Chapter 4

I slept through breakfast the next morning. Jack had already left for the office when Helen appeared in the bedroom quite excited.

"Someone's found Clyde," she announced.

I opened one eye and looked at my sister. She was holding a slip of paper in one hand and begging for my attention.

"Where?" I managed to ask.

"It's some kennel north of the city. The police picked him up running along the highway and brought him there." She was elated. "Isn't it grand? I'll be so glad to see him again."

I stepped out of bed and put my robe on. My sister was reading off the name of the kennel from the slip of paper.

"Are you certain it's Clyde?" I wanted to know.

"It must be," she assured me. "I just talked with the man who runs the place, and his description was uncanny. It could not be any other dog."

"I'm glad," I said, coming up to her and giving her a kiss on the cheek. "You're very fond of Clyde.

Her bosom heaved slightly and pushed gently against my own.

"Quick!" she said, grabbing both my arms. "I'll fry you an egg while you get dressed. I want to go over there this morning." She turned and ran in the direction of the kitchen.

I stepped across the hall into the bathroom. Removing my robe I sat on the toilet and reached for the hand mirror behind me. I was curious as to my condition and spread my legs.

Spreading the lips with the first two fingers of my right hand, I moved the fingers down two or three times more, separating the folds as much as I could to get a good look inside.

The soreness seemed to have disappeared. I ran the tip of one finger inside. The opening seemed normal. I tried two, and then three fingers. It stretched easily but was elastic enough to offer some resistance to being opened.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Everything was returning to a state of normalcy.

Spreading my legs a little wider, I held the mirror a foot away from it and tried to get an idea of its overall appearance. The outer lips didn't exactly close over everything. Well, I wasn't sixteen anymore either, I told myself.

The amount of hair growing around that region of me always struck me as excessive. Except for my head and under my arms I was not a hairy person, and could never understand why I had such growth down there.

I held the mirror closer to examine it. Hair grew thickly on both sides and down under. Rising slightly, I looked further on down and saw it growing around my asshole, although much more sparsely.

Sighing, I put the mirror down and stood all the way up. With two fingers, I gently tried to squeeze the outer lips shut. They mushed together nicely, but pouted open again immediately when I let go.

Helen was calling me that breakfast was about ready, and I turned to other matters.

She sat and watched me eating. Her conversation was very animated. I knew she was impatient to get out to the kennel and tried not to appear uninterested. She was planning a bath for Clyde the minute he got home, she told me.

As she knew the way, I let her drive although she offered the chore to me. While I listened to her talk I kept doing a little exercise I had been taught once which was supposed to strengthen the muscles around the opening to the vagina. It must have seemed to Helen that I was not paying attention.

"You're miles away, aren't you?" she was asking me.

I took notice and blushed.

"What are you thinking about, Bea?" she queried.

"I was thinking about a man having one the size of that pony's." Actually I had just come up with the thought in reply to her question.

"How would you ever find him?" Helen wondered. "Even if you did, he might be too hard to live with. You know? What kind of a husband would he make? Every girl around would be chasing him." She was thinking of Jack.

"I wonder though, does a man ever have one that big? Is it possible?"

We were passing a farm where some horses were grazing.

"Maybe you should move up to a horse," Helen suggested. "They're even bigger!"

The thought of something even bigger yet stuffing into me was a randy idea but frightening.

"Come on," I said. "I thought I was going to be killed." She was getting me excited talking about it that way. "Were you able to see? Did he finally get it all in?" I asked.

"I," she paused, "I think so. I couldn't believe it."

"Where did it all go?" I asked, amazed. I held up my hands in the manner of a fisherman. "It must have been this long," I said, looking at the distance between them. "Now, if you take that same length and lay it across me here," I explained, moving my hands to my body, "the end of it is way up here."

She shot a glance at where my hand rested. It was almost exactly between my breasts.

"It can't possibly go all the way up there, or can it?" I wanted to know.

"It stretches nice," Helen giggled.

"Let's see how you do when your turn comes," I said to her.

She giggled some more. We came to a crossroads, and Helen turned the car to the right. About two miles down the road we saw the sign indicating the kennel and turned into it. Pens were all around us filled with dogs of many different breeds, and the animals collectively made one great racket as we got out.

The noise brought a man running out of what must have been a private house at one time, but had been converted to an office and other facilities for the kennel.

"You the ladies for the collie?" he asked immediately. At our acknowledgment he motioned us to follow him, and we walked back along the pens to a small brick structure that looked of recent construction. A number of bricks that had not been used were still piled off to the left.

The man was tall, about six feet five or six inches, but had an enormous pot belly that hung out over his trouser belt. In profile the trouser belt made a diagonal line up to where it clung to the small of his back. His trousers were rather floppy, he had no ass to speak of, and were too long.

He yanked out a mess of keys from one pocket and looked through them until finding the right one.

"Here we go," he said, unlocking the door.

We followed him inside. About six stalls lined each side of the wall. They were very clean and seemed to incorporate every convenience available to the up-to-date kennel operator.

"We keep the real good dogs here," he informed us. "Your collie is in this one." He pointed to one marked number nine.

Helen walked over and called out Clyde's name. The big collie came up to the gate, wagging it tail, but I knew instantly Helen was looking at a dog other than her own.

"Oh, Bea," she said, disappointed. "It isn't him."

I came over and reached through the bars, patting the dog's head. "You could fool

me, Sis. It's an amazing likeness," I told her.

"It's the eyes," she said, "and the coloring on the nose. See that pink splotch just at the beginning of the nose? Clyde has no pink on his nose. This isn't as good a dog as Clyde," she concluded.

He was a beautiful dog nonetheless.

"Too bad!" the man said. "Make a nice pet. You have kids?" he asked Helen and then fixing his eyes on me as if to ask the same question.

We shook our heads.

"Be good pet anyway," he went on. "Cops found this poor guy running along the interstate. Well, "he declared, "somebody's going to claim him. Too good a dog."

We walked outside to the car. Helen was dejected and had little to say. The man wished her luck, and we drove off.

About a mile along the road her thoughts had absorbed her attention a little too much, and she failed to notice a wide truck coming in the opposite direction.

"Yipe!" I shouted, pointing.

She reacted instantly, swerving to the right, but overcompensated, and the car's right side went off the shoulder into a deep gully.

The car was not damaged, nor were we hurt, but Helen could not get enough traction to move the car either forward or backward.

"You try it, Bea," she suggested.

We exchanged places, but I had no better luck. The weight of the car needed both rear wheels to drive it, and one wheel just spun uselessly, barely touching the ground.

"We'll need a tow," I said. "You belong to the Automobile Club?" I asked her.

"Yes," she sighed, going through her purse. She found the card in her wallet and showed it to me. Something in her expression made me feel sorry for her. I patted her head.

"I'll go, Helen," I assured her. "It can't be more than a mile back there. You stay here."

She smiled at me. The warm smile of our childhood when we had just shared a candy bar, or when pushing little dolls around inside a doll house, our hands had accidentally bumped.

She leaned over and gave me a hug, and I could feel her heart beating through her skin.

Out on the road I was wishing I hadn't chosen to wear heels that day. I thought back to myself sitting in the bedroom that morning and making the choice. The road was level but at the pace I was trying to maintain, the walking was giving my muscles a workout.

As cars came up behind me, I tried slowing down to prevent too much of a bounce and swing to my butt. I would have welcomed a ride, but wasn't in the mood for offering myself as payment, even in jest.

Some cars slowed and went by. I noticed they contained couples, a not likely source for a hitch for someone like me. So many women, having once surrendered their names and identities to a man, are naturally insecure. Having an unperson then for a partner, the man will often seek a real individual elsewhere.

I thought of those guys as they went by. From the way one's face lighted up, I knew he would have offered me a lift if the wife had not been along. If women had anything approaching real freedom in the country, she would have been happy for him to stop.

An old black panel truck with white peace signs sloppily painted on it slowed down as it passed. A number of older teenage boys inside did some whistling and hooting. I waved at them good- naturedly.

It was a deserted section of the road. I could not recall any buildings between the kennel and where we had gone into the ditch. It was a cool day, and I was in no danger of working up a sweat.

The black panel truck had turned around and was slowly coming back the other way. As it came up abreast of me, it came to a stop. The driver, a young kid about twenty asked if I wanted a ride.

Some pleasant tone in his voice temporarily disarmed me and I said okay.

"I'm just going to the kennel," I said.

"Get in," he said in a matter of fact tone. "I'll turn around up ahead."

I walked around to the other side of the vehicle. A short, fat boy of seventeen or eighteen was already out of the truck and held the door open for me. I stepped up in, and the boy doing the driving told me to find a seat inside.

A curtain separated the body of the truck from the driving area, and as I stepped through, it took me a moment to become accustomed to the dimness inside. I soon noticed there were no seats. Two boys were seated on the floor near the rear. The floor was covered with blankets and sleeping bags.

The truck started up, and I sat down on one of the bags to keep from falling.

The boy who had been driving came through the curtain, and I concluded the fat boy must obviously be at the wheel. The boy sat down next to me.

"Peace!" he said, chewing on what must have been gum.

He had moved a little too close to me, and I grew apprehensive. "Whatever you say," I told him, shifting my position so as to let him know I didn't welcome any funny business.

"Know," he chewed. "A woman gets in a gig like this, I read she's hoping one thing." He was seated Indian-style and leaning slightly forward, his head nodding slightly as his jaws worked on the gum.

"You better go back to school and learn how to read," I said, getting up. "When's your kid brother going to turn this thing around?" Looking through the curtains, I got a glimpse of Helen standing alongside the car as we drove by. I was positive she had seen me, too.

Recovering from his initial surprise, the gum-chewing kid stood up and, grabbing my arm, spun me around. I lost my balance and fell, landing hard on my bottom. He flung himself on top of me immediately, pressing the bulge in his trousers into my crotch as hard as he could.

"You ain't gonna act so uppity, lady, when you find out there's real cock on board here," he snarled.

I pushed at him. He was actually hurting me with his weight and knew it. The two boys at the rear moved forward to watch. He wasn't about to budge, and just lay there. He began pressing the bulge rhythmically against me. I got the impression he was trying to work it up as it in no way felt hard.

"Real cock, lady," he said again.

I reached up with my mouth and bit him hard on the nose.

He rolled off, screaming and holding his nose. Coming back, he whacked me across the face with the back of his hand.

"I'll bite your tit off for that," he swore. "Hank! Bijou! Sit on her arms," he commanded the other two.

The two boys got on either side of me and sat with all their weight on the insides of my elbows. I could feel the circulation in my arms being cut off almost right away.

"We, got her good, Macho," one of them told the gum chewer. It was true. I couldn't do much more than move my shoulders.

"Now, let's see what kind of a cunt this one's got," the one called Macho said. He pushed my thighs aside violently, pulling the tendons. I cried out in pain. My legs had never been spread apart that wide before.

Grabbing hold of my panties, he tore them off in one quick yank. All three of them started to laugh at once.

"Look at that," Macho leered.

"All hair," snorted one of the others.

"Lady, you have got one hairy ass," Macho said to me. "Feel on it, Hank," he urged.

The kid on my left reached down and ran his fingers roughly into my vulva as if he were fingering gravel.

"That's enough," Macho said suddenly, irritation in his voice. "Now, lick 'em off," he commanded.

"Aw, Mach," Hank protested. "I ain't one to eat no pussy."

"That's why you got to lick 'em off," he said, smiling through clenched teeth. "You got to learn what these dumb cunts are made of."

Hank stuck the fingers in his mouth quickly, pulling them out almost immediately. Macho and Bijou roared and kept up the teasing. I shut my eyes hard.

"You know, Beej," Macho declared, "I've heard it said, a man who will eat cunt will eat cock, too."

"I've heard that, yeah, yeah," said Bijou, agreeing.

Hank tried to change the subject. "You gonna fuck her?" he asked, nodding in my direction.

"Maybe she's gonna eat a little cock first, then we'll talk about ass," Macho answered. He unhooked his belt buckle with one hand. Sucking in his stomach, he reached down with both hands and slowly unbuttoned his fly. Standing straight on his knees, he pushed his levi's and undershorts down below his groin.

The meat flopped out. He had no erection, but the penis appeared to have the potential of being quite large when hard. The testicles clung close to the base and had very long hairs growing out from the sac that contained them. There were not too many of them, but they were quite long.

The skin covering his penis grew down over the head, encapsulating it. I took this to mean that he was uncircumcised though I had never seen one like it before. I stiffened.

"How 'bout it, lady?" Macho urged, taking the penis in his hand and lolling it at me. "Getting' hungry?" he grinned. "You want to be fucked, you're gonna have to work on it a little," he informed me, moving it closer.

"I'll bite it off, so help me," I seethed out at him through clenched teeth. Probably remembering his nose he changed expression as if he were convinced I meant it. He backed away. I felt I had won some kind of a victory.

"She don't eat, Mach," Hank said.

"Shit she don't eat!" Macho exclaimed. "They all eat. There ain't a woman around don't want it. What do you think makes the dumb cunts so dumb? It's cock, man, cock," he bellowed.

Spitting into my vulva suddenly, he rubbed the spittle into the lips with his fingers. Leaning forward, he tried to run the spongy organ into my vagina in its flaccid state. The exercises I had been doing all morning evidently had made it possible to thwart him. He got nowhere.

I was afraid his continued frustration might lead to further violence so I relaxed. At one point in his struggles then, he succeeded, by careful tamping, in getting the hooded tip just inside the entrance. For some reason he could not feel the degree of success he had thus achieved and allowed it to fall right out again.

Hank and Bijou remained breathless, apparently afraid to make any comment. The truck slowed down to a stop, and I heard the motor turn off. The fat boy appeared through the curtain, combing his hair and staring at me.

"Tony, you fuck her," Macho said, getting off me. "I ain't ready yet." He sat back against the wall looking dazedly at his penis.

Tony unbuttoned his fly and pulled out a penis that quickly hardened. It had a long, thin look to it. He broke into a smile and knelt down between my legs.

He didn't quite know where to put it, but jabbed away at me anyway. He poked a few places that really hurt and I howled. Both he and Macho interpreted my cries as sexual. Macho crawled back over to me.