Chapter 1

“ ... thank you very much ... yes, it’ll be delivered next week ... goodbye.”

I broke the connection and bent over my order pad and began to populate the form. As I did so I was aware of chairs scraping the other side of the partition beside the table at which I was sitting. I’m a sales rep, and a bloody good one, better than most of the men I’m up against. At that moment I was in my favourite supermarket cafe with my breakfast coffee. Strike that, I don’t really have a favourite, this one was convenient. I had no more than filled in the customer’s name and address when the conversation the other side of the partition attracted my attention.

“Than you so much for lending me Doofus, Jo,” said the first female voice.

“It was a pleasure, Rach,” replied the second.

“Oh it was certainly that!”

Hmm. What could that mean I wondered. Husband swap? I mean Doofus sounds about right.

“He’s very good isn’t he? Real stamina. Much better than Al.” Number two, Jo, continued with a chuckle.

“I don’t know about your Alan, but Derek is bloody useless by comparison. And the walk after was really enjoyable, he sniffed everything.” Rach replied.

My mind was now turning at full speed. I knew what it sounded like but ... this was a public place. I realised that they couldn’t see me, and had probably not noticed me when they arrived because I was bent over my order pad. There were only a few other customers at this time, and they were well out of earshot. Immediately getting people’s names, by the way, is part of my success as a sales rep, so I remembered these almost automatically.

“I really ought to get one myself,” Rach went on. “It would be good for Derek to take for a walk, heaven knows he needs the exercise, and then I could have some exercise when he’s at work.” She giggled.

“You need to go to the pet rescue place, They’ve always got some good ones.”

I was now fairly certain I knew what they were talking about. No, let’s be honest I was quite certain, they were hardly talking in code! Their conversation went on to other more mundane things, children, holidays and that kind of thing. I decided it was time to go, I could fill the order form it at lunchtime. I pushed my chair back and stood up. On the other side of the partition I could see two attractive women, one blonde and the other brunette, both about thirty, maybe a year or so older than me. They looked at me and what I can only describe as a look of horror spread across their faces. I smiled, winked, and walked out wondering if they had spare knickers in their handbags.

I spent the rest of the day pursuing orders, successfully I might add, I said I’m good, and I like the money, and gave the overheard conversation little thought.

I arrived home at about my usual time. This varies according to where my last call has been, but not by too much. Home is a cottage in a village not too far from the town where the supermarket is. I settled down for a quiet evening, changed, prepared and then ate my supper whilst watching the evening news. This is just habit really, there is rarely anything of great interest, mainly members of parliament doing things they shouldn’t be doing and lying about them, and my mind wandered off to review the day. And then that conversation. I refilled my glass and made my way to the bedroom that I use as an office, fired up my computer and checked some of the people I normally follow.

And then, well I just had to, Google, what do you know about doggy sex. Nothing. I should have known better, it’s Google. We don’t do sex we’re, umm, Google, what the hell did you expect? Is it run by evangelical Christians? Certainly seems like it. And so to Firefox.

Until my experience eighteen months ago, which I’ll come to, like everyone I had heard of sex with dogs, but were the mechanics of dog anatomy similar to men? Oh yes, I’d read one or two stories on line, but were these accounts of experience? On balance I thought they were most likely the products of fertile imaginations. Still, you’ve got to look haven’t you? I mean...

Firefox lit up the screen.

Half an hour later I had discovered that the canine penis had bone in it, I could think of some men who could have done with that, and what was called the ‘knot’ swelled up to lock the penis into the bitches vagina. It could last for anything up to an hour. I decided against looking for any videos of dogs and women, it felt ... unnecessary. With good reason.

About eighteen months earlier I had met the man who I thought was ‘it’, you know, ‘the one’. We’d been going out for about two months and everything seemed just right. We both laughed at the same things, enjoyed the same things, and the sex was great, we both had similar kinks. Or so I thought. One Sunday we walked home to my place after lunch at a local pub, accompanied by Simon’s dog, a large daft lurcher called Fred. I had become almost as fond of Fred as Simon. When we got in we were ready for a session in the bedroom, and so we left Fred with a bowl of food in the kitchen and retired to my bedroom. When I was naked, and Simon almost there, he picked me up and dumped me on the bed on my hands and knees. He was behind me pressing into me and he said doggy today. Well, I’m very fond of that as his cock always massages my ‘g’ spot. He reached forward and picked up a handcuff. These are padded and had figured in our play before, so I wasn’t concerned, indeed being secured gave me a certain je ne sais quoi. All the time he was kissing me and caressing the spots that always get me going. He reached for the pillows and slid them under my tummy to give me some support. Again we had done this before. What I didn’t realise was that he had also attached a cord from the bed frame to just below my knees keeping my legs spread.

At this point he got off the bed, opened the door, and called Fred. What the hell was going on? I found out a few seconds later when there was weight on the bed again, only this time the tongue that swiped across my crotch from clit to asshole belonged to Fred.

“GET HIM THE FUCK OFF Mmm,” I screamed.

I didn’t finish because he popped a ball gag into my mouth. I felt him fasten it behind my neck. I tried wriggling to get away from that tongue to no effect whatever. I was effectively fixed in place.

“Poor Fred doesn’t often get a bit,” said the person I now regarded as the Asshole. “I’ve been working on you for the last couple of months so that he could have his fun.”

WHAT? YOU BASTARD! You set me up to be screwed by your fucking, uuhh, dog.

The uuhh was because my immediate problem was that that tongue was working its magic.

A couple of minutes later Fred tired of licking and leapt onto my back. He settled himself in place and after a couple of painful jabs he found his mark. My vagina! I was fortunate that I was already lubed because as soon as he found the place he just rammed it home. And he kept going like a jack hammer. The Asshole reached under me and attached a spring clip to each nipple. I do not have more than ‘A’ cups, but I have quite long nipples so he had no problem. There were obviously weights attached because I could feel them swinging. He then came to the head of the bed and removed the handcuffs. I had no option but to continue holding on to the tubes of the bedhead or my head would very likely be rammed through the bars.

“They won’t look very good in the photographs,” he sniggered.

PHOTOGRAPHS? But to be honest by this time I was past caring. Fred was the master of his trade and I was building to an almighty orgasm.

I was very grateful when the next thing the Asshole did was remove the ball gag. I could breathe easier and, a further honesty, I was drooling. I was also moving back and forth, almost vibrating as the orgasm hit me, and went on and on. My God, this was the best ever! So I barely heard...

“Do try and keep still, the pics will be clearer, and you want to look your best.”

Apparently this was very funny.

I felt my hand being detached from the bedhead and my finger being used to give access to my phone. At this point I may have blanked out from the final orgasm for a few seconds. I could feel the heat deep inside me as my rapist discharged his semen, and realised from the pressure I could feel that he was locked to me.

“There,” said the rapist’s master placing my phone on my bedside table. “I’ve removed all your pictures of me, and sent you some nice new ones of you. By golly but they are good, very clear. They’ll look absolutely wonderful with the rest of my collection.”

Collection? What is this monster?

He laughed. “You’re probably wondering, but Fred gets to screw some stupid tart about once a fortnight. I’ve got quite a gallery of photos, you’d be amazed.”

I was beginning to think I wouldn’t be.

“You’re going to blackmail me.”

“Heavens no. I only do this for sport. But you should think more than twice about trying to do anything or trying to find other women. I might have to do something if you did. And do think about it next time you allow some stranger to tie you up. Instead of being a loveable guy like me, they just might put a plastic bag over your head.”

I could feel Fred’s cock pull out of me. I shuddered from both that and the Asshole’s last comment. He could see that Fred was free.

“Come on Fred,” he said. “We’ve got another silly tart to see.”

And with that he left, nice of him to leave the handcuffs.

Silly tart indeed. Well, it didn’t seem too inaccurate when I thought about it. But that was later, at this moment I didn’t know what to think. Of course I was furious, but then I’d just had the best sex ever. But first I needed to free myself. The first thing I did was remove the clips from my nipples. The pain as the circulation returned was something else. I was only attached by the rope below my knees, but that was well done up and I couldn’t see the knots so it took some time. Of course by the time I freed myself he was long gone. And so was Fred. I was left with some very mixed feelings, and a set of photographs that should keep them alive. I did not wish to look at the photographs.

Hot sweet tea is the thing for shock, so I had a brandy and a hot bath. When this was cooling off it occurred to me that if Fred was being provided with a woman roughly every two weeks, that added up to twenty six per year. Were there really that many ‘silly tarts’ in the world? Oh yes, the photographs were very good, if you like that sort of thing.

So I’m sure you can see how I felt. The memory of a fantastic orgasm set against a dreadful betrayal. The betrayal was a man, and that was a problem I could deal with. I would avoid them in future, and indeed I had for the last eighteen months. But that was eighteen months of buying batteries for something that was okay at best. But the memory of Fred ... was Doofus as good I wondered?

The following week I was in the supermarket cafe for my breakfast coffee, but the two girls didn’t show. Perhaps it wasn’t a regular meet, but I knew of no way to contact them other than going there. The next week I collected my coffee, and something that might have been a croissant, although no Frenchman would recognise it. I looked along the tables, and there they were. As I walked towards them I got the impression that they expected me to join them.

“Hi,” I greeted them. “I’m Linda, may I join you?” The blonde indicated a chair. “ I know you are Jo and Rach,” I went on, “but I don’t know which is which.”

“Jo,” said the blonde, and, “Rachel,” said the brunette. Neither were smiling.

“Other than wanting to meet us because of our obvious charisma, I’m not sure what you want,” Jo went on.

“I wanted to ask you something about your conversation the other week.”

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to listen to other people’s conversations?” Jo asked.

I looked at her. “Yes, but she also told me not to discuss private business in public.”

“Touché,” she said. “So what do you want to ask?”

“About Doofus.”

“Ah! My dog. Now why would you be interested in him?”

“At the moment I’m wondering whether he would eat this thing that is supposed to be a croissant.”

“Probably, he is a walking dustbin, but I don’t think it would do him any good.”

Well it certainly wasn’t going to do me any good either.

“Okay,” I said. “This isn’t the time or place. I’ve a day off tomorrow. If you would like to come to my place for coffee and I’ll tell you my story.”

They looked at each other. “Where do you live?” asked Jo, who always seemed to be the leader.

“Winterborne St Clement,” I replied, “Rose Cottage, it’s in a cul de sac off the main street.”

“I know where that is!” exclaimed Rachel. “We live at the other end of the village. You’ve been there what, six months?”

“Yes, about that,” I replied.

“And you drive that fabulous car. My husband goes into raptures over it.”

“Oh! Yes, it isn’t what it seems, it’s a very good replica of a Porsche 356,” I said. “Not the most practical car, but it does impress clients.

“Right,” Jo made the decision. “About eleven?”

“That’ll be fine,” I said finishing my coffee. “Now I must go and make my employer some money. And some for me, of course.”

Jo and Rach arrived just after eleven the next morning, just enough after to cause me just a tad of anxiety. They were duly impressed by the cottage and then asked me what I did for a living.

“I’m a sales rep,” I told them. “I have a degree in marketing, but when I finished I got a job selling, found I was good at it, and now I work for a company supplying industrial equipment, almost anything you can name.”

“So you go round and people order stuff from you.”

“There’s a bit more to it than that. Company buyers just want whatever is needed without having to do too much. So if you persuade them that you can supply what they want when they want it, then they’ll buy from you. I sell me, obviously not through cleavage though!” I indicated the meager content of my tee shirt.

Jo raised an eyebrow.

“No,” I said, “I don’t screw them either. What does help is having a thorough knowledge of everything you are selling and then some. A good memory and listening help too. People will always tell you things about family or problems, and if you can ask how little Jimmy is or how Jemima’s exams went it’ll help.

“So what were you going to tell us,” Rach changed the subject.

Ah! I told them the tale that I’ve already told you. They listened spellbound.

“That’s awful,” said Rach.

“Didn’t you do anything?” asked Jo.

“What could I do ... oh, I haven’t shown you the pictures. You’ll have to come upstairs, they’re not on my laptop or my phone, I just keep them on the desktop.”

They followed me upstairs where I woke up my desktop computer. Several clicks and another password and the first picture appeared. It showed Fred getting down to business. The girls watched in silence until the fifth or sixth photo. This one really was the one you’d not want anyone to see. It showed my face, eyes closed and mouth open, and on my shoulder was Fred’s head with his mouth open. Both of us were drooling. This did cause an intake of breath.

“It looks as though both of you were ecstatic,” Jo opined.

“That’s just my problem,” I replied. “Quite apart from everything else I might feel, or you might think, it was the most incredible orgasm I’ve ever had.”

“Yes,” said Rach with a smile. “It is like that.”

“Rachel! We weren’t going to...”

“Oh don’t be silly, Jo. It is like that and I don’t see any reason to hide it. Not here anyway. And certainly not after those photos.”

“I guess you’re right,” Jo thought for a moment. “Would you like to meet Doofus?”

“Well, if that would be all right,” I said.

“I’ll be taking him for a walk after lunch, I’ll pop in and you can meet him. He can be a bit picky about who he likes, but I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

I waved them goodbye and went in to tidy up and make a light lunch. After that I went upstairs to do some paperwork. Funny isn’t it that once upon a time it was said there would be no more need for paper, and now we seem to have more than ever. I hadn’t forgotten that Jo was coming with Doofus, but I was absorbed in what I was doing so it took me a moment to realise what the knock on the back door meant.

I hurried down and opened the door. Jo was standing there with a large mongrel on a lead. Doofus wasn’t a particularly handsome fellow, but he certainly had a presence. That presence was made up of almost as many ingredients as Mr Heinz has products. I stepped back and invited Jo in. Doofus took the lead, I was trying to greet him and pet him, Jo was pulling on his lead, but he kept pushing me backwards until he had me pinned against a kitchen cabinet. With his nose up under the skirt of my summer dress and his tongue sampling the flavour of my knickers.

“Is h he alwa ys thiss f forward,” I stuttered. By golly that tongue was beginning to feel good.

“He’s not usually. Doofus stop! Stop it now! Bad boy! He certainly seems to have taken to you, Linda. He isn’t normally like this. In fact he’s normally quite standoffish until he gets to know you.”

Well he certainly wasn’t standoffish at the moment. More the opposite. And that tongue was really getting to me.

“D’you think he’d mind if I took my knickers off?”

“I think he’d love it.”

I was attempting this difficult manoeuvre, not helped by my trainers, when Jo suggested that we might be more comfortable in the lounge. And that wasn’t easy. As I entered the lounge Doofus struck again. This time he attacked, if that is the right word, sticking his nose firmly between my bum cheeks. I tripped and ended up on my hands and knees with my dress up over my back. Doofus pressed home his advantage, leapt up onto my back and in one almighty thrust his doggy penis was firmly seated in me. And then he began the jack hammer routine that I had experienced with Fred.

“I’ll just sit over here and watch.”

Yes Jo, you do that.

Doofus hammered away until I had a major orgasm. He stopped, and then began again. I had a second orgasm and he paused and began again. I could feel his knot was seated and as he filled me with his jism I orgasmed again. I’m not sure if I actually stopped having orgasms in between, or whether it was continuous, everything was a blur.

Eventually we parted and I rolled onto my back. I could see Doofus attending to his tackle with long licks.

“Do you know I’ve never seen anything like that before,” Jo remarked. “you must have something, but not being a dog I’m hanged if I know what.”

There really wasn’t anything I could say, I was too exhausted and just lay there. Jo had disappeared only to return after a few minutes with mugs of tea.

“I think we could both do with this,” she said. “Then I’ll take him for his walk. If he has any energy left.”

We sat silently for a few minutes.

“D’you know,” Jo began, “I hope we don’t meet in the high street. It would be frightfully embarrassing for my dog to be doing that in public. Embarrassing for you too.”

After Jo left I had a shower, cleaned up and did very little, I was exhausted. I didn’t know when I would see either of them again, but I guessed we might meet over breakfast next week. But not with a ‘croissant’.

Life went on, sales continued to be good, and both the company and I were making good money. On the usual day the following week I went into the supermarket, got my coffee, decided on toast, and ... there was a little clear container with what was said to be marmalade in it. Oh well ... I could see Jo and Rach and I went to join them. After greetings, they both had big grins on their faces, and after a general chit chat I thanked Jo for ‘the other day’. They both fell about laughing.

“I wish I’d been there,” said Rach. “Perhaps next time.”

“There’ll be a next time?” I looked at Jo.

“If you like. When is your day off?” she asked.

“Oh I take any time I want. If my sales figures get too high it’s an embarrassment to the company.

“Can you sell anything?” asked Rach. “Like, say, a computer program?”

“The basic answer is yes,” I said, “but I’d need to know a lot about it and enough training to get me up to speed on what it could do and why someone would want it.”

She looked thoughtful, but Jo went on. “How about tomorrow afternoon? You’ll have an audience mind,” she giggled.

“I had that last time, if you remember.”

At least this time I avoided being virtually raped by Doofus. This time I got some foreplay, not much admittedly. I decided that I would just wear a short dressing gown, and stand in the lounge when the girls came. I left the back door open for them. Doofus recognised where he was and there was no hesitation, whatever irresistible attraction I had still worked. I thought I ready for him, but he’s a heavy dog, and at speed he simply knocked me backwards with his nose firmly on target. Fortunately I had placed one of those large cushions, you know the ones full of polystyrene beads, on the floor and that is where I ended up. He was more or less forced to use his tongue due to the position. But he went at it with a will and it was me who decided that enough was enough after my first orgasm, and turned over so that he could have his way. And Doofus had a way, and the way was almost exactly the same as before. The difference this time was that the girls had found my nipple clamps and had, from either side, reached under me and attached them. With the weights swinging in time to Doofus’s thrusts I was in a place between heaven and hell, between pain and ecstacy. It couldn’t go on for ever, although it felt like it would, Doofus finished and eventually detached himself. I was still semi comatose on the cushion.

I came to as I heard the girls clapping. Was that for Doofus, or me, I wondered.

“Oh, I wish that had been me,” Rach sort of breathed the comment.

“He’ll be ready in half an hour,” said Jo. “Meantime I guess I’m the tea maker again.”

“Your turn next,” I said to Rach.

“Oh I couldn’t, not in public.”

“Hardly public, it’s just the three of us.”

“I know, but...”

I guessed that with Jo being tall and slim, and me being much the same as my bust development, in other words skinny and about average in height, Rach felt conscious of her cuddly figure, that, remarkably, matched her cuddly personality.

Jo came back with tea.

“I found some biscuits in the cupboard, You looked like you could do with some sustenance. Have you got your knickers off yet Rach?”

“Umm, no.”

Doofus, now fully recovered, got to his feet and walked over to her, his nose going between her legs and from her squawk clearly hit the mark.

“You’d better obey the master, Rach,” said Jo.

She squirmed about and in a few moments a small bundle of lace appeared in her hand. She was becoming quite vocal and I decided to guide her down onto the cushion. In moments she was on her hands and knees and Doofus was back in the saddle. I pushed her tee shirt up and undid her bra. I looked at Jo and together we attached the nipple clamps. The noise level was now too loud, we’d have someone calling the police. I grabbed the final toy that we had, the ball gag, and stuffed the ball in her mouth. I buckled it at the back of her neck and sat down to watch the performance.

“Jeez, was I like that?”

“More or less,” said Jo. “Not quite so noisy, but not a lot of difference.”

After Doofus had finished Rach was passed out, so I rolled her into the recovery position and removed the clamps and the gag.

After they left, Rach looking very embarrassed, I went through the same routine as last time, sat down and wondered if I had enough energy to get supper. Probably not.

My two new friends were sitting in the usual place in the cafe. You may think that friends is a bit of an overstatement considering how few times we had met, but shared experiences tend to make firmer friends. My toasted tea cake arrived, perhaps an odd selection for breakfast.

“I am thinking,” I said after our normal greetings, “of getting my own dog.”

“If it has the same reaction to you that Doofus has, you’re never going to be able to get out of the house,” Jo laughed.

“I’ll just have to take that risk,” I said.

They were both busy the next day when we might have met, so I decided I would visit the rescue place then.

The pet rescue centre was only on the other side of town, so it didn’t take me long to get there. I was wearing jeans and a jumper and a pair of leather boots, I wasn’t too sure what the conditions would be like. My precautions turned out to be entirely unnecessary. I drove in and parked in the small car park. Somebody obviously cared about first impressions because there were well tended flower borders which made the place quite welcoming. I entered the large shed type building that housed the office and reception. There was a girl wearing a headset sitting behind a computer and as I entered she looked up, smiled, and asked if she could help.

“I want to adopt a dog,” I told her.

“You’ve come to the right place,” she laughed. “I’ll get help for you.”

She pressed a key and a moment later said there’s a lady to see about a dog mum.

A few minutes later help arrived in the form of a lady in her fifties, about 170 tall, that’ll be 5 feet six inches for those of you who dwell in the past, and slim. She was crowned with a mop of silver hair streaked with dark gray that was untidily gathered into a bun. She was very attractive and must have been quite a beauty in her youth.

She held out a hand. “Hello, I’m Polly Parrett, I own the rescue centre. Call me Polly. How can I help?”

“Linda Smith,” I took her hand. I didn’t bother to say ffosdyke Smith which is my full name. “I would like to adopt a dog.”

“We have plenty to choose from. Do you have any preference?”

“Fairly large and friendly. I live on my own and I’d like company and, well, a guard dog too.”

She looked at me thoughtfully. “I think I may have just the thing for you. Come with me.”

I followed her out of the office and into a maze of pens. She explained that this dog had been dropped here by a man who was leaving the country, He had given them a considerable donation which was very welcome. Unfortunately the dog was very unhappy, wasn’t eating and just lay in his pen. We reached the dog’s pen. The occupant was a large grey lurcher that looked so depressed that one imagined had he been human he would be attempting to end it all.

Recognition dawned. It was that pink nose.

“Fred,” I said, somewhat tentatively.

The dog looked up, then he heaved himself to his feet. He looked at me again.

“Fred,” I said firmly.

Whether he recognised me, or whether he saw a female who his master might allow him to ... yes well, but whichever he was now positively animated.

“How did you know his name was Fred?” asked Polly.

“I went out with his owner for a short while. We didn’t really mesh,” I told the truth, if not all of it.

“Well, Fred must recognise you. He hasn’t been this lively since he got here. I take it he’ll suit you?”

“Yes, he’s just perfect.”

Polly smiled. “There’s some paperwork to do and we do ask for a donation. Would £200 be acceptable?”

I handed her my credit card.

“We’ll need to give him a bath and a final check over, and you can’t get him in that car, so I’ll deliver him. Would tomorrow, say three o’clock be convenient? I can have a look at you and make sure you’ll be all right. And of course, most importantly that Fred will be all right.

I agreed. I hoped I was doing the right thing.

I hadn’t thought about the car before and that was a bit of a poser. I was very fond of my ‘Porsche’. Plenty of time to think about that, no need for precipitate action.

The next day I spent the morning making a number of calls and arrived home in good time. I had a shower and put on a short robe and then went down for a light lunch. I had a small amount of paperwork to complete sitting at the kitchen table. At half past two I decided that it was time I got dressed ready for my visitor. I had done no more than stand up when there was a knock on the back door. I opened the back door to find that Polly and Fred were early. Whilst Polly was trying to hold on to Fred and apologise for being early. Fred was nosing his way in. And you can guess where his nose was heading!

I backed up as quickly as I could, but I wasn’t escaping Fred. He pulled a still apologising Polly though the kitchen as I backed into the lounge. This was disastrous, what on earth was the poor woman going to think? Fred was going straight back to the kennels and I would be branded as a scarlet woman. Or something.

This time it was the coffee table. I was concentrating, quite unsuccessfully, to defend myself and I just went straight over backwards and ended up on the bean bag. Fred, naturally just leapt over the table and claimed his prize. It was after he had brought me to my first orgasm that Polly helped me onto my hands and knees, Fred jumped on my back and we were off to the races. A cushion appeared on the floor in front of me which I thought was very kind, somewhere to rest my chin. An ankle appeared on either side of my head, odd I thought, but then Polly sat on the cushion. She had nothing on her lower half. The ankles turned into legs as she stretched them out on either side of me. I watched all of this happen in a rather detached way, Fred was in full flight and I suspect had been on short rations for a while. My hands were lifted to the outside of the legs and my chin was on the cushion. Hands slid under me and thumb and forefinger nails caught my nipples. They pulled me forward, helped by Fred’s thrusts, and my nose and mouth ended up somewhere they had never been before.