Chapter 3

I started fucking the dogs on an almost nightly basis. Or rather, I started getting fucked by the dogs on an almost nightly basis. I was never really in control, you see. Night would come and the house would settle and I would lay awake in bed imagining that I could hear them howling for me. The thought that they were demanding me to sneak out to serve them would get me so wet that I would toss and turn for hours, unable to sleep from wanton horniness. Sometimes exhaustion would eventually take hold but that was rare. More often than not I surrendered to what I perceived was their will.

It was risky, I knew. There was always a chance of getting caught. Despite that, however, I often found myself going to them. I'd open my window in the dead of night, slip out onto the roof, and then scamper down the lattice to the ground below. Sometimes, when I was feeling especially horny, I would strip naked first and sneak over to the kennel in the nude. It was exhilarating, but whether I was clothed or not when I arrived didn't matter. My demanding canine masters knew why I was there. I never needed peanut butter anymore. When I went to them I was always wet already, and they could smell my desire and knew that I was in heat. Sometimes they would fight to establish who got first dibs, but generally it was Ike (who had been away with my dad and brothers that first night) who mounted me first. Marshal, my dear and gentle pet who had penetrated me the first time, usually went last. Patton and MacArthur rounded out the middle spots, and that was the way it worked.

My sexually immature (and increasingly depraved) young mind would justify my actions however it could. Convincing myself that I had no choice but to do their "bidding" served the dual purpose of turning me on and establishing that none of this was my fault. I didn't give them my body, they took it. I didn't want to fuck them, they fucked me. The Bible was clear that man had been blessed to "reign over the fish in the sea, the birds in the sky, and all the animals", but when I was with my dad's dogs I actually felt like an animal. When they fucked me it was like I was a different person, a different species, not ordained by God to dominate these beasts but a weak and wanton creature destined to do their bidding. And that creature had no idea why a 13-year-old Becky Sullivan would even try to resist. In fact, the creature those dogs turned me into hated Becky Sullivan, a weak-willed human girl scared of her own shadow and ashamed of what her body needed. In that kennel, with those dogs, I felt a kind of primal joy I'd never even imagined had existed before.

It wasn't like I didn't know how sick these nighttime sojourns were, though. In my hungover yet sexually sated mood the morning after fucking them that first time, I did some research. The Bible was very clear: "A woman must not offer herself to a male animal to have intercourse with it; this is a perverse act." (Leviticus 18:23). And this came from the Bible, the holy tomb that had been my education, my schooling, my everything since I was old enough to read! And it told me I was "perverse" for fucking the dogs. This fact meant something to me, believe it or not. It made me cry some nights, and have nightmares of roasting in Hell for my terrible sinning. But it couldn't stop me. Nothing could. Because when I got on my knees for those dogs I became an animal, and I liked being an animal. The orgasms they gave me were quick and sure and perfect in a way that really can't be described. Sins be damned, I'd confess them on my deathbed. I certainly wouldn't confess them now. My weekly confessions to Father DeGrazia became less and less sincere as time passed along.

My fear of eternal damnation for what I was doing could only be rivaled by my fear of what might happen if my dad or brothers ever found out. Thankfully my dad had built the kennel for the specific purpose of quieting the dogs' yowling and barks. My cries and moans as his pets pummeled me were nothing in comparison to their level of noise, so I could remain fairly confident that no one could hear me with them. Even so I was afraid. Constantly afraid. Every night, after Marshal came inside me, I shook from head to toe as I crept back toward the house. What if Tyler or Ron or Jason had woken up for a late-night pee and had checked in on me? What if my dad had? Or what if I'd been wrong when I'd left, and one of them had still been awake and had seen me sneaking out? I thanked God every night when I returned safely to my bed without incident. With doggy-sperm filling my womb I would swear to myself, and to Him, that I wouldn't be so reckless anymore. But I knew I was thanking a God who I clearly had no respect for. I mean, I was breaking one of his earliest laws! Those words from Leviticus haunted me: "... a woman must not offer herself to a male animal to have intercourse with it, this is a perverse act." They made me cry. But then I would sleep a bit, go to school, and the cycle would start over again the next night.

Speaking of school, my year as an 8th grader at St. Mary the Immaculate had started with little fanfare. Although I was now in the top class of the private middle school I had nothing to show for it. As I'd feared that incredible weekend of my 13th birthday, Melissa had fallen into Jody's bitchy little clique, leaving me with no friends. Though the quiet girl would sometimes still talk to me if Jody wasn't around, I had absolutely no use for her if she wasn't willing to be my friend full time. Nor did I have any interest in making other friends. All I wanted to do every day was go home, run upstairs to my bedroom, and masturbate myself stupid whilst reading the porno magazines I'd started purchasing at the Silver Star Liquor store. A good climax before fixing dinner for my dad and brothers always seemed justified. But how could I have a good climax if I hung out with girls my age? Most of the girls at St. Mary's were either boring as hell (which happened to be the image I cultivated for myself), or bitchy as hell. I lost interest in them. Friends became an afterthought and my new porno magazines, along with my dogs, became the priorities in my life.

The porno mags that had stories in them were my favorite. Pictures were great for when I was so close to orgasm that I needed to concentrate on my pussy but the stories really got me in the mood. I found that the stories served as an amplifier to my normal state of sexual arousal and I loved the feeling they gave me. I especially liked the ones written from the female point of view, too. Some of the things these women wrote about just shocked me to the core. And that got me hot. I quickly learned that the more something shocked me, the more intrigued I became by it. Crazy as it sounds I had turned into a just barely 13-year-old who considered straight-up lesbian sex "vanilla". Throw in some serious fisting, on the other hand? Well, I'd read that story over and over again.

The guys at the Silver Star knew me well by now as I was up to smoking about a pack every other day. That was definitely my second biggest addiction: nicotine. This was another risky behavior I'd adopted. If my dad found out about that, I knew full well, he'd kill me. But it was so much fun! And there was a bus stop not far from the store so I could stop by there basically every day after school. Walking home from there gave me ample time to smoke, gave me an opportunity to soak in the stares of passersby, and allowed me to avoid getting off the bus with Jody and her minions at our neighborhood stop. It was a totally win-win situation.

Whenever I entered the Silver Star I'd wave to whoever was working with a smile on my face, then shudder delightfully as I felt their eyes glue onto my body. Except for on weekends I was always wearing my school uniform and the stares I got from wearing it always made me feel good. I no longer thought of that uniform as drab and boring. Sure, the colors were all grays and black and white, but I had noticed that since my body had developed over the summer I got a lot of appreciative stares while sauntering around in it. The pleated gray skirt along with the white shirt and matching knee-high socks seemed to really turn men on. I guess the innocent nature of a little girl's school uniform, contrasted by my developing curves and perky little breasts, made me look sexy in a forbidden sort of way. The more I noticed men liking it the more I liked wearing it, too. The only problem was having to unbutton the darn shirt so that I could flash my tits for the men at the Star. It made the process take longer, but that wasn't too big a deal. I no longer got nervous baring my chest for these strangers and, in fact, it gave me a wonderful thrill to engage in such exhibitionism. And since I'd taken to buying the bras that clasp in the front, showing my naked tits was actually easier in that sense. Front clasping bras, I learned, made life a lot easier in a myriad of ways.

One day after leaving the Silver Star I lit up a cigarette and found myself staring across the street at Blue Moon Video. I hadn't been in there since the Saturday I'd first fucked the dogs and I was trying to decide if I should finally return the movie I had rented that wonderful night. The owner of the store had said I could return it "in my own due time" but it was going on two months now. November was fast approaching and the leaves had already fallen from the trees. It made me feel guilty that I'd held onto the movie for so long. I guess I'd been holding onto it in the hope that I'd get another chance to watch it, but in my heart of hearts I knew those chances were slim. When my dad wasn't around at least one of my brothers always was. Without a TV in my own room I had no privacy. I pondered for a moment if I should finally give it back, my heart aching at the thought of losing such a filthy and exciting possession. With a sigh I finally flicked my cigarette away and headed across the street to the video store. It was time to let go of "Group Girls 2".

I kept the movie hidden in my backpack since I knew it was the last place my dad or brothers would ever invade my privacy. My bedroom was fair game, as was my purse, and I'd found the top drawer of my bureau (where I kept my underwear) disheveled on several occasions over the last six weeks or so. But no one had any interest in spying on what my latest homework assignments were.

I kept my porn magazines in the bag too but there was another reason for that. Having porn mags available whenever I needed them was a convenience. Sometimes at school I would get really hot and bothered thinking of the dogs, or of Amy, or of whatever. When I got so worked up from these perverted thoughts that I couldn't concentrate on class anymore, well, I simply had to cum. I couldn't resist it. But masturbating in a Catholic school's girls bathroom isn't as easy as you might think. I would sit there in a stall, fingering myself, and then hear another girl in the bathroom start talking about God. Or family. Or tests. Such mundane things always crushed my libido and made it hard for me to climax. Having a good porno magazine on hand to rub-off to always set me straight. Besides, it was kinda hot to masturbate to a hard-core porn magazine whilst listening to other girls my age (or younger) gossip about whatever from the other side of my stall.

As I stared at the video store I was glad I'd kept that DVD hidden in amongst my porn mags and school textbooks. It really was time to return it, I realized, and the parking lot in front of Blue Moon Video was empty.

I went inside the store and smiled when I saw the owner walking down one of the aisles toward the front. When he saw me waving happily to him he smiled, too, and came waddling over in that slow, precise way he had. He didn't look any different than he had the last time I had seen him, though I suppose he had lost some weight. He still had a good sized spare tire around his midsection, don't get me wrong, but his button-up shirt seemed to be hanging a bit more loosely on his pear-shaped frame. He also looked a little pale, as though he'd been sick or something, but he didn't sound under the weather at all when he greeted me.

"Becky, ahh, Becky Sullivan!" his voice boomed.

"Heya!" I said, fluttering my lashes and smiling. "What's up?"

"Oh, you know," he shrugged as he drank in my visage with a head-to-toe stare. He walked around to the other side of the counter and leaned heavily against it and sighed. "Internet rentals are killing me, ahh, you know how it is. How are things? Did you, ahh, have school today or are you just dressing up special for me, now?"

I giggled. I had become much more comfortable playing the flirt over the last couple of months, though I hadn't had a ton of practice. I didn't often get the opportunity to speak with members of the opposite sex, except for at home of course, but there I was a meek and obedient daughter and sister and never a flirty teen. But I guess that with the dogs to satisfy me sexually, the long walks home from Silver Star to soak in leering eyes, and all the porn I'd been reading had caused me to become more comfortable with my sexuality. I think that if a cute boy had walked up to me and struck up a conversation I would have been awkward and insecure, but flirting with people who I knew I would never have sex with came easy now. People like the guys at the Silver Star, for instance, or this man who owned the video store whose name I still didn't know.

After blushing gracefully at the man's remark I slipped my backpack off and put it on the counter. "I have that movie you let me rent," I said quietly with a grin. "I'm really sorry I kept it so long!"

"Nonsense!" he bellowed. "I told you to, ahh, keep it, as long as you liked. Did you like it?"

I gave him a mischievous smile. The day after my first night with the dogs I had watched the movie again and had decided that the second scene was my favorite. It was the only scene in which the woman, a tall and skinny brunette, actually appeared to be in more pain than pleasure when she was getting reamed in either hole by the three men. That scene more than any of the others had made me lament the fact that my dad and brothers had returned home the next day. It was the scene that had made me so reluctant to return the movie since I'd been dying to see it again. Lowering my voice I said, "Act Two was the coolest thing I ever saw!"

"Ahh, the brunette," he replied in his normal speaking voice. "When the big fella is fucking her in the ass it looks like she's going to start crying, don't it?"

My smiling face quickly turned into a worried one. I began scanning around the video-store, feeling nervous. When I'd spoken with him before about the movie he'd "accidentally" rented to me we'd talked in hushed tones and were careful not to mention anything specific about what kind of movies we were talking about. It was a game I'd been surprisingly good at, a game I'd enjoyed playing. But he wasn't playing it now.

He saw the concern on my face and made a dismissive gesture with his meaty hand. "Don't worry, no one else is, ahh, here," he said. "I had to let go of, ahh, Roger a few weeks ago."

"What about customers?" I asked, more worried about them than the store employee I'd only ever seen once.

"Don't I wish," he chuckled. "Don't, ahh, worry about it, we're all alone." He grinned and winked at me. "So, you come for another, ahh, movie? I have one I bet would knock those pretty socks of yours right off."

"N-no," I said slowly. I wasn't feeling very flirtatious anymore. Hearing him talk about the movie like that had done more than ruined our little game. It was awkward, suddenly, to know he knew what I'd watched, and what had been my favorite part, without the euphemisms to hide behind.

"Why not?" he asked. "Free of charge if that's your, ahh, worry."

"No, it's not that," I said, chewing on my lower lip now. "It's just, I don't have any place to watch 'em. I was alone that weekend but I never am now and I don't have my own TV and..."

"Hah!" he interrupted me, "you must be the only, ahh, teenager in America without a TV in their room!" I smiled nervously and nodded. Then he leaned in a bit closer and said in a conspiratorial voice, "Tell ya what, though. I've got a, ahh, TV all set up in back. You can use it whenever you want."

My heart began to flutter. "Really?" I asked.

"Sure," he said. "In fact I have something, ahh, special back there right now. You wanna go see?"

I frowned. It was a very tempting offer. I hadn't seen a porn movie since that Sunday night before my dad returned home with my brothers. The porn magazines were great with their pictures and stories but actually being able to see live-action sex was definitely what I preferred. But even so my brain was telling me this was a bad idea and that I should just leave. My pussy, though, was throbbing with desire and he plainly saw the temptation in my large blue eyes.

"Come on," he said reassuringly, as though it was no big deal for a 13-year-old girl to go into the back room of a video store and watch hard core pornography with a 40-something man. "I can lock up for a few minutes to get you, ahh, situated. Then you can stay as long as you like. It's employees only back there so, ahh, no one will bother you."

No! No! No! the logical part of my brain was screaming, but his offer was irresistible to my hormone-driven mind. What could be the harm? it said. He brings you back there, shows you how to use the remote control, and then you can watch some good porn in privacy. It'll be great!

My pussy agreed with that logic, and that was that. After a momentary pause I found myself bobbing my head up and down, my golden hair bouncing around my head as I shyly said, "Well, okay..."

It didn't take him long to lock the front door and flip over the "Be Right Back" sign on the door, and soon I was walking side by side with him down the aisle to the back of the store. He was acting very casual, chatting about innocuous things like the weather and stopping a couple times to adjust a DVD on a shelf or something. I just gripped my backpack, which was slung over one shoulder, and smiled and nodded nervously as he talked. I was afraid that if I heard my own voice again I'd lose my nerve or something and I wanted so desperately for this to work out. It would mean I'd have a place to watch porn movies again, and so what if some creepy old pervert knew I was masturbating in the back of his store? It was a little embarrassing but sort of hot, too. I mean, if exposing me to hard-core pornography was what got him off how did that possibly affect me? He got his jollies, I got my porn, and we'd both be happy. The arrangement seemed so simple and awesome that I was actually counting myself lucky.

He unlocked the "Employees Only" door with a key and then walked in ahead of me. Taking a little breath, I followed. The room was dimly lit, a lone fluorescent light fixture above flickering eerily as though it was going to burn out in any minute. Around the perimeter of the room were wire shelving units, every shelf of which was packed tight with obsolete VHS tapes, cardboard boxes, and old rolled-up movie posters. Directly in front of me was a long folding table piled high with empty DVD cases and messy stacks of paperwork. On the other side of the table was an old ratty recliner which sat in front of the promised television set. It wasn't nearly as nice a set as the one we had at home but it was a good size and anyway, beggars can't be choosers. It wouldn't be like at home, obviously, but it was still going to be great!

Yes, great. It was going to be awesome. But why was I so nervous?

I let my heavy backpack slump off my shoulder to the floor and then followed him around the long table to where the TV was. He was apologizing for the light, saying he kept meaning to replace that fluorescent tube, but did I know how much of a pain in the ass it was to replace those things? I just shrugged and nodded. I was standing next to the old, patched-up recliner and watching as he rummaged around inside a box next to the television set. He was mumbling, "Let's see, let's see," and then finally said, "Ahh! Here it is." He put a disc into the DVD player and then stood up and turned to face me. The flickering greenish light made his pale skin look a little creepy but he was all smiles as he said, "Alright, now I think you're going to, ahh, really like this."

He sat down heavily in the recliner, which seemed way too small for him, and turned the television set on with a remote. Isn't that supposed to be my seat? the logical part of my mind wondered. But the horny part of my brain decided, He's fat and old and needs to rest while he shows you the remote. Just relax!

After fumbling with the remote for a moment he grinned at me. "Now watch this," he said in a mirthful tone of voice.

No DVD movie menu splashed across the screen, nor did any FBI copyright warnings or anything like that. When he hit play on the remote there was just a brief pause before the screen was filled with the image of a bed in what appeared to be a cheap motel room. The production quality wasn't nearly as good as the other two porn movies I'd seen. There were no credits, and no soundtrack, or anything like that. What there was, though, was an image of a girl not much older than me laying back on the bed wearing nothing but a grown man's t-shirt. She was reading what appeared to be a porno magazine with an indifferent expression on her young face.

My heart caught in my throat at the sight of her. She couldn't be much older than 14, I figured, or 15 at the absolute oldest. I could feel my pulse quicken as I realized what kind of movie this was. Not just a porn movie, but a porn movie starring a girl! Not a full grown woman but a girl like me. I'd never heard of such a thing. Instinctively I knew it was wrong, and probably illegal, but I felt my nipples harden anyway.

I must have made some kind of sound because the video store owner looked up at me from his sitting position and smiled. "Wait, ahh, it gets better."

And it did. The girl, who was very pretty with long dark hair and incredible eyes, suddenly closed the magazine and placed it on a nightstand next to her. Then she sat up in the bed and pulled off her top without any fanfare. Her breasts were larger than mine, a good c-cup in size I thought, and her body was clearly more developed, too. Her tits were capped with big brown nipples and her long slender legs were nearing the end of their maturation. I decided then that she had to be at least 15 but she could have just been a well developed 14-year-old. It was hard to pin-point an exact age but her incredible youth was obvious, especially in her eyes. The expression in them was blank but there was a youthful innocence there, too, that can't be faked by adults. She leaned back into her pillows again and spread her legs apart, bringing her feet back so that her pussy was fully exposed. For the first time the camera moved, zooming in slowly to her vagina as her slender fingers began to play with herself down there. Her pussy was hairless and sort of puffy and I found myself squeezing my legs together involuntarily. The girl's fingers were gently pulling aside the lips of her young cunt and holding it open for the inspection of the camera.

I didn't even notice that the video store owner had gently put his left arm around my hip. Even when his hand began to wander, going down the front of my left thigh over my skirt, it was only the vaguest sensation way off in the distance. I was too enraptured with the image of a girl not much older than me showing off her wares in front of a camera to pay attention to anything else. And when the camera zoomed back again so that the entire bed was once more in view I felt my legs begin to shake. Because the man who had been operating the camera, which was evidently on a tripod, suddenly stepped into the frame.

He was a large man with a hairy chest wearing absolutely nothing except for what looked like an old fashioned executioner's hood over his head. As the girl continued to hold open her puffy labia she looked at him with an expressionless face. He slowly walked over to the side of the bed, sat down on it, and said one word: "Now." The girl knew what he meant. She crawled around over to him and obediently draped her thin body over his lap. Loud slapping sounds were heard next as he began to spank her. For the first time the girl made a sound, gasping in pain soon after the man started to punish her pale young behind.

My legs went weak as the hooded man brutally spanked the girl's ass. Memories of my father spanking me not that long ago made me whimper audibly as I struggled to remain standing. I felt weak, the eroticism of what I was seeing sapping me of all my strength. When the video store owner began pulling me over to him I offered no resistance. He pulled me down into his lap, his thick arm still around my waist as his right hand now began to gently, just barely, touch my right thigh. I could feel something hard underneath my little butt and in the recesses of my brain I knew that the video store owner had a hard on. I didn't care. I didn't care that I was sitting on this ugly man's lap, that I was sitting on his covered erection, that his right hand was sliding up and down my thigh and pulling my skirt up higher with every motion. All I could do was breathe heavily as I watched the girl on the video cry in front of me, her long dark hair obstructing her face but her choking sobs clearly audible.

It was the first time I'd ever seen an amateur video. It was the first time I'd ever seen kiddie porn. And it had me in such a trance that the fact I was being groped by the strange and ugly video store owner didn't even register. At first.

The hooded man began to turn the girl around in his lap after spanking her for awhile. He placed the soft, whimpering girl on her knees between his hairy legs and commanded her to suck him off. Just as she began to obey the video store owner finally placed his meaty hand directly on the skin of my thigh. That's when I realized he'd tugged my pleated skirt up all the way to my waist. I finally looked down and it looked almost as though I was wearing nothing but my panties, my smooth, soft legs pressed together and completely bare down to my knee-high socks. Reality began to settle in at that moment. The owner's hand was caressing my thigh, moving slowly toward my panties covered mound. Underneath my butt I could feel the outline of his erection throbbing and his left hand suddenly placed itself over my left breast.

"See?" he rasped quietly in my ear, "I knew you'd, ahh, like this..."

He had no intention of leaving me alone to enjoy the porno movie by myself, I realized just then. My body finally tensed up at the sensation of his hands on me. It should have been obvious from the start but I'd naively chosen to trust him. My stupid young brain hadn't been able to overrule my horny young cunt and now this gross, ugly man was touching me. Molesting me! And what he wanted became glaringly obvious.

The movie forgotten, I debated what I should do. Allow him to keep groping me like this? That seemed safe in a way but I now knew exactly where that would lead. And despite what I had been doing with the dogs I still considered myself a virgin, safe from God's judgement on that count at least. As crazy as it sounds I considered sex with a man more taboo and wicked than sex with Marshall, Patton, and the rest of my dad's mastiffs. It had been ingrained in me at school and at church: when a man entered a woman they became one flesh in the eyes of God, joined together for all time as man and wife. I mean, I had to look up the sin of bestiality myself, but the sin of sex before marriage had been ingrained in my for years! And the thought of being this fat ugly man's wife scared me more than even his groping hands did at that moment, and I took action accordingly.

I jumped up from his lap, nearly falling over as I broke free from his gentle hold. "Stop, stop!" I cried. "Let me go!"

I was both confused and scared at this point. I didn't understand how had I gotten into such an intimate position with this man without even noticing. I couldn't even remember sitting down in his lap. I took some nervous steps backward away from him as I glanced around the room in a panic, not sure what to do, not even sure what was going on anymore.

The video store owner glared at me, then, and there was nothing jovial or casual about the expression on his face. The look he was giving me turned my fear into genuine terror. As the fluorescent light flickered above he gave me a cold, evil looking stare as slurping sounds from the video filled the room around us. The only other sound I could hear at that moment was the pounding of my own heart and his heavy breathing.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he said in a cold, menacing voice. "Get back over here. Now!"

I was shaking from my head to my toes and was on the verge of tears. For whatever reason, though, his commanding voice almost made me take a step forward. I stopped myself, though, and shrieked, "NO!"

And then I ran. He grabbed at me as I sprang forward but I was too quick. I nearly stumbled as I scampered around the long folding table, my dress shoes clacking against the concrete floor as I moved with all the speed I could muster. The door wasn't far but in my panicked state it seemed a world away. Behind me I could hear the man cursing and moving toward me as the slurping sounds from the video continued. I seemed to be moving in slow motion as step after step brought me closer to freedom. My tiny hands were outstretched, grasping for the doorknob well before they touched it. And when they did I had this brief surge of hope in my chest. All I had to do was turn it and the door would open up into the safety of the well lit store and there was no way he could do anything to me out there, I thought. I was almost free.