frenzy had
built in that small dark place inside her crotch--
though she fought heroically against it--and the
incessant licking had Laura panic-aroused. Very
aroused.
"Stop that," she whimpered. "It's not fair. Not fair at
all." Her buttocks tightened and she raised entirely
off the ground, ankles and thighs screaming in protest.
"Noooo!" she wailed. "Leave me alone!"
Could she really being starting an orgasm?
Looking desperately at her crotch, where the big animal
worked her panties with mindless endeavor, hooves
scraping the ground and its huge erection--twelve
inches of thick, angry red--waiting patiently for her
vagina, Laura wailed again, knowing her humanness would
disappear with the goat inside, hating herself for
wanting it.
"Nooooooo!" she pleaded again. "Nooooooo!"
The harder she fought, the stronger her foe became. The
tonguing inflamed her until all that stood between
Laura and sexual inferno was force of will. Then it
became too much. Suddenly she rose high and hard
against the tree, locked in spread-eagled explosion as
an orgasm ripped her apart. "NOOOOOOOOOO!!" she howled,
grinding against the bark. Her thighs spasmed
convulsively and gas rocketed out of her tail.
Laura erupted.
Laura detonated.
Like a star going nova, her mind collapsed onto its
fusing core, then rebounded violently. She jumped
ferociously against the rope, smashing and thumping
against the startled goats, making all but the big one
stumble away. The big billy didn't stop, but worked
Laura's fevered crotch with a mindless greed, lapping
the gushing juice as fast as it came out. She clamped
her eyes and succumbed to complete abandon, humping the
goat's snout, not caring about muscles or pain or
anything else. Tendons, which ached for weeks
afterward, strained beneath her skin like pleated cords
and her tummy--hard as tempered steel and thrumming
like a dynamo--convulsed with need. Her vagina clutched
a cock that wasn't there; her ass bounced hard on the
ground.
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!"
she screamed and the goat bellowed and Laura bellowed
and both of them bellowed.
Her star went supernova.
Chapter 3
Laura awoke.
"Whaaa?" An incoherent mumble.
She looked around. Her head spun and her mouth
throbbed--every muscle felt ruptured.
"Don't," she muttered, fighting to stay conscious.
"Stop it."
Eventually, the light returned and Laura opened her
eyes. The goats were still there, half of them staring
at her blank-eyed, the big one included, which stood
with its head canted to one side. Others grazed
unconcernedly around the clearing. She moaned and the
big goat stirred.
She had passed out.
Oh-God, Oh-God, Oh-God, she thought. She hadn't really
gotten off with a goat? No-oh-no-oh-no!
Her eyes half-lidded, Laura looked from one goat to the
next, then lowered her head and cried. Not goats,
please...not goats. "God will kill me," she whimpered.
"Please, God, forgive me!"
The sunlight had a mid-afternoon slant and felt good on
her bare breasts, also the soft breeze. Her
thunderstorm of hair, bunched mainly over her right
eye, allowed Laura to keep tabs on the small herd. As
well as she could, she took stock. Her panties were
soaked--both with urine and vaginal discharge--and
stuck disgustingly to her crotch. A trickle of warm goo
slid between her open buttocks, settling even more
disgustingly on her exposed anus. More had dried in her
soft down of hair. Her thighs were broken sheets of
glass.
The goats stirred.
Laura looked up. Two or three looked warily about, as
though catching a scent; maybe something in the trees.
The big billy alternately hoofed the ground and
snorted, shaking its grizzled head. Laura looked again.
"Ayeyow?" Hello?
"Eh-ee-uhn-ehre?" Anyone there?
No answer came back and eventually, the goats relaxed.
The big one, in fact, came back and sniffed her crotch.
"No more," she begged. "Please." The goat stretched his
neck and gave Laura a moderately hard nudge. "Why are
you doing this?" she cried, swinging at it with her
knee. The billy snorted and nudged her again.
No! Please make him stop!
The goat nudged her again.
"Leave me alone," she whimpered, squirming away. She
yanked at the rope, raised her buttocks and tried to
figure how protect herself. There was no way. Low to
the ground, the goat's snout thumped her again and
Laura cried: "OWWWW!"
Catching her panties between his teeth, the goat
pulled. Laura keened, choking on the rock. She forced
her jaws wide open to scream, "Stop that! You're
hurting me!" and shook her head back and forth. It
wasn't just her panties he had. The wedge of pubic hair
above her clitoris was firmly in the billy's grasp
(Laura was otherwise shaven clean for swimsuit season
and wished now she had shaved it all), and the goat now
threatened to pull it out. "Owwww!" she wailed. "Stop
it!"
The billy pulled again.
"Stoooooooooop!"
She tried to box the billy's head between her legs but
failed.
"Stop it! Go away! Please!"
The goat released her and canted its head, took a
bigger bite, this time catching her labia. Laura sucked
air.
"No-no-no-no! Oh no, please!"
She skittered sideways, stretching her tender lips, a
biting pain shooting through her groin and into her
tummy. She jerked convulsively and her lips came free
and, wailing uncontrollably, she slid further away. It
did no good. The goat clamped firmly onto her panties
and pulled with a hard snap.
This time she couldn't scream. Her teeth were clamped
to the rock.
No-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no! The words rang in her
head. Please no!
Then the billy shook its head and whatever hair had not
torn away before now did. Laura screamed again and
banged against the trunk, ripping her sundress to
shreds. A second goat moved in and attempted to join
the billy at her crotch, but the billy bellowed and bit
it hard on the neck. The smaller goat floundered away,
its left front hoof catching between Laura's leg and
hip. Panicked, the goat stagger-stepped sideways and
bolts of pain ripped through her thigh. She screamed
around the rock, blasting saliva into her hair.
"Ungh-ungh-ungh!" she howled. The pain was monumental.
"Nunnnngggggg!"
The trapped hoof ground lower, down to the right, the
split toe biting in just above her clitoris. One hard
jab and her clitoris was gone. But the goat found
footing and lurched back, tearing itself loose and,
followed by the billy's angered cries, darted into the
underbrush. The big billy emitted one final bray, then
returned his attention to Laura.
"Please!" Laura whimpered. "Leave me alone."
A bright weal lay on her left thigh, and blood stained
a V-shaped tear in her panties. Frightening, but the
bleeding seemed not too bad. She looked at the billy,
stark with fear and trembling all over. Alert, the
billy making ticking movements with its head. It eyed
her. Its erection skimmed the ground, huge and
threatening, a milky white substance leaking from the
tip.
"Please!" Laura repeated. "Leave me alone."
Moving forward, nostrils flared, the goat butted her
crotch. It reclaimed her wet panties and Laura gasped
as teeth first caught, then lost her labia, then
scuttled sideways away. It did no good. The material
was yanked viciously outward, her hair with it, taking
the whole front of her panties as well as the hair
beneath. Laura shrieked and wildly bucked, and when she
looked down, only the waistband of her panties
remained. Her labia were exposed, the tiny pearl-like
clitoris just visible in its collar of flesh. If the
goat bit there, she was ruined for life. The goat
licked her.
"No!" she wailed, lifting clear of the ground. "Please,
no!"
Wedging his tongue between her hairless lips, parting
them roughly, the goat found her tender vagina. It
flicked in its tongue and Laura bucked hard and wailed,
rolling her head over the bark. She climbed higher,
digging her fingernails into her palms, unaware she was
aiding, rather than hindering, the goat. The goat
licked her again.
"No-no-no-no-no-no!" she wailed.
The rough tongue flicked over her vaginal opening and
again inside, deeper this time, then traversed her
entire labia.
"No-no-no-no-no-no!" she howled.
Then he licked her anus to clitoris, and Laura began to
weep. She poured out tears. She pressed hard against
the tree, further ripping her dress. She felt a growing
crescendo.
"Ohhhh, pleeeasssse!" she screamed. "Nooooooooooooooo!"
Suddenly the goat turned sideways, working its tongue
deeper, scraping the delicate walls free of ejaculate.
Laura's eyes became large as plates and, as the tongue
probed deeper, filling her entire vagina to the point
of rupture, she rotated in torment, every nerve firing
pain.
"No-no-no-no-no-no!" she screamed again, now a
desperate prayer. She shuddered and bucked and the only
relief came by forcing herself wider, canting upward,
effectively making her vagina an open pit. The tongue
worked her cervix and she felt her uterus compress, the
cervical dome pushed back until all elasticity in her
vagina was gone.
Laura crossed a threshold.
Replaced by a grim, masochistic glee, agony faded and
Laura began to counter the goat's movement, its thrusts
parried by thrusts of her own. Her orgasm built and as
she continued to weep--softly at first, then with a
growing intensity as tears spilled down her face onto
her thrust-forward chest--saliva joined the tears and
formed again into long ropey strings. Unable to stop,
she began coming in powerful long cramps, the tongue
gripped by her spasming walls. The goat worked even
harder, grunting and scraping the ground, mashing its
teeth against her delicate lips. Like an atomic bloom
in slow motion, Laura's climax grew, until no sound was
louder than the blood in her head. Then, like the demon
she knew it was, the goat was against her chest, hot
breath baking her left ear. It thrust its powerful hips
forward and Laura thrust back.
The first attempt missed. The huge tip dug upward along
her belly, planting in her navel instead. Laura
shuddered violently. The second thrust caught in the
folded cowl surrounding her clitoris, and a terrible
pain exploded there before the head broke free. It rode
up her belly again, planting again in her navel. This
time she shrieked.
When the final thrust came, some part of Laura's mind
forced forward her pelvis, canting it downward,
trapping the head in the mouth of her vagina. She
thrust onto the shaft with impossible need, the million
year old part of her brain in charge. "Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-
oh!" she wailed.
Braying madly, the goat shuddered forward, filling her
raw canal, making Laura suck air like a diesel engine.
Her orgasm exploded.
"Gaa, aaaa-aaaa-aaaa-aaaa!"
Laura pumped against the huge cock.
"Mnnnum-umm-umm-umm, mmnumm-umm-umm!"
Laura clamped the goat's snout between her cheek and
left shoulder and didn't let go. The erection slammed
in and out.
"Ungh-ungh-ungh-nahhh, ahhh-ahhh-ahhh!" she wailed.
The goat bottomed her out, twelve inches deep, ensuring
a blood storm of agony the next day. The cervix held
but the bruising on it's dome turned the pink tissue a
brutal red.
"Nuuhhh-unhhh-unhhh-unhhh!"
Laura twisted in wild gyrations as the goat finally
came, and gout after gout of semen blasted her cervix.
The goat bucked madly forward, ripping loose mouthfuls
of bark, spitting them into Laura's hair.
"Nuuugunggggaaaaaaaaaa!" she bellowed.
Twin nuclear explosions burst in her brain and her gut,
and sperm, hot as a blowtorch and in huge amounts,
engorged her and demanded escape. It sprayed out around
the shaft, drenching both her and the goat, a tidal
wave washing over her ass and her bulging anus. Sucking
spasmodically, the small opening entrapped the goat's
sperm, ensuring a bout of intestinal misfortune.
Laura screamed one last time and then was gone.
Chapter 4
Time passed. Maybe an hour.
Laura stirred, almost awakened. She dreamed of the
circus. She dreamed of talking goats. She dreamed of
boys.
Exhausted from its prize, the goat disconnected from
the young girl and staggered away. It nearly fell off
its feet. After a time it sniffed the girl's dangling
head, nipped lightly at her cheek, decided the sow was
asleep. It sat down, regarding its deflated penis. It
licked itself, savoring the foreign, oh-so-rich taste.
Something had happened, something incredible. Something
dangerous. Its goat's mind understood this, understood
the sudden and powerful presence was now gone--watching
from afar, more the truth--but leaving him back in
control of his own behavior. He was afraid.
His name was Gramp's, the name given him by the farmer
when the goat turned two. Even then he was bigger than
the other males, combative and bellicose; very soon he
took over the herd. Now twelve years old, the oldest
and still the meanest goat around, Gramps never before
had experienced a human sow. Not like this.
She was one of the feeder class, omnipresent,
troublesome, never before seen in sexual terms. The
juice of this female--Gramps sensed the sex of all
species on the mountain--was definitely the best he
ever had. In fact, had the need to rut not come over
him so overwhelmingly, even now he would be lapping her
pouch. His tongue ached with her taste. Actually, it
just ached.
Gramps goat-sighed, struggled to his feet, and took
stock of things. The sow was filled with seed, and no
goat stomached his own seed. He looked around at the
scattered herd--his two male contenders eyed him warily
back--and wondered if sticking around was safe.
Previous experience told him no. Planted seed took days
to absorb, and how fast it would go with a feeder he
didn't know. Besides, planting seed in a feeder sow
might be a thoroughly bad idea. Females were
unpredictable. And sooner or later a male would turn up
in search. Worse, the presence might reestablish
itself, might again take control, and decide this sow
needed more.
Better not to stick around.
Gathering up scraps of the sow's panties, Gramps
wandered into the bushes, chewing the tasty material
with fond remembrance. As it left, the presence
withdrew from the goat's mind completely, returned to
its own, and those memories faded quickly, leaving the
goat's mind like droplets of water down a drain. Soon
it remembered nothing: Of the encounter, or of the
presence. Gramp's disappeared from sight and the others
with it.
Eyes watchful, body unnaturally still, the presence
observed the departing herd from its bulwark in the
opposite trees. None of the goats paid him heed;
indeed, they seemed unaware of his presence. Eventually
the woods became still.
For some minutes nothing happened, then, stepping into
the clearing, the dog that wasn't a dog crossed the ten
yards to Laura's open legs, inclined its head and
sniffed. It snorted, licked her once, the scraped the
ground with its paw. It sat down to wait.
Chapter 5
Laura awoke slowly.
Her arms were slabs of wood, her legs deadened stumps,
her insides sandblasted desert. She looked around with
eyes barely slitted, but no goats remained. No nothing.
A few pubic hairs littered the ground, a thread or two
from panties, but that was all. That was not all. A
gross pool of white something was beneath her.
She sat in it.
She didn't care.
This was a dream.
She wasn't tied to a tree.
She wasn't leaking sperm.
She hadn't been violated, fouled in the most awful way.
She sighed and closed her eyes.
Then why did she ache so?
Laura looked down. Distended and raw, her nipples
protruded like acorns. Her left nipple was twice the
size of the right. The surrounding flesh was florid and
raw, covered with dried saliva. Her groin she ignored.
Better not to think of that.
She shifted against the tree but could feel neither her
arms nor wrists. Her feet were flagstones. The drooling
had stopped, but the stone in her mouth was the size of
a car.
A noise sounded to her left and Laura looked to find a
dog.
There was a white band around its head.
It was Tonto.
"Ohh, Gaa," she said. "Oh, God."
Penetrating the tree line with the forward part of its
body, the dog was huge and black, a mixed breed
containing strong traits of both pointer and German
Sheppard. It's weight had to be over one hundred and
fifty pounds. Large white canines--fangs really--graced
the big mouth.
Laura didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified.
"Eeerrree?" Here?
Beckon it? Was she crazy?
The dog moved quietly into the clearing, tail against
the ground, its big head low. Its eyes narrowed in
suspicion, and though it kept watch in all directions,
it made no sound.
Laura breathed heavily through her nose, back hard
against the tree, praying for mercy. The dog, closer
now and intent on her examination, was either the
largest, most beautiful animal Laura had ever seen--or
the most dangerous.
"Errr-own-urrr-eeee-iiii?" You won't hurt me, right?
Tonto stopped. It growled deeply and Laura pressed
harder against the tree. Her head turned involuntarily
away, eyes squeezing shut. It took everything not to
keen.
The dog grunted.
Laura cracked an eyelid.
"Good doggie?"
The dog shook its head and changed to a slightly less
threatening stance. Maybe it intended to wait before it
ate her. It took another step forward.
"I can't hurt you," she said. "You know that, right?"
The dog raised its snout and sniffed. "I'm like, the
last person in the world you have to worry about." She
thought how totally nuts this was. "Get me out of this
and I'll give you anything you want." I'll even fuck
you, she thought.
Then, around the stone and through the red bandana, she
said it.
The dog's eyes narrowed. It effected a noise made
famous by Tim Allen on Home Improvements.
Yes?
For one absurd moment Laura believed he understood.
Then the dog sat down at her feet--in her present
position, this placed his snout right at her breasts--
and began to pant. Laura relaxed--half an iota.
"Where's your master?" she asked. "Is he over there?"
She indicated the trees opposite.
Tonto looked momentarily back, then resumed his loud
panting. He wagged his head.
"No? Where then?"
Tonto sat and panted. His white teeth glistened, and
his black fur glowed with health. He really was a
beautiful animal. Probably no more than a year old. The
kind of pet Laura had wanted for years and was always
refused. She had a Toy Poodle named Pierre.
Tonto rose and walked around the trunk, sniffed
casually at her right foot. Laura wiggled her toes.
"That wasn't an invitation," she said, remembering the
slobbering goat.
His black eyes glittered with intelligence--they seemed
almost to speak--seemingly a depthless black. He poked
the underside of her foot, then sniffed curiously at
her privates. He nosed her open labia. Laura kept
still. Then he sniffed along the inside of her left
thigh, then her right, poked his snout into the taut
muscle. Laura jumped.
"Hurts," she said.
Then he licked her crotch and Laura closed her eyes.
"Please God. I'll do whatever you want. Just get me out
of this." She looked at the dog. "I meant it about
fucking you," she said. She was so in touch with her
animal self that communication seemed possible, even
certain. "The goat fucked me, and I lived through that.
Dogs and human females do it all the time. Right now
I'm in no position to say no." She paused to see if she
was getting through. He listened with quiet intensity,
eyes impenetrably black.
Was she slipping her moorings?
"Bark if you understand."
Tonto nodded.
"Was that a yes?"
He nodded again.
"Jesus," she laughed. This was impossible. "I'll do
anything you want," she begged. "I'll fuck you, I'll
suck your dick. But I would rather do it with my arms
and legs free. Can you help?"
She knew a part of herself was seriously bent, if not
torn loose. There was no insincerity in her thoughts,
no deceit. This was her last best chance to get loose
from this tree, and any bargain with this animal was in
good faith.
She bent forward her head.
"Undo the bandana, okay?"
The dog moved its snout behind her left ear and sniffed
the knot. It bit down experimentally.
"You have to work it loose," she said. "Don't worry
about hurting me."
Tonto rose and planted his front paws either side of
Laura's hips, stepped in right against her. His penis
was semi-erect, dangling in plain sight, and Laura felt
heat and power coursing throughout his frame. He was,
she knew, taller on two feet than she.
Tonto took hold of the knot and, growling softly,
worked it back and forth. The bandana worked down over
her ear and, suddenly came loose, falling partially off
her lips. "Uhnnn!" she cried excitedly. The knot
shifted again and the bandana came lower still, and
then it fell around her neck.
She yelled triumphantly, shouting around the stone,
spittle flying out. "You thid it!" she screamed. "You
thid it!" She forced the rock out between her teeth and
let it fall--painfully against her belly--and the dog
licked her mouth and she licked him right back.
"Thank you!" she cried. "Thank you so goddamned much!"
They licked each other more. "Good doggie! Good boy!
You are the bestest doggie in the whole wide world!"
Tonto's penis, fully out of the sheath now and ten
inches long, slapped wetly against her thighs. Nothing
ever sounded so good. "I love you," she said. "I love
you-I love you-I love you." She placed her mouth
against the tip of his snout and gave battle to his
tongue. Though intense, the battle was rather one-
sided.
"Here!" she said, shaking her left shoulder and
indicating behind the tree with her head. "Can you get
the knot? Holding my hands?" Tonto stopped licking and
danced back and forth. "The knot, Tonto," she said.
"Behind the tree."
But her eyes were fixed on another knot entirely, the
one between his legs. Dangling twelve inches long from
the sheath (it had grown?) his penis was huge and
reddish-blue, encircled with fiery scarlet veins. A
large bulbous knot--which she erroneously mistook for
his scrotum--protruded from the shaft right atop the
sheath. There was no "head" like the penis of a man,
but a blunt end with an enormous crested hole. The
thickness swelled in the middle to three inches or
more, tapering only slightly at the tip. Hot and angry,
it thudded with his heartbeat.
"Oh my God, Tonto," she whispered. "What is that?"
Skip-stepping with excitement, Tonto first licked her
face, then disappeared behind the tree. The rope pulled
taut and began to jerk. Tonto growled loudly.
"You getting it boy?" Laura prayed. "Please! Please get
it loose."
She groaned as the rope pulled her shoulders against
the tree, coughed loudly with one especially hard yank.
Tonto came back around.
"No," she said, tears pouring down her face. "I'm okay.
Get me loose."
Tonto shook his head, growled once, savagely licked her
cheeks.
"I'm okay, really." She licked him savagely back.
"Please, just hurry."
Tonto scampered away and resumed his efforts and Laura
fantasized what moving her arms would be like. She felt
nothing past her shoulders. Her thighs were petrified
wood. She wondered if she'd ever walk again.
"Having any luck, boy?" she called. The dog's
ministrations had increased both in volume and
ferocity, but the rope was just as tight. She became
afraid. "Come on, boy! You can do it! I know you can!"
The dog barked in frustration.
Maybe I won't get loose at all, she thought. Maybe I'll
hang here and die.
"Don't give up," she begged, beginning to sob. "I know
you can do it. Please, Tonto, Please! I need to get out
of here!"
Tonto's growls become snarls of anger, then rage. His
teeth broke loose after one particularly hard yank, and
he yelped with machine gun-like fury. He stomped around
to Laura, panting madly and barked again.
Laura screamed, "I want to get loose!" her frustration
too much to bare. Tonto came forward and scrubbed her
face, whined against her shoulder. "I know," Laura
sobbed. "I know. God hates me."
With an expression of desperation, the dog grabbed the
bandana around Laura's left foot and attacked it with
fury. Her defenseless skin was gouged and when she
keened in pain, he moved to the length between ankle
and thigh. He rip-sawed the material and in seconds,
shredded, the bandana came apart.
"Yes!" Laura screamed, kicking her leg free--or trying
to. "You did it! You really did it!" Her leg fell dead
to the ground. "Oh, no," she whimpered, knowing what
came next. "It's okay," she reassured the dog, backing
against the tree.
Tonto looked on, anxiously.
The tingling began in her hip, spread outward to the
thigh, finally all the way down to her knee. She
grimaced in pain. She gasped, clenching her teeth. "Oh,
my God! Oh, my God!" she hissed, as the tingling became
a thousand hot needles--a million hot needles--burning
right down to her toes.
"Noooo! Oh, no! Oh, no!" She moved the leg back and
forth, bent and lifted it high in the air. It did no
good. "No, no, no, no, no," she wailed. The pain was so
great it made her laugh. This was hysterically funny!
Tonto danced back and forth, barking.
"I got it," she said. "I got it. Under control." Tears
poured down both cheeks. "What about the other one?"
she pleaded. She wagged her right knee. "Can you get
it?"
Tonto attacked the rope. Looped twice around her ankle
and twice around her thigh, there was little accessible
cord. Canines tore into her flesh.
"I don't care!" Laura cried. "Just get it off."
His teeth broke loose and Tonto staggered back, then
went sideways for a better grip. Growling ferociously,
his rear end thrashing back and forth, Tonto tore
frantically at the rope, rip-sawing as he had with the
bandana. It required a full two minutes before the
nylon frayed.
"That's it!" she cried. "Tear that rope up!"
Tonto growled with renewed fervor, rolling his eyes
back to see Laura. Laura continued to cheer.
"Atta-boy! Good dog! Good Tonto!" A bolt of excitement
flew through her belly and her chest--she was going to
get free! "You get that rope off my leg, Tonto. You get
me free and I'll give you the best fuck you've ever
had!" She bent in futile effort to kiss his back.
"Fuck! I want to fuck you right now!"
Tonto tore at the rope with frenzy.
"Go, Tonto! Go!"
One of the braided strands severed and Laura screamed.
"Keep going, boy! Tear it up!"
The rope came apart, strand by strand, and Tonto
attacked the remainder with such fervor that his teeth
tore away bark. A hole developed under the rope and his
muzzle went into the void, allowing him to rip it side
to side. Another strand break, then suddenly Tonto gave
a final violent lurch, and his snout came away free.
She was loose! She was fucking loose!
Laura screamed, stamping her left foot. "You did it!
You fucking did it!" Tonto jumped back and forth,
barking furiously and Laura screamed, "You fucking
rope! You goddamn fucking rope!"
Tonto bounded backward and up and down, barking
proudly. He shook and waggled his head. He pranced in a
circle.
"You are so good, Tonto! You are so unbelievably good!"
Laura furrowed her heel into the ground, screwing her
face against the pain. She lay the leg flat out.
Jabbing needles ran from hip to knee but Laura only
laughed. "Fuck it!" she yelled. "It feels good! It
feels so fucking good!" Still prancing back and forth,
Tonto barked.
"Come here," she said, pulling forward. "Come here and
get a kiss."
Tonto jumped forward, eyes bright with exhilaration. He
barked again.
"Yes, my big handsome rescuer," she said, snuggling him
with her mouth. "Get your sugar." They joined, muzzle
to lips, exchanging joyous licks. Laura's face soon
became lathered.
"Want some real sugar?" Laura exclaimed.
Tonto barked and laughing, Laura put her left leg over
his hindquarters, pulled him forward and down. She got
her mouth completely into his muzzle. He went all the
way into her throat. Choking, she pulled away and
couched loudly.
Am I really doing this? Fire seared her belly and she
mentally cried: I am! I am! I am fucking a dog!
Tonto licked her shoulder, the side of her neck, her
left cheek.
"I want you, Tonto! I want you real bad!"
Breathing hard, she scooted forward on the grass,
raised her barely functioning right leg over Tonto's
back and crossed her ankles. She maneuvered them over
his rear end and hung from his hips. Tonto easily bore
her weight.
"You have to help," she panted. She hadn't clue what to
do.
Tonto lowered into a crouch, licked Laura all over the
chest and neck, moved his hindquarters in closer. While
they exchanged kisses, Laura managed a look under his
chest and saw her waiting prize. It was unbelievably
huge.
"Don't hurt me," she whispered, knowing he would. The
goat was diminutive, compared.
Her pelvis came forward and up, seeking his cock; Tonto
thrust downward. Something heavy, hot and large hit
Laura on the belly and she cried, "Oh, my God!" looking
under him again. The head lay just above her clitoris.
"Down a little," she breathed into his left ear. His
breath was a blowtorch on her left shoulder. He lowered
himself and the thick cock moved over her clitoris and
breath locked in Laura's chest. "A little lower," she
whispered, unsure she wanted him to move. Cupped in his
opening, her clitoris felt very good. Very, very good.
It thrummed and sang. Understanding she needed him more
inside, she canted upward and found the club-headed end
of his cock, captured it with her vagina. She took it
all the way in. She shuddered deeply. She worked up the
shaft.
"Oh, please," she begged. "Fuck me!" The effort was
torture on her arms. "Please hurry, Tonto!"
Burdened by her weight, Tonto bucked forward
ungracefully, unable not to hurt her. Laura gasped in
pain, clenching off a scream. "It's okay!" she panted,
feeling his alarm. "I'm fine."
She was anything but.
Biting her lower lip, she spread to her maximum and
came up and forward on his cock. Both the pain and the
elation were great. Talk about rapture, she thought.
She coaxed him in, filling her vagina completely, and
cried: "That's it! That's it!" as her eyes and teeth
clamped shut ."Just like that," she said.
Tonto established a rhythm, and Laura rode; within
moments they copulated like ancient lovers.
"I'm gonna come!" she whispered, disbelieving how
quickly it came. Her face expressed wonder and a
growing certainty that her lover, whatever he was, was
not just a dog. She felt his presence equally in both
her mind and her vagina.
Tightening her grip on Tonto's rump, Laura drew the dog
downward and in. She exhaled pain. "Jesus! Jesus-Jesus-
Jesus!" she cried, clamping Tonto's head between her
jaw and shoulder as she had the goats. She refused to
let go. "Don't stop, Tonto! Don't stop! Please don't
stop!"
Tonto slammed in and out and Laura chanted, "I love
you-I love you-I love you!" in a furious prayer,
punctuated by, "Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!" until the
pitch of their lovemaking grew so frenetic that Laura
drove upward as hard as Tonto drove down. Her words
disappeared into a continuous high pitched wail.
Driven by the intensity of Laura's need, Tonto exploded
in orgasm, engorging her vagina with sperm. It blew out
as fast as it blew in and again Laura's rear end and
anus were soaked. Tonto fucked her madly and up and up
she went, until the earth's surface was a patchwork of
details and beautiful colors and then Laura was beyond
orgasm and she soared out of the atmosphere and right
into space.
Chapter 5
Laura awoke.
"Whaaa?" An incoherent mumble.
She hung low against the tree, legs akimbo, rear end
two feet from the trunk. Tonto lay between her thighs,
legs folded beneath him. His tongue lolled just right
below her crotch.
"What are you doing?" she said. Then, slowly, like a
broaching whale, memory surfaced. "Oh," she whispered.
"Jesus."
She dug in her heels, bark digging clefts into her
back. Her dress, what was left of it, lay bunched in
her lap. The afternoon sun, what was left of it, was
behind her, casting long shadows across the clearing.
Groggily, she said, "What time is it, you think?"
Tonto shook his head.
"Of course you don't know," she said. "How could you?"
She thought of her wrist watch, useless on the other
side of the tree. She looked at the sky. "Five
o'clock?" she said. Tears welled in her eyes, began to
spill over. "I'm never getting out of here, am I?"
Tonto crawled forward, lapped her labia as though in
consolation. It made her feel worse. She lifted her
legs, crossed them above his head and put them down to
his right. She turned sideways. "No more," she said. "I
have to get loose."
Tonto nudged her thigh.
"Have a heart, baby. I'm dying." She feared she
actually was.
Eyes miserable, Tonto tilted his head.
"You understand me, don't you, boy?"
Tonto nodded.
Laura blinked, disconcerted. "Not really," she said.
"You couldn't."
Tonto shook his head, then bobbed it up and down. He
scraped his right paw.
Laura leaned forward. "You understand English?"
This time he barked, scraped the ground twice in quick
succession, barked again. Laura looked at his paw. She
looked at his face.
"You're telling me you understand English?"
Two more quick, agitated swipes and he pranced back and
forth. Laura backed against the tree.
No way!
"No way," she said.
Scrape--scrape.
Laura's mouth fell open. "You can't!"
Again: Scrape--scrape.
"You can?"
Scrape--scrape.
"How? How can that be?" She became animated. "You're
name is Trigger, right?" One scrape and he shook his
head. "Rin-tin-tin?" He barked angrily. "Okay, okay,"
she said. "Tonto!"
A bark and two scrapes of the paw.
The dog understood. Somehow, he could communicate. "Oh,
my God! Oh, my God!" she exclaimed, realizing what that
meant. She leaned forward, her mind frantic. "You can
never tell!" she pleaded. "What we just did!" She
clasped him between her legs. "You won't, will you?
Promise?" Her lungs chugged like a steam locomotive.
"You have to promise me, Tonto! Promise!"
Tonto struggled to get away.
"Tonto! Please!"
He bobbed his head, the lapped her face and neck with
his tongue.
"Thank you!" she exclaimed, exchanging ferocious licks.
"Thank you! Thank you-thank you! Yes--I love you too."
She pulled away. "You know that, right?" She needed
confirmation that she wasn't insane. "I actually love
you?"
Tonto licked her face, between her legs, his paw
scraped twice.
"Come here, boy." She extended her mouth and Tonto
played his tongue into it. They French kissed for a
long time, Laura finally getting the hang of it.
Finally, she leaned back. "Holy, Jesus Christ," she
panted. Then: "Free my hands! The way you did my legs!
Okay?"
Tonto barked furiously and ran behind the tree. He
attacked the rope.
"Don't hurt yourself!" she cried, suddenly alarmed. He
ran back and licked her wildly. "Okay, okay! I believe
you!" He dashed away again.
"I'm going to kill that little Bruce when I find him,"
she called. Tonto barked once. "Will you help me?" He
barked again.
"I could have died out here alone. I probably would
have if you hadn't showed up."
Tonto ran back around, licked her face twice, then
returned to the rope.
"Get me free and I'll take you home and show you what a
bitch girl can really do!"
Tonto came back. He stood between her legs and stared.
"What?" she said. "You don't believe me?"
Very deliberately, very slowly--very deeply--Tonto
licked her groin.
Laura shuddered violently. "Jesus Christ!" she wheezed.
She closed her thighs, but too late--a fire storm had
ignited. "You can't do that," she stuttered." I--I--"
Color burned hotly in her face and also between her
legs. Nothing in her whole life had shocked her like
that. Shaking in every part of her body, Laura reopened
her legs and Tonto licked her again and this time she
moaned loudly. She felt doused with sexual fuel.
Unable to control his lust, Tonto went down on all
fours and began to ferociously lick.
"Jesus! Jesus-Jesus! You can't do that!" A shudder
raced up her spine, shaking even the tree. The shudder
rolled down again. She backed uncontrollably away, legs
spread-eagled, jerking spasmodically. "Stah-ah-ahp
that!" she begged, while at the same time lifting her
rear end. The dog worked her anus to clitoris and back
and Laura wailed, "I-ca-aa-aa-aannt-sta-aa-aa-and-it!
Stoooohhhhppppp!"
Within seconds she rode a tidal wave of orgasm. The
biggest yet. The muscles clutched and unclutched in her
belly, and if she were Xena, the Warrior Princess, the
tree would be ripped from the ground. The wave hit
shore and broke.
"Do me!" she screamed, throwing her pelvis upward and
out until her hip joints threatened to snap. "Do me! Do
me! Do me!"
Tonto leapt to his feet and mounted her with desperate
need.
There was no missing the mark-- Laura's vagina gaped
like a beckoning cave. He plunged in, ramming himself
home and Laura screamed and shook like an earthquake.
"Stop it! Stop it, oh please! STOP!"
Tonto lunged until only the knot remained and started
working on that. The size of a baseball, it continued
to grow, until its size was almost unimaginable. No
human could embrace it without rupturing herself.
"Jesus! Jesus-Jesus-Jesus!" Laura screamed. The knot
was going into her now.
She wanted onto her belly, onto her knees, her ass in
the air, his huge cock pounding her ass. Tonto howled
and Laura howled, and she hammered her pelvis against
him. Twelve inches tore in and out and battered to
failure--her cervix finally gave.
Dilating two full inches, it passed Tonto inside, into
her uterus, and the knot filled her vagina and the pain
was tornado strong.
"NEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" Laura screamed.
Tonto came.
Howling like a maddened wolf, Laura exploded while
shotgun blast-hot sperm blew into her uterus and her
battered flesh screamed. She arched up and up and
pulled Tonto with her, away from the ground and Tonto
rode her madly, testicles pumping sperm, the sperm
blasting back onto them both as Laura screamed again.
Throughout the forest, startled birds shot skyward,
squirrels and groundhogs clambered back to their nests,
while two miles away a black bear jerked its head
upward bounded away in the opposite brush. Four miles
distant, a farmer looked up a from plowing a field,
turned off his tractor and listened.
Too late--the wail had faded to a whisper.
End of Part I
To offer any comments or if you would like a Microsoft
Word or WordPerfect version of this story (a much
better read), please contact me at matt2670@aol.com.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
anyway shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of
the scenarios in this story; should seriously consider
seeking professional help.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 26