Chapter 8

Jason had been right, Carolyn thought to herself. After the first couple weeks, it had been easier. She no longer felt more than occasional twinges of guilt over her association with the dogs. It had become a job - with its unpleasant moments, with its gratifying moments as well - it was a job and it paid well. She longed to be free of it, sometimes during the long sleepless nights, but she seldom considered trying to leave Royal Benson Kennels. The hours were good.

She worked from four to five hours a day. In exchange for those hours, she received room and board and $300 a month, tax free... and all the orgasms she wanted, she thought mirthlessly. She was rapidly building up a nice nest egg... and an insatiable hunger for sex. Carolyn shrugged her shoulders indifferently. What the hell, there were plenty of dogs in training with Dane- sized dogpeckers and boundless energy. She no longer felt repulsed by their great cocks in her body. It gave her much pleasure... and the dogs were not to blame. They were devoted, well-trained, well-bred animals and only doing what they were systematically trained to do. They were clean, genuinely affectionate and eager to please. Why shouldn't she let them please?

Carolyn yawned. She had been up late last night watching a movie on her small television set. When time came to sleep, somehow she hadn't been drowsy and had lain there for several hours thinking about Royal Benson Kennels. She had made an important decision. When she had saved up enough money, perhaps $1500, she would leave New York and begin again. New clothes new hair style, new town... new life... one with a steady job, a nice young man and a normal sex life. She would tell everyone that she was allergic to dogs or something so she would never be put in a position of temptation from their proximity. It was an important decision, Carolyn nodded to herself. Yes, something to plan for, to think about, and to look forward to.

Meanwhile there was work to do. Jason had specifically asked her to come down to the lab early this morning, to complete her chores rapidly. Today she was to begin her 'solo flight' as it were. Dog show season began in less than a month and Jason wanted to prepare her to take over full charge of the special training section. Carolyn smiled ironically to herself. Funny thing, Jason had ceased to force his sexual attentions on her once she willingly accepted the dogs. When sexual union with the animals no longer repulsed her, he seemed to withdraw within himself. He became silent and brooding and his relationship with her was one of clinical sterility. He watched the couplings, studied the dog's techniques and made suggestions for improvement. He supervised their diets and their coat care. But his demeanor with Carolyn was no different than his attitude toward Mario, one of tolerance of the hired help, barely tolerant. Not that she minded, Carolyn thought gratefully. Jason's sexual prowess left much to be desired even if he could manage to get the pitifully limp thing in gear.

She heard footsteps at the door and the whir of the electric trip for the door but she went right on with her work and didn't turn around. The tread was light on the tile behind her. It was Jason.

"Good morning, Jason," Carolyn said tonelessly over the sound of running water in the sink.

"Hmmm? Oh, yes, yes." Jason muttered. "Did you see that envelope of AKC pedigree forms? It came just recently and I'm sure I left it in here."

There was a frantic rattle of papers, cupboard doors opened and shut, and footsteps hurrying about. Like a rat, a large rat squeaking and scurrying about, Carolyn thought impersonally, and she didn't care for rats.

"I can't find them anywhere," Jason muttered to himself, "and I must register those pups before the opening show. "Where in the world????"

Without turning around, Carolyn knew he was making a shamble of the small desk top where she maintained the intricate records of all her canine charges. It would take her an hour to straighten out the mess he made.

"They aren't in here, Jason." She hoped to discourage him from disrupting her work schedule. "I cleaned out that desk just yesterday. There's nothing in there except the lab forms. Are you sure they came this week? Sure they were brought into the lab?"

"Yes, yes, of course I'm sure," he said, continuing his scramble through the once orderly drawers. "Don't you remember, girl, you paid Mario for the extra postage out of the petty cash right here in this drawer! It was a large manila envelope with airmail stickers all over it. Now where the..."

"Oh. Oh that." Carolyn could never understand Jason's preoccupation with show season. It drove everything else completely out of his mind, like closing the door on a cluttered closet. "For heaven sakes, that envelope came nearly a month ago. You left it here on the desk for two weeks and I finally filed it away in the kennel records files out front." "Huh? Oh, has it been that long?" He scurried out of the lab and the door whirred shut behind him.

She shook her head. Couldn't understand that man. Not that she really cared, he was another of the disgusting vermin of the world and the fact that he was human was purely accidental! But he could sign checks and cash them and give her a badly needed start on a new life. A means to an end. After all, life was not necessarily pretty even for the 'respectable' inhabitants of society. The dogs were more respectful in their attitude toward her than the many fanny-pinching bosses she'd worked for in the past. She'd had more than her share of that run-around-the- desk exercise that kept most working girls slim. That was what had prompted her to accept a job away from her home town, she recalled, a 'nice respectable job for a girl alone' her older friends had said and so she moved to New York and went to work for the Deacon. Save your money and save your soul... they expected most of her money donated to the church and the Deacon's respectable son had taken care of her soul. It had been the recollection of this unsavory memory that had prompted her decision to remain with Royal Benson Kennels until she had saved up enough money to really become respectable. "Whatcha thinking so hard about, Lollypop?"

Carolyn jumped noticeably. She had been so engrossed in her thoughts this morning that she hadn't noticed the whir of the electric door. She looked around into Mario's perpetually leering face. "Don't call me Lollypop!" she growled at him.

"Awww, don't be like that," he grinned, "it's just a pet name for a little girl who likes all day suckers." "You're disgusting, Mario!"

"You don't think that when you get itchy-britches from the dogs, you prissy little whore!" Mario scowled at the girl's back. "Just you let them goddam Danes work on ya awhile and you change your tune. Then you start eyeing my pants, don't ya bitch?"

Carolyn didn't answer. She stacked the last of the dog bowls in the low sink and began scrubbing them clean.

"Don't ya?" Mario poked at her shoulder with a stiff finger. "About the third stud ya exercise, you start getting horny and even the dogs can't satisfy you, can they? All a guy's gotta do is walk up beside the stanchion and hang his dong out and Little Miss Innocence starts gobblin'... Jesus! Yer just lucky I got a leanin' toward French Culture or you'd be out of luck."

"You wouldn't know what 'culture' was," Carolyn spat at him. "I doubt that you could even spell it"

"Huh! Well maybe I ain't no college graduate like old piss- in-his- pants Benson, but that sure as hell don't seem to bother ya none when your dog-eating pussy's on fire and ya gotta yen to suck!"

Carolyn whirled around with fire in her eye but Mario jumped back and laughed obscenely. It made his day off to a good start when he could rile the girl. He had little use for her lately. It had been great fun when she was scared shitless of the dogs and had to be tied down to be screwed by anybody. She had been a real piece of tail then... until she got to liking the dogs. Now the only time he could get a piece of her was when she'd had several of the Danes to exercise and was hotter than a Tennessee cracker, and then it was usually with a dog hung up in her and she frenched him. He oughta let her go hungry! That's what he oughta do. Still, he thought resentfully, she was better than the dogs when ya really need to squirt. Goddam righteous women anyway, who they think they were?

"Here," Carolyn shoved a stack of water pans in his arms. "Get your mind out of the gutter and let's get the work done around here."

"Okay, okay," Mario took the pans and walked slowly toward the first row of cages, "but just you wait, hot twat, wait until you're hungry for my meat. Ya know what I'm gonna do then? Ya know? I'm gonna take it out and wave it under yer goddam nose and then I'm gonna shove it up a dog's ass... and you can suck yer thumb!"

Mario slammed open the door of the first cage and went about his clean-up chores muttering to himself. Carolyn washed out the sink quickly, then began sorting and filling the nursing bottles. She wanted to work. She needed to work. She needed to do something to keep her mind occupied. What he said was true. She hated his guts but it was true. When the dogs had warmed her up, she would willingly do just about anything. It was phenomenal what those rough tongues could do to a girl. Her schedule called for six young lickers, as Jason so crudely referred to the beginning males, a day on Tuesday and Thursday. There were four mature males in training at the moment who went all the way Monday, Wednesday and Friday. And then, of course, there were the pups who had to be bottle nursed a few minutes each and every day and those who were old enough given five minutes at her breast, not for the nutrient value for her breasts were dry, of course, but to keep their puppy nursing habits well in mind through the transition period from puppy to fully trained adulthood. It was no wonder she got a little overheated. With the training schedule she followed, a marble statue would need a tranquilizer.

Carolyn finished filling the nursing bottles and lined them up on the shelf of the small refrigerator. The food and water dishes had been cleaned and the meat and kibble prepared for the next meal. She looked around the room to make sure she had not forgotten anything. Jason was a tyrant at times. She had known the feel of his dog whips more than once, and she had no desire to experience the pain again. His sadistic desire to degrade and cause pain to women had frightened her for awhile but she had become mentally numb to the many things about Royal Benson Kennels which revolted her. It was easier that way. He no longer frightened her, but she tried to avoid giving him any possible cause to do it again.

"Come on, you lazy broad," Mario growled from the row of cages, "If I gotta work, so do you."

It was getting harder and harder lately to ignore Mario's crude cutting comments. If he didn't stop it, one of these days she would sic the dogs on him. They were fanatically devoted to her and one word would be all it would take. Just then she heard the electric purr of the outer door and knew Jason had returned to the lab to begin the day's work. She turned to him and awaited orders.

Jason walked directly to the metal cupboard and removed a small black notebook from the shelf of dog breeding books. He picked up a Veterinarian's Guide To Canine Matings in the other hand, a large thick volume with unmistakable signs of long use. Carolyn watched and waited without speaking. He laid these upon the long center counter, pursed his lips as if wondering what he had forgotten, then with an almost inaudible 'oh yes' he crossed to the small safe which stood in the far corner of the room. She watched him squat on his sparemeated haunches and flip the dial impatiently. When it clicked open, he reached in and brought out a beautifully tooled leather covered book. This too he placed upon the center counter after locking the safe door securely behind him. He looked at the three items he had placed there, nodded his head curtly to himself, then turned to Carolyn.