Chapter 2: Dog Eat Dog

Through the years, if historians ancient and modern are to be believed, there is hardly a creature--bird, beast or fish--that has not been used for man's sexual gratification.

We have already referred to the Roman arena spectacles, wherein giraffes, leopards, mandrills, bulls and boars were involved in the action. It is also recorded that Roman ladies of that time enjoyed running snakes up their vaginas in the warm weather for a cool, refreshing fuck.

In ancient Egypt both men and women regularly consorted with goats. In the temples, goats were advertised as incarnations of gods, and were specially trained to provide sex-services to worshippers of either sex. Monkeys were also put to sexual use, dog-faced baboons being especially popular. And most intriguing of all, there are reports that some resourceful and highly adventurous Egyptians of the time even managed intercourse with crocodiles.

Chickens and other barnyard fowl have always been popular and are still often used today. Men also have been known to enjoy intercourse with dolphins and sea-cows, and women have found sensual delight in inserting squirming fish up into their jaded quims.

Sheep and calves have most commonly served men down through the years and continue to be most popular with farm boys today, although horses, pigs and chickens still figure prominently in barnyard action. But the most popular bestial partner of all in the modern world undoubtedly is the dog, and especially among city-dwellers to whom he is the only practical animal readily available. Dogs seem to adapt themselves agreeably to sex- relations with humans, serving with either tongue or penis, eagerly cooperative in fucking a human cunt or asshole when offered or slobbering over a honey-smeared prick or pussy.

Women are more likely to favor a dog over all other animals to serve their sex purposes and many an unattached lady keeps a canine lover these days--the perfect partner--always ready--always willing--and always absolutely discreet. A dog will never kiss and tell.

But sometimes the ladies will, as in the following case report.

Case 2

Laura M.

I was married for four years, and for three years and eleven months of that time I was the most miserable mismated wife in the history of matrimony. I'd had my share of affairs before marriage I have to admit, and I'd always thought of myself as a normal heterosexual female that responded with all the proper gasps and twitches when a man made the usual penetrations, but somehow when I settled down into marriage and it became a night-after-night thing, I became a nervous wreck and got so I hated sex completely. I didn't even want that man to touch me anymore for some crazy reason. It was all I could do by superhuman will-power to put up with a wham-bam quick one from him. He didn't know what the hell was wrong with me and I couldn't tell him either, so we just fought and yelled at each other and things went from bad to worse until we wound up hardly even speaking to each other.

If it hadn't been for this girl friend of mine, Vivian, I don't know what I would have done. She lived in the same building and was a decorator. She'd helped me to fix up the apartment when I first moved in and then she went on being helpful in all kinds of ways after that. She spent a lot of time with me during the daytimes, and I told her my sad stories--let her know all about my sex hang-ups and everything that was bugging me about my old man and men in general.

She never had been married herself but she talked as if she knew the rules of the game pretty well. Anyway, she was a lot of comfort to me when my husband finally pulled out for good. I won't say that Vivian and I fell into a lesbian relationship exactly. We didn't go down on each other or anything like that. But we did get pretty huggy and kissy sometimes and I found I was enjoying her holding me and caressing me the way I couldn't stand my husband doing it to me those last couple of years.

But I was getting more and more confused. What the hell was I, anyway? Finally I up and put it to Vivian in plain down-to- earth terms.

"Am I a lesbian or what? I don't really know what I want anymore. I thought it would be a big relief with my husband gone but now I find that I miss him somehow--miss what he could do for me, if you know what I mean. Even though I could hardly stand it when he did, that last year or so. He bugged me so--always expecting his pleasure right on schedule, night after night. Insisting on his 'marital right.' What I need is a nice docile man who's available and ready to go when I want him but never bugs me otherwise--just up and disappears when I don't want him around anymore. Maybe I should hire a gigolo just for one hour or so a week to come in and cool down my passions. Do they have such things?"

Vivian laughed and said, "Let me get this straight. What you would like is a man with a good stiff member who's always up and ready when you say 'go' and then crawls off and lies down in a corner afterwards and stays there with his mouth shut until you whistle for him again."

I laughed too. "You hit it right on the head. But I'm afraid there just ain't no such animal."

"Ha!" she yelled. "You just said the magic word. Animal. The answer to all your problems, honey chile."

"Animal!" I assumed she was kidding. "What do you suggest-- a nice friendly chimpanzee?"

"Hell no," she said. "A chimp is a mean son of a bitch. Worse than a man even. They'll bite the hell out of you, those bastards. A dog is the only animal for a woman. They can do every goddamn thing a man can do for you except soul-kiss, and I can take care of that department for you."

She was good at kissing. That's what had me worried about myself. I enjoyed her expert kisses more than I ever did my husband's or any man's. But what I was missing was the hard root up in the soft shaft. A good stiff prick, to put it bluntly.

But a dog? I still thought she was kidding.

"You're screwed-up and frustrated, right?" Vivian said. "Can't live with a man and can't live without one. A lot of us have that problem. But look at me. Do I seem frustrated? Not for a minute, baby. But did you ever see me dating a man? Forget it--who needs it?"

"Well, maybe you can keep cool just with women," I said. I figured she was giving me a lesbian confession here. "I can't just cut myself off from men though. I'm not programmed that way, I'm afraid."

"Oh, men are fine. I don't knock 'em. Great to talk to-- have dinner with--see a show. But you don't have to let 'em take any liberties. That's when they get possessive and bossy. Keep 'em at arm's length and you got 'em at your mercy. But when you feel that old crotch-fever coming on you and need something up inside there to scratch it where it itches--that's where faithful old ever-ready Bozo steps up and fills the bill for mama."

All of a sudden with a shuddering jolt I realized that this whole thing was serious. I'd seen her walking Bozo a couple of times--Bozo was a gigantic hound she kept in her apartment. Great Dane, or some such thing. I'd never been able to figure before why she wanted to keep such a huge dog in a small city apartment. But now it all came clear. Apparently she had Bozo trained to "scratch her where it itches."

I didn't know what the hell to say. I guess I just gaped at her--thunderstruck. I couldn't believe it.

"Don't look so fucking horrified," she said. "And don't knock something till you've tried it. Come with me, baby. I'm taking over your education right now." She grabbed hold of my arm, "We're going up to my place and I'm going to give you a free home demonstration of the kind of pussy therapy you need. No obligation to buy. But I guarantee it'll put that half-ass husband of yours right out of your mind and give you a whole new outlook on life, sex-wise. You'll be ready and willing to kiss men goodbye and good riddance."

I must have been in some kind of a daze. I don't even remember riding up in the elevator. The next thing I knew, we were in her apartment and big old Bozo was leaping up all over her with his tongue out, sniffing and yipping. He must have been able to smell her intentions. Personally I was scared to death of the goddamn beast. I didn't even like little dogs. It looked like she had him pretty well disciplined though. She yelled at him to quit his messing around and get in the bedroom and he did just what he was told.

I guess I looked as if I was about to faint dead away, so Vivian fixed me a drink, which I really needed at that point, and then she said, "Now, you goddamn prissy-ass Victorian, relax here and breathe deeply until your head clears. I'm going in the bedroom and set the scene for you. When I yell, you come on in and you'll see my free home demonstration of doggy-diddling--the sport of queens."

She left and I could hear sweet-talking and sniffing and rustling around in the bedroom. By now the shock had subsided and I was just burning up with curiosity over the whole thing. It was so fantastic, I couldn't wait to see what she'd be doing with that wild goddamn dog. I still didn't really believe that she'd actually let him--well, my God!

Then she sang out, "Finish your drink, count three, and come on in, baby. Bozo rides again!"

The dog was making a hell of a racket. I could hear him slurping and snuffling as if he was lapping up his dinner-dish. And then I came through the doorway and my eyes popped out. It was even crazier than I'd expected. Vivian had stripped right down to practically nothing--all she had on was her bra and garter-belt. She was sprawled on her back on the bed with about three fat pillows underneath her rear-end, so that her spread crotch was well up in the air where Bozo could get at it. And was he ever at it! He was standing up between her legs, lapping away at her slit with his long tongue, slobbering and drooling all over it. Actually eating her pussy! Can you imagine?

"Oh no!" I said. "You gotta be kidding."

"Pull up a chair, oh thou of little faith," Vivian said. "This is just the beginning. You ain't seen nothing yet."

I couldn't even talk--I was speechless. I sat down beside the bed and couldn't take my eyes off the freaky scene. That wild doggy tongue was going like mad--all up and down her slit and in and out the hollows of her crotch--really lathering her up good.

"Doesn't that tickle?" I said like an idiot. I mean, I didn't know what the hell to say.

She laughed. "You're goddamn right it tickles. That's the whole idea, isn't it?"

"How--how did you get him to--er--do that?" I said. "Did you smear something on you or what?"

"In the beginning I did, to give him the idea of what I wanted. But he caught on fast. He doesn't need any inducements anymore. Now I just lie down like this and spread it and he takes it from there. Ain't it a gas? He gets his reward afterwards-- you'll see."

"I don't believe it," I said. Bozo was really zeroing in now. It was incredible. Right dead-center on her clitoris-- working it over with his tongue just like a human person. I was beginning to get hot myself, just from watching. Vivian wasn't talking anymore. That crazy tongue was starting to get to her. Her mouth was hanging open and her breath was beginning to come hard.

All I could say was, "Wow, wow," over and over. Now the damn tongue was poking up inside actually. Pushing into her like a prick. Her legs were twitching and her ass quivering. And the dog must've been getting excited too, cause he was beginning to drip saliva and he was panting as hard as she was.

Then all of a sudden she let out a whoop and waved her arms in the air. I guess this was the signal for Bozo to cool it with the cunnilingus and really put it to her. And he got the message all right. He raised up his head and barked a couple of times and then he climbed up over her body and gave her face a couple of licks and she kissed him back. Those two were real lovers, I'll tell you. Now I noticed his prick was up by her pussy, in position to do a job of work, just starting to swell up in anticipation of what Bozo knew was coming. Vivian lifted up her legs on both sides of him and stroked his flanks with the insides of her thighs. This was a huge dog, don't forget. The same general proportions as a man. I mean, he really covered her.

She arched her hips upward, aiming her crotch right at his pecker to give him a straight-on target to shoot it. It didn't look like he'd have any trouble ramming it in her from there. Her slit was pretty well lubricated already too slick and glistening wet from the dog's slobbering over it, plus her own juice oozing out from inside.

"Come on, Bozo--come on," she was whispering to him. "Fuck mama, Bozo. Fuck me, boy."

He nudged forward and poked his pecker up between her legs and she wiggled herself a little and pressed up to meet the point of it and put it to the hole. And then with hardly any trouble at all he slipped into the opening of her spread cunt and drove all the way home,

"Go, boy--go!" she hollered out, and he started humping away like crazy.

I had to pinch myself, I swear. There I sat actually watching a decent respectable woman in twentieth century America-- my best friend in the world practically--letting herself be screwed by a Great Dane dog! I thought such things only happened in stag movies or in opium dens in Algeria or some such place.

He was really pounding it into her--wham wham--with his big brown balls whacking up against her ass with every thrust--and Vivian was meeting every push of his with a bump of her own. She was completely out of this world by that time. I don't think she even knew I existed anymore. Her head was lolling back and forth, her eyes rolling in her head, her jaw hanging wide open. The dog was drooling spit down onto her face and neck but she wasn't paying any attention to that. She was practically frothing at the mouth herself.

She grabbed onto Bozo's front paws and lifted them up onto her chest, planting them on top of her boobs, and then she held them there, pressing his hard claws down against her nipples.

I guess she threw an orgasm before he did, the way she was thrashing around and whimpering. I never saw such passion before in my life. But then, I'd never watched another woman get screwed before, by man or animal.

She kept on making these little moaning noises in her throat and the dog started in then sort of squealing himself, as I guess his own orgasm was coming to a head.

But then it was all over all of a sudden. The dog quit his humping and his head sagged down over her face, and she brought her hands up and held onto his body, keeping him in position where he was with his prick still jammed up inside her. She was puffing like she'd run a twenty-six mile marathon and she had to get her breath back before she could speak to me again.

"We have to--we have to wait," she said, "until--the swelling on his prick goes down--before we pull apart."

I didn't exactly get the meaning of that at the time, but she explained afterwards that a dog gets a big puffed-up ball on the middle of his cock when he inserts it into something feminine and starts fucking, and that anchors him inside the cunt, rectum or whatever as if he was riveted there. It only subsides after he shoots his load and goes soft again. If he tried to pull out while the ball was still engorged it would rip the hell out of her cunt and she'd be in big trouble trying to explain her lacerated twat to her family doctor.

That's how dogs manage to get stuck together sometimes when they fuck. The female's cunt clamps down so tight on the base of the male's prick that the blood can't drain off after the orgasm-- the prick stays swollen and the two dogs are clamped together and in big trouble.

I thought it was a funny notion at the time. Little did I know I'd be laughing out the other side of my face later. But Bozo cooled down pretty quick that time and then he backed off from her and she sat up and gave me a big smile. She looked pretty hot and disheveled but very happy apparently.

"Well, how about it? Ever see anything like that at the afternoon bridge club?"

"God no," I said. "I almost don't believe it though. Is it really all that good?"

"Listen--there's only one way to find out for yourself. Get those clothes off, Miss Freeze-ass. It's your turn next."

"Oh, I couldn't do that," I said. "You're used to it and-- and he's used to you. He probably wouldn't do it with me--would he?"

"Are you kidding? He's like any other man. Show him a cunt and he'll fuck it."

"But it--it looks so rough. Doesn't he hurt you?"

"It hurts real good, baby. Hurts in all the right places. You won't believe it till you try it, and afterwards you won't want it any other way. Bozo is 'the spoiler.' The only thing I'm worried about is that after one wild orgasm on the end of that bulbous cock of his you'll want to steal him away from me."

"God, Vivian," I said. "This isn't something I can just jump right into blindly. You've got to realize--you've really bowled me over with the whole thing. I mean--it's not exactly an everyday--oh, Christ, Viv--let me sleep on the idea tonight. Maybe tomorrow. God knows, I need something new in my sex-life, but I'm not so sure this is it."

"Hogwash!" she said. "I know you. If you take time to think about it your prudish nature will scare you out of it. You've got to do it right now, while the juices are flowing. You know damn well you're itching to try it." She was up and at me then, pulling on my dress. "Come on, Laura. Get out of those clothes. You'll thank me forever for this, believe me."

"Okay, okay," I said. "But just the cunnilingus part--okay? Let me see how I like his tongue before I make any further commitments."

"Fair enough," she said. "So get stripped and I'll go get you another drink to loosen your inhibitions. Come on with me, Bozo. Let the lady undress in private."

I laughed. "Thanks. Whatever else happens, at least I can always tell my grandchildren I was once eaten alive by a Great Dane dog."

I peeled down, taking off every stitch. After seeing what a sloppy sucker Bozo was I figured I was better off naked. I didn't want him drooling all over my underwear. So I was stark bare-ass by the time Vivian returned with the drink. Bozo scared hell out of me by making a bee-line for me as soon as he got back in the room.