It is amazing, what the human body is capable of. Given the right set of circumstances, it will adapt to many things. Take Linda for instance. Who would have thought that she would eventually accommodate a horse's cock? Who would have thought that her slight body would be able to allow something the size of her arm to slip into her body and fuck her until it shot copious amounts of Jizz into her and at such force, that it filled her womb and made her belly distend? Who would have thought that she would ever be able to take a fully-grown Rottweiler in the arse and then swallow the whole ten inches of him while sucking down his cum without spilling a drop? If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe it and even now, after watching her do these wondrous feats of human rapaciousness, I still find it difficult to believe.
At sixteen, Linda had been so small in stature. Her tits hadn't begun to fill out much more than pimples that would have looked under developed on a twelve year old. Her snatch had the downy fuzz of a young girl and she was virtually hairless everywhere except her head, which had a shock of carrot coloured and shapeless hair on it. She and I started going out then, but she was so scared of losing her virginity and getting pregnant, that it soon fell flat. We split up and went in different directions. I left home for University, studying law, while Linda went to college and further education. She had always had this affinity with animals so, naturally I suppose, she decided to go into farming, or more particularly, 'Animal Husbandry'. What ever that means. So our spheres of life never crossed. We said our goodbyes and parted friends. That is until we met again.
My career had gone from strength to strength. Rising through the ranks at an unprecedented rate. Luck played a major part in my development. Somehow, the right cases landed at my office doorstep. Prestigious affairs, that carried headlines and created citable rules and precedents for future generations of Lawyers, fell regularly into my lap. Money, which had always been something of a bane as a child because of its scarcity, was now no more than a luxurious hindrance. Having money presents problems, but money can always get you out of it as well. I had married and divorced twice. No children were produced, thankfully. Neither wife managed to get anything from me because I had engineered grounds for divorce, claiming adultery in both cases. The right photo-manipulator and a couple of grand can make some pretty damning evidence.
At thirty-four, I was loose and fancy free. My workload had decreased to a level where I only went to the office once or twice a week, leaving the dross of cases to my employees. I could pick and choose the cases I took on. The background legwork to each case was left to the foot soldiers to do.
It was a Monday when it landed on my desk. I was looking at the Thames through my prestigious office windows. Watching the tourist launches ply their trade, stopping at 'The Tower of London' and 'HMS Belfast' so the Japanese could exercise their camera fingers. A knock on my door broke the reverie.
"I have a Mrs. Reid at the desk Sir". Joanne's voice trickled like running water, she always sounded as if she was smiling and, usually was, I paid her enough. "Says she won't speak to anyone but you. What should I do with her?"
"Do we know her?" I didn't bother with formalities like names and didn't turn.
"Don't think so, but she is pretty persistent and tells me she is an old friend."
I thought for a moment, casting through the Rolodex of my brain to see if I had any Mrs. Reid's lurking in there. I couldn't recall any.
"Get rid of her. Tell her I am busy, in a meeting."
"A meeting of one is it?" A different voice asked of my back. "Hello James, been a long time."
Curiously, I turned on the axis of my heel and observed Joanne trying to hustle out the owner of the voice. Dark glasses hid the eyes of the newcomer and the clothes she wore didn't help at all in her identity. Raven black hair framed a thin face stopping at shoulder length. Her neck and upper arms were bare, supporting a gypsy style blouse that puckered over the tops of breasts that were obviously free of a bra. She removed her glasses and stared back at me.
"Linda?" I recognised the eyes. "Is that you? You look so... different." It sounded lame, but I was thrown by the transformation. I had an instant picture of the thin and underdeveloped body that had been Linda, the last time I saw her. Clothes hung on the picture like old brown trousers on a scarecrow, but now; Armani and Versace were possibly her 'Aide de Couture'. She had filled out in the right places. Not in anyway large, but in a cultured and sophisticated poise that had bearing and confidence as its basis.
"What can I do for you? What are you doing here?". My eyes roamed over her and she registered the fact.
"James, I need you're help." It was a simple statement, but one that carried a note of desperation.
"You don't look like you do. Christ! You look so different, amazing!" I became aware of repeating my self. "You had better come in, please take a seat. Joanne, please bring some refreshments." Joanne asked Linda as she sat in the leather Chesterfield and adjusted her jeans, what she would like. Tea was arranged.
"So, what do you need my help with?" I sat opposite her, drinking in the shape of her body that was hardly hidden in the clinging jeans she wore. Her shoes were overtly Gucci. The logo was not too discreet, advertising the make by a small metal tab on the instep. Her make-up was complimentary to her complexion. The black hair added to her demeanour of wealth and well-being.
"It's a long story James, I would prefer we did this over lunch, but the crux of the matter is I am about to be charged with indecent behaviour as well as lewdness and bestiality. I cannot afford the scandal, much less the publicity or even being found guilty." She blushed prettily as she spoke the words, but her eyes didn't waver for one second. She held me in her gaze and captivated my interest. "I heard you were a hot shot Lawyer and didn't have too many options."
"But these are minor charg..."
"And murder" She interrupted me.
"I think you had better tell me all about it Linda. Let's do lunch and see what's what."
We passed the next hour in my office, chatting about our lives since we had seen each other. I told her of my disasters in the marriage department and gave her a brief synopsis of my sparkling career. Linda told me of her college years, then spending several seasons in Rwanda teaching the locals how to farm and care for animals that largely subsisted on a quarter of the water they needed. She had two books under her belt, both of which had done very well in the limited field of her profession. She was now considered to be one of the leading exponents of Animal Husbandry and was consulted on a worldwide scale.
Later, over lunch at "Ocean" in Albemarle Street, she started to tell me of her less than public life. I listened to her story and continued listening while we walked in Green Park and later in my little Pied de Terre in Chelsea. The story gave a completely different impression of the woman who was telling it.
It all started while Linda was in her second year at college.
I fell in with a group of people who were studying the same course. We did the usual stuff of parties, drugs and sex. I change a lot when I went to college. Somehow, in the middle of all that, we took our finals and I ended up with a degree. I started working with WWW organisation and things looked fine. In so much as, I had an assured future. But it all started to go wrong when I married Roger two years ago. He had been on the same course as me, and we had a thing going for a while.
Roger and I dated. We did the usually stuff, did the usually haunts and screwed each other silly. I fell in love with him and thought I would never be able to live without him. How wrong could I have been? Now, he is dead and I am likely to be charged with his murder. But, I am getting ahead of myself...
It was at yet another party that it all happened. As I said, we were in our second year and things were pretty crazy in those days.
I had been drinking on and off all day, by the evening, I was well tanked and out of it. Johnny was the host for a change. He had a large flat in Camberwell. The music was loud, it always was and I felt pretty cool. Someone came up with some grass and that was really that. I get out of control on Skunk and this was good gear.
I took of most of my clothes, nothing unusual about that, we all did, and I was getting pretty engrossed with someone. You know, tongues and fondling. I was still very small then and it was always a joke when someone said, get yer tits out, Oh! You have. Didn't notice. I didn't mind because it was funny, most of the time.
Anyway, I was getting down and dirty, so to speak. Then it was time to drag him upstairs. I screwed the guy, can't remember his mane, but I screwed him senseless because he flaked out and I returned to the party. I remember that it was in the middle of a discussion when I came into the living room. The rest that had stayed awake were discussing the aptitude of animals to training. I said that it was possible to get a dog to do anything if it was trained or coaxed right. What's more, I would prove it. I ordered someone to find a dog, any old dog, even one off the street.
.... There is more of this story ...