Dog Who Owned Me

by Rachael Ross

Rachael Ross 1982 - 2012

Bestiality Sex Story: When a stray dog follows Lisa home, the young woman has no idea that the animal intends to make her his personal bitch.

Caution: This Bestiality Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Reluctant   Bestiality   .

My life changed on a Friday, just after I'd turned eighteen and recently moved into a new life. That's how I liked to think of it. After leaving the modest village where I'd grown up, I'd moved to the modest town where I'd be attending community college. I wanted to be a graphic artist or something, I wasn't really sure, but I liked art and I was kind of good at it anyway. So those were the kind of classes I took while I worked part-time at Sears, dressing mannequins and putting up decorations and displays, stuff like that.

It wasn't a bad job, even if it only paid for my rent and just enough food to keep me from starving. My parents sent me a little every month and I'd be okay, except I was lonely. I mean, it was a new town and I didn't really know anyone except my landlady. She was an older woman, divorced, and renting out the small apartment above her garage. It wasn't much, but I could afford it and the hard part had been convincing her to let me have the place.

"You're not a hussy, are you?" she'd asked me, and I'd blinked and reddened and wondered how anyone could be that rude.

"N-No ma'am," I stammered. "I'm, uh ... I've never ... I don't..."

"Hmph," she snorted, looking me up and down.

I found myself wishing I'd worn something other than my ragged cut-offs and the little pink t-shirt that showed off my belly button. This had been during the summer though, the dog days of August, and just standing in the shade of her front porch had been hot enough to make me sweat. I sure wasn't going to walk around town dressed in my Sunday best and it wasn't my fault that I'd grown up to be more than a little attractive to most folks. My landlady, the Widow Perkins, was the sort of old woman who found that suspicious, like beautiful was just trouble waiting to happen.

"I'm a virgin," I'd confessed later that long afternoon, blushing all the more because a thing like that wasn't anyone's business but my own. "I don't even have a boyfriend anymore."

"What happened to him?" the Widow asked, peering down her nose with cold, grey eyes like I might have buried him in my backyard.

"He joined the army," I answered, quite truthfully. "They closed the mill and there aren't a lot of jobs back home, so..."

"You look like a hussy to me," she declared. "I'm not surprised the boy run off."

"I'm sorry, Ma'am." I looked down and frowned at my rather large, firm breasts and kicked myself mentally for not wearing a bra at least. "I guess I'll be going and, um ... Thank you for the lemonade and everything."

"Hold on now, Missy..." The old women had changed her mind, perhaps realizing that I really wasn't any sort of hussy at all, but only a girl fresh out of high school looking for a chance.

"Thank you so much." I smiled and signed the simple rental agreement half an hour later, giving Mrs. Perkins very nearly all the cash I'd brought with me. I wouldn't be moving in yet, I'd go back home and get my things first, but I was moving for sure and I felt pretty nervous and somewhat relieved.

"I'll be keeping an eye on you," she warned me. "And you'd best keep an eye on some of the boys around here."


"You might want to cover yourself up some," the Widow said with a cluck of her tongue, looking up and down my long legs which just as tanned and toned as the rest of me.

"Yes, Ma'am." I nodded seriously, pulling some blonde hair out of my blue eyes.

I won't pretend any false modesty because I know what I look like, but I'd learned to deal with boys and even full grown men. My old boyfriend, the one in the army, had tried hard and often to get into my panties, but I'd managed to fend him off. A little kissing was nice and occasionally his hands would wander to find my breasts, but that was as far as we'd gone for the two years we'd dated. My sex drive had never been much to brag about, unlike some of the girls I'd known in school. Doing more than kissing just didn't interest me a whole lot, although I'd been sorely tempted to give my boyfriend a little more than that as he'd gotten closer to shipping off for boot camp.

I'd ended up giving him a hand job in the backseat of his daddy's car. That had been the first and only time I'd seen an erection in my life, and certainly the only time I'd ever touched one! I hadn't done a very good job of jerking him off probably, but he hadn't complained and I did kiss him nice and let him play with my tits through my sweater. When he started cumming it had surprised me, just because I'd had no idea what to expect really. It had seemed kind of disgusting and I'd wiped that stuff off my fingers in a hurry.

That was the full extent of my sexual expertise as I walked home from work late one Friday evening.

"Oh!" I stopped walking as a shadowy figure crossed the sidewalk in front of me.

It was a dog, I realized, and a large one too, although I couldn't say for certain what breed it might have been. I'd never owned a dog, but of course I knew people who did and I wasn't afraid of them or anything. At least, not the nice ones, you know. This dog seemed nice enough, since he was largely ignoring me. He'd crossed the path in front of me and found an old maple tree, sniffing around it while I watched and then relieving himself the way dogs do.

I stood there for a moment and then started walking again. I'd seen several dogs around the neighborhood in the few weeks I'd been living there, but I didn't remember seeing this one before. Not that I should have, I mean. He was just a dog. So long as he wasn't rabid or anything, I felt pretty content to let him go his way while I walked the last couple blocks to my apartment above the Widow's garage.

"Nice doggy," I said, feeling suddenly nervous as he approached me. "Good boy. Uh ... Go home now. Go on."

When I'd started walking, he'd lifted his head at the clicking of my heels on the sidewalk. Even though I was just an assistant in the Sears art department, I still had to wear the uniform that all the sales girls wore in case a customer happened to see me. That wasn't so bad anyway, being a modest blue skirt and matching blazer with a white blouse. I thought it looked kind of nice and I wore a pair of sheer pantyhose and my underwear too, of course. And close-toed shoes, cheap ones from Pay-Less in black leather with two inch heels. I had my purse and being early autumn, the evenings were wonderfully cool, but hardly cold.

Anyway, the dog had noticed me and then he'd come walking over as I'd stopped once again. I seemed to remember hearing that you shouldn't run from a dog for some reason, or maybe that's bears, but either way I'd stopped moving. I remained very still and when he came close enough I extended my left hand slowly, trying not to show any fear. He was a big dog though, as I said, his shoulders reached my hips and his head nearly to my breasts as he stood there. His legs were thick and he looked healthy, very strong and muscular beneath his dark fur, and his eyes seemed to glow amber beneath the streetlights.

"Nice doggy," I repeated as he bent his nose to my fingers, sniffing at them and even giving my hand a cautious lick. I swallowed hard as I saw his teeth, long and sharp as his rough, wet tongue slipped between them.

After a few seconds of that, he stepped even closer and I felt a small jolt of adrenaline, a shot of genuine fear as the dog pressed his nose to my left leg just below the knee. He sniffed me there and lifted his head, dragging his nose up my stocking until he reached the hem of my skirt.

"Stop," I said, but not forcefully. I cleared my throat as his nose went under my skirt, actually lifting it slightly as the animal continued to explore my leg.

"No!" I said, taking a step backward and then another as he stood there. "Go home!"

He ignored that and I looked over my shoulder as the animal circled me slowly. He sniffed at the back of my knees and the under my skirt again, with his snout reaching for my butt, and I swatted at him nervously. I started walking away and the dog watched me for a moment, and then turned his head as if looking around. The night was very quiet though; except for me, there was little to occupy his attention. He started following, not quickly, but matching my pace and staying perhaps a dozen feet behind me all the way to my apartment.

Naturally, I felt pretty nervous by then. A strange dog had followed me home, a very large one, and I wasn't sure why. I'd never been the sort of girl who collected pets or anything. I'd had a cat, but she hadn't been much of a pet. Cats rarely are, in my opinion. I'd had a goldfish too, but there isn't a lot you can do with a fish, except forget to feed it once too often and then give it a tearful burial down the toilet. So this was a new experience, being followed by a dog. I felt nervous and even a little frightened perhaps, but at the same time, I think most people would understand when I say that seeing a stray pet tugs at the heart strings.

I mean, there's a natural affinity between humans and certain animals, like dogs, for example. I suspected that he was probably lonely, and hungry too, and maybe lost. A large dog like that must belong to someone, even without a collar to prove it. He certainly looked healthy enough and didn't stink of garbage or anything like that. The dog was reasonably clean and well groomed. So I figured someone must be missing him and he hadn't barked at me, or even growled. I wouldn't say he acted overly friendly, definitely not playful or whatever, but he wasn't being mean either.

So, I did what most people would do under the circumstances. I climbed the stairs to my apartment, unlocked my door, and looked down to see the dog sitting patiently on the paved driveway staring up at me. He even wagged his tail when he saw my face, I swear. Just a little wag, nothing too enthusiastic, but I had to smile at that. He seemed to smile back at me, but of course he didn't. That would only be my own loneliness asserting itself, because it had turned out to be a bit harder living alone in a strange, new town than I'd expected.

"Okay." I patted my thigh. "You want something to eat?"

That invitation seemed to be all the dog was waiting for and he climbed the stairs slowly, bobbing his head up and down and wagging his tail from side to side. He seemed to be pretty well-trained, I thought, or maybe well-mannered is a better way to say it. Do dogs have manners? I guess they do, judging from the way this one was acting. He didn't run or bark, and I was glad of that because I wasn't entirely sure if I could have a dog in my apartment or not. I'd have to check my lease, but I wasn't keeping him anyway. This would be a one night deal and then I'd find his owner and get him back to where he belonged.

That was my plan anyway.

"You're going to be a good dog, right?" I asked him, closing the door after he'd walked into the apartment.

He wagged his tail and looked around, sniffing the air.

I had a small place, no doubt about it. Just inside the front, and only, door was the living room, which was also my dining room and bedroom all in one. The apartment had come furnished with old, but comfortable furniture. I slept on a hide-away sofa, except it had become kind of annoying to pull the bed out and put it back everyday, so mostly I slept on the sofa and left the bed folded up inside it. I had a couple end tables with lamps, a coffee table that I used for a dining table since I was using that for a desk and all my homework sat on it. A small television on a small stand and a bookcase with old, worn paperbacks and magazines from twenty years before I'd been born completed the room.

Surprisingly, my landlady had installed a full bathroom with a real bathtub, which seemed to waste a lot of space, but I was glad to have it. I've always liked taking baths more than showers. And I had a kitchen crowded with a refrigerator and a two burner stove, and just enough counter space for my toaster oven. It had been a present from my only brother. A toaster oven. I guess it was probably a good idea, and I did use it a lot, but that had been about the last thing I'd ever expected to get for my eighteenth birthday the previous June.

"No collar, huh?" I frowned at the dog as I kicked off my shoes. "Okay, let's see what we've got. Are you hungry?"

That was a silly question. All dogs are hungry, right? I felt kind of hungry myself and I didn't have a whole lot of food in my refrigerator, but I had some pot pies in the freezer. I figured one of those would probably make him happy. They aren't really that tasty, but they are cheap, and so I turned on the oven to preheat it and that would take ten minutes or so.

"Hey! Uh ... Okay, nice dog..." I blinked over my shoulder as the animal startled me, pushing his nose once more to the back of my knee.

He gave my leg a lick through the sheer panty hose I wore and then surprised me with a soft growl. I frowned and turned around to face him. He really was very large and his presence made the kitchen seem even smaller than it was. I felt my heart picking up speed and I hitched a sharp breath as the dog's nose pushed its way between my thighs and up, under my skirt.

"Stop that!" I told him, scolding the animal and reluctantly pushing my hands against his thick neck. "Be nice! Good doggy, remember?"

I really hoped he wouldn't bite me or something. I didn't try to grab him, but only pushed the dog back. He surprised me by not resisting at all. He let me push him away, giving me his amber eyes and a curious cock of his head. He licked his lips, or whatever dogs have, and stood there while I tried to figure out what I was going to do with a dog that was nearly as big as I was. Actually, the dog was probably bigger than me, if you think about it in practical terms.

He must have weighed somewhere around 125 pounds, maybe even more than that, while I was all of 110 soaking wet. If he'd stood on his hind legs, the dog probably could have looked me in the eyes, or close to it. I'm about 5'6" barefoot and just because I stood on two feet instead of four, I didn't feel superior to the animal. Not at all.

I was rather intimidated by him actually, simply because he was large and plainly very muscular, very athletic, if you can imagine such a thing. I could see his muscles ripple beneath his short, black fur when he moved and I imagined this was the sort of dog that had been bred for hunting or something like that. He didn't seem to be the sort of pet who would be content to lie down all day at his owner's feet, put it that way. And not only because he was so strong, but the look on his face, the steady gaze of his amber eyes ... He had some strange confidence, it seemed to me. The dog wasn't afraid of me, he wasn't intimidated, and I got the impression that he was just kind of observing me, you know? Like maybe he was trying to figure out what to do with me.

But that didn't make any sense and I dismissed my thoughts immediately, walking around him and out of the kitchen. I wanted to change clothes as I'd been wearing my Sears outfit for some six hours already, and my bra was annoying and my feet hurt, and I really wanted to take a bath. Once I got the pot pies in the oven I'd have forty minutes to relax in the tub and then we could eat and watch some television maybe and just go to sleep. That seemed like a good idea to me anyway.

"What's your name, boy?" I wondered, looking at the dog as he sat down on the thin carpet, content to watch me as I removed my blazer. "I have to call you something, huh?"

He just looked at me, his heavy tail thumping on the floor as I spoke. He seemed to like the attention, as anyone would, I supposed.

"How about Jack?" I wondered with a smile. "You're black anyway."

The dog didn't seem to care and I draped my blazer over the sofa and started unbuttoning my blouse.

"I guess it doesn't matter, does it?" I said. "We'll get you home tomorrow."

The next day, Saturday, was a day off for me. I didn't have school or work on the weekends and that would have been nice, but for the fact that I really had nothing better to do. Weekends, at least my first few in that new town, were rather boring. I guess that's obvious though, since I was spending my Friday night cooking chicken pot pies and talking to a dog. Too much of that, I thought, and I'd be ready for the funny farm.

"Don't look, okay?" I laughed lightly, getting another wag as I removed my blouse from my slender shoulders.

He did look though, and strange as it may seem, I felt somewhat self-conscious standing there in my bra. I still had my skirt on, of course, and my pantyhose, but from the waist up I wore only the thin white lace of my bra and the dog was staring at me with his curious amber eyes. Intelligent eyes, I thought for no particular reason, except he reminded me somehow of the men back home who'd stared at me as I'd walk by. I'd never been comfortable with that sort of attention. The hungry, desperate gaze of the boys in school, and even some of their fathers as I walked around town, had always made me feel small and vulnerable.

The dog reminded me of them, but I didn't know why. I tried to laugh it off. He was only a dog, an animal, and perhaps he wanted some dinner and a scratch behind the ears later, a warm place to sleep on the floor. But he was only a dog and I felt silly worrying over his watchful interest. I reached behind me to find the clasp of my bra and undid it easily, so that the shoulder straps were immediately loose and the cups only barely covered my breasts.

He licked across his sharp teeth and cocked his head in that curious way I'd seen before, and I realized his eyes weren't on my face any longer. They had been, while I'd spoken to him, but now he was looking lower, staring at my partially exposed breasts. With my naturally thin build they look larger than they really are. My breasts are firm too, proud and topped with dark nipples that could be difficult to hide at times. My boobs had certainly earned me more attention than I'd been comfortable with back home. Even now, around college and at the store where I worked. I'd gotten some long, lingering looks from strangers and I'd ignored them, but I couldn't have expected such a thing from a dog!

He was looking at my tits, I was sure of it, and I had no idea why. I'll admit I'm no expert on dogs, but I'm no dummy either. Perhaps it was just my bra, the way it fell loose and probably looked odd to the animal. The movement probably caught his attention, I thought, but even so I felt myself warming all over. I turned my back to him without really thinking about it, except no man had ever seen my breasts naked. He wasn't a man though, I reminded myself, just a dog. All the same, I felt very shy suddenly and I didn't like his eyes on me, so I turned and considered undressing in the bathroom.

The silliness of my mood is what stopped me. It's one thing to be embarrassed, but quite another to have no reason for it. I felt kind of stupid actually and I rolled my eyes at myself. The dog was looking at me, so what? Was I some sort of male-phobe, or whatever the correct word for being afraid of males might be, did I fear men so much that it extended to dogs? No. I wasn't afraid of men. I merely had little interest in them, aside from my boyfriend, and he'd been ... What?

"Expected," I sighed, trying to forget the dog behind me as I pulled my bra off my arms.

"You're the prettiest girl in school," my mom had told me more than once. "I don't know what's wrong with you."

"When are you going to get a boyfriend?" my dad wondered, having mixed feelings on the subject. He didn't want me to have one, but he wanted me to want one, you know?

He'd been happy enough that I'd shown no interest in dating, until it became peculiar. People wondered about me, being sixteen and very pretty and without so much as a single date to my name. And so I'd gotten a boyfriend, a nice one, and a boy I knew to be harmless. It had been fun and I'd enjoyed our two years together, our junior and senior years in high school, but I'd kept him at an arm's length all the while. He'd talked of marriage just before leaving for the army and I'd shaken my head at that.

Someday, sure. I wanted a husband and children, but not yet. I didn't know what I wanted. I had to figure out who I was first, that's what I was thinking, and why I'd left home and found my own place. My own job and a new school. I didn't feel like an adult, you know? I was still waiting for the lightning to strike, the big idea that would tell me who I was supposed to be and what I was supposed to do with my life. The waiting was the hard part, the frustrating part, and I shook my head as I reached for the clasp of my skirt.

Silly me.

I unzipped my blue skirt, stepping out of it and folding it carefully so I could wear it again on Monday. I only had the one outfit and I needed to buy another one, but even with my associate's discount, the skirt and blazer were sort of expensive. Sears had docked my first paycheck to cover the clothes and I still frowned at that, as did most of the employees I'd met.

"Woof!" The dog spoke up for the first time since I'd met him and I looked over my shoulder.

"What's the matter?" I asked, standing now in pantyhose and nothing else.

He merely wagged his tail, watching me from his spot on the floor.

My pantyhose were of a cheap sort, hardly fancy, and if you've seen one pair, you've seen them all. The waistband was rather tight, but otherwise they were comfortable enough. They were sheer enough that my receding tan could easily be seen. I liked wearing shorts during the summer and so my legs were bronzed up to a point on my thighs just a few inches shy of my butt. The color gave way gradually to my normal pale skin tone and then I was brown again on my tummy and back and shoulders, except where my bikini top had covered my breasts. The bottom of my swimsuit I'd always covered with shorts, but the top was alright and I'd done most of my sunbathing in the privacy of our backyard anyway.

The pantyhose had a cotton panel, of course, and I didn't wear panties with it. There was no reason to and so my butt was completely exposed through the thin nylon with only a long, dark seam running along the center of my ass, up the crease between my cheeks to the waistband. I felt vaguely uncomfortable then, showing the dog my butt like that, and his mouth was open, his long pink tongue lolling between sharp, white teeth as he stared at me.


His bark confused me and I wasn't sure what it meant.

Approval? I giggled at that idea, but that's the thought that crossed my mind for some reason. I'd removed my skirt and bent over to remove it, showing the animal my pert, round butt and he'd barked then. It seemed very strange and I honestly didn't know what to think of it. A dog couldn't possibly care about my butt, no more than he could about my breasts or anything else. He just wanted attention, I was sure. I'd been looking the other way, turned around and ignoring him, and the dog just wanted to remind me that he was still there. That he was hungry and waiting patiently for his dinner, that's all.

"Let's check that oven," I suggested, leaving my pantyhose on and just running a thumb along the inside of the waistband. I had a little ring around my waist, a pink indentation that itched the way such things inevitably do. But I wasn't going to get completely naked in front of him; silly or not, I just wasn't comfortable with that idea for some reason.

He followed me and I paid the dog little mind as I saw the tiny red light was off, the oven warmed up to 350 degrees. I got the pot pies and found an old cookie sheet, long blackened by use, but clean enough anyway. It was a simple task, not really cooking at all. I opened the oven, bending over to slide the cookie sheet inside with two pot pies on it, you know, when I suddenly felt something poking me in the butt.

"Hey!" I shoved the cookie sheet inside and closed the oven quickly before turning around. "Stop that!"

The dog had pressed his nose low between my butt cheeks, against the cotton liner that covered my sex and little else. I turned around, finding him right there, and he immediately shoved his snout between my thighs, sniffing at my crotch as I tried to push him away.

"Bad dog!" I scolded him, sidestepping and pushing at his neck with my hands. "Don't do that!"

I left the kitchen, looking over my shoulder as I moved towards the bathroom, and he followed me closely. The dog still tried to sniff my butt and I kind of slapped at him, but not hard or anything. I walked quickly to the bathroom, closing the door in the dog's face and taking a deep breath. I hadn't been frightened, not really, but just annoyed and I thought it was probably because he was hungry and I'd gotten a bit sweaty after a long day of school and work. I didn't think I smelled bad or anything, but dogs have much better noses, right? So he probably smelled the salt on my skin or something and that's what caught his attention.

"Arf!" he barked loudly, in a different way than before, I noticed. "Arf! Arf! Arf!" His claws scratched the door and I frowned.

"Shhh! Stop!" I told him through the closed door. "Be quiet!"

"Arf! Arf!" he replied, and the dog wasn't going to stop as he scratched the heck out of the bathroom door.

"Great," I sighed.

His bark seemed very loud and Mrs. Perkins would doubtless hear him soon. I didn't imagine she'd be too happy to find out I had a big dog in my apartment, not without checking with her first. Especially if he destroyed the door. How would I ever be able to afford buying a new one?

I had little choice but to open the door and as soon as I did the dog stopped barking.

"What do you want?" I asked him. "Go lay down or something. I want to take a bath."

Instead of obeying me, the animal went right back to sniffing my crotch. He pushed his nose against the panel covering my pussy so hard that I had to take a step back as I tried to deflect him with my hands.

"Grrrr..." He actually growled as I struggled to push the dog's face away and that made me blink.

"Stop! Shoo! Go away!" I said, wondering if the dog would really bite me and afraid to find out. "Hey! No!"

I felt a knot of fear growing in my tummy as the dog did bite me! Or not me, exactly, but rather he was biting my pantyhose. He grabbed the nylon in his teeth and I could feel those sharp canines as they moved across my barely covered skin. It frightened me terribly and only his deliberate and surprisingly gentle efforts kept the dog from hurting me. I didn't realize it at the time, but plainly the animal didn't mean to cause me any harm, he just didn't like my pantyhose for some reason.

He had the nylon in his teeth and he shook his head, ripping into it and yanking me forward as he pushed himself back. I gasped and nearly lost my balance. and kept telling him "No!" and "Stop!" in a loud, trembling voice, but he paid me no attention. The dog kept pulling, and while the nylon had ripped, and some of the cotton liner as well, it turned out to be amazingly strong stuff. I soon found myself being dragged out of the bathroom by my hips.

To say I felt confused and nervous would be an understatement. My heart was pounding and I could barely breathe. I had an idea to somehow fight him off, but even if I'd been brave enough to try it, and I wasn't, there was little chance of that as I struggled just to stay on my feet! Once he had us in the living room, where there was substantially more space than what he'd had in the bathroom, the dog really gave my pantyhose a good tug!

"Ohhh!" I gasped as I lost my balance completely, the huge dog literally pulling my hips out from under me so that I fell heavily onto my butt.

At that point I started kicking at him, out of instinct more than anything else. I'd been lucky not to crack my head on something, and I was laying on my back for the moment, kicking uselessly and trying to push myself back up with my arms. The dog ignored my protests, however, and shook his head back and forth vigorously, tearing into my pantyhose so that they surrendered much more easily. Within seconds the dog had exposed my pussy completely, with the nylon and cotton hanging ragged around my exposed sex.

"No! Stop! Please!" I said loudly, scrambling backwards like a crab on my heels, but he had no intention of letting me go so easily.

The dog pressed his body between my legs even as I tried to close them. His nose went to my vulva and I clamped my thighs to his head in an effort to keep him from getting any closer to what was undoubtedly my most private and sensitive place. All I could imagine was his sharp teeth biting into my pussy and that painful vision proved quite enough to push me over the edge into a blind panic!

"Grrrr..." he growled unhappily as I squeezed his great head between my legs, and the sound terrified me.

I felt his teeth digging at me, moving against my soft skin. He wasn't actually biting me, it felt more like fingernails scratching at the swell of my mound. The dog was telling me to relax my thighs and let him go, I dimly realized, but being frightened, that was no easy thing for me to do. I'd become afraid to hold him and afraid to let him go, but more than anything else, I was afraid of his teeth!

"Ohhhh ... Please!" I whimpered, spreading my thighs and putting myself at the dog's mercy.

I didn't know what to expect. If he would bite me or simply smell my raw, uncovered sex and satisfy his curiosity. Whatever he would do, I knew I couldn't stop him. I felt helpless. The entire episode had happened so quickly that I felt overwhelmed by it. Everything between opening the bathroom door for the dog and finally surrendering as I opened my legs seemed like a blur. It had only taken a few seconds, half a minute perhaps, and I found myself completely dominated by the animal somehow.

There was no reasoning with him. I couldn't ask why or make any appeal to his better nature, just as the dog couldn't explain what he wanted from me. Everything had become physical, even my emotions. The fear was in my blood as much as my mind. My body trembled and I fought for every breath I could muster beneath my heaving breasts. My fingers scratched at the carpet nervously and my eyes were wide, my nostrils dilated as I could smell the dog's musk. It was an odor I hadn't noticed before, but now the scent of him seemed to fill my nose and mouth so that I could even taste it. A strange flavor fell upon my thick tongue and I realized my mouth was dry and I licked my lips as I watched and felt the dog's tongue slip from his terrible jaws.

"Ahhh..." I shivered as his tongue found my sex, taking a long lick from the bottom of my virgin slit to the very top.

There was no pleasure in it for me. My pussy was dry with fear and my tummy knotted up with almost painful cramps. I forgot to breathe as he licked me again and despite my dread, I pushed myself away from him.

"Grrrrr ... Arf!" he growled and barked, but a different sort than before. Like when he'd been frustrated by the bathroom door? This bark, too, had a different meaning and I froze, blinking into the animal's unwavering stare.

"Okay," I whispered, understanding that he'd just warned me not to move. One sort of bark, the lazy woof sound, meant he wanted my attention. The other kind meant he wanted me to open the door, or maybe just ... come? And now this other kind demanded obedience. Submission? It wasn't a request, it was a command, and I understood that plain as day.

After a long three or four seconds, I lowered my gaze. I was afraid to stare into those intelligent amber eyes and I swallowed hard, knowing instinctively that there was something submissive about it. The simple act of lowering my head, of not challenging his authority over me, is as old as nature itself and we're all born with an understanding of it. I was giving myself to him, struggling to control the fight or flight instinct that filled me. I couldn't fight him. I'd lose, it was as simple as that. I had no weapons, no skills at such a thing, and he'd hurt me if I tried. Likewise I had no chance of escape. I was slow and clumsy by comparison and he'd be on me in an instant.

I had to lay there and control my fear, and hope that he'd be reasonable with me. That he'd be gentle and explore my body or whatever it was he wanted to do, and then leave me alone once he'd satisfied his curiosity. What else could he possibly want with me? I was a human, a girl, and he was an animal. I had nothing he could want but food and shelter, and I was more than willing to give him those. The pot pies were cooking. I'd invited him into my apartment. If only I could explain that to him, I thought. If only he could tell me why he wanted to inspect my naked body.

"Uh-hmmm..." I whimpered and closed my eyes as the dog went back to licking my sex.

He seemed to enjoy that for some reason. That's the only explanation my confused mind could conjure. Pure enjoyment. The animal liked to lick me, but I had no idea why. My pussy was dry. Whatever flavor my skin might have had from sweating must have been quickly removed by his long, rough tongue. But still he licked me, dragging his tongue up my slit over and over. I could feel him getting deeper, slowly and gradually splitting my labia and the tip of his tongue would curl at the top, flicking over my hidden clitoris.

What was he doing? I tried to ignore the sensations, the feel of his tongue moving across my skin like wet sandpaper. The experience was new for me, completely new as I'd never allowed anyone to touch me there. I'd never even touched myself down there for any reason except to wash myself. I'd felt pleasure before, or something like it, but not by design. Never intentionally. But this was different and despite my fear, maybe even because of it, I found myself growing warm inside.

"Mmmm..." I groaned softly as my pussy seemed to come alive, slowly but surely being awakened beneath the animal's endless attentions.

He seemed tireless and patient and oblivious to my discomfort. The dog lapped at my sex with a measured pace born of a calculated and deliberate intent, it seemed to me. His tongue slipped between my labia easily as his saliva covered my tender flesh. My pussy lips were swollen and darker than their usual pink color. I stared at them, as if seeing my sex for the very first time, and my glistening lips seemed to cling to the dog's tongue as he worked the tip against my hymen.

My tummy was still tight, but for a different reason altogether. My breasts ached the way they hadn't since I'd started puberty. My nipples had grown stiff, I realized, and they seemed to burn with a cold fire. I shivered and spread my legs even wider without conscious effort. My clitoris had grown stiff as well and I could see it swollen and pink as the wrinkled hood gave way. Every touch of the dog's tongue seemed a delicious torture and I felt an electric jolt as he'd flick across my clit, coaxing it to throbbing life.

I didn't want this! I felt confused, almost dizzy with disbelief as my body betrayed me. I couldn't possibly enjoy what the animal was doing. It wasn't right. It was unnatural to be aroused by a dog, to shiver with unmistakable pleasure beneath his instinctual attentions. It had to be instinct and nothing more, I thought. He could taste me now. The dog could smell my arousal, the tang of it had become strong enough even for my poor human senses to detect. He tasted something new, something interesting, and he was licking me for no other reason than he was a dog.

But what was my excuse? I moaned and found my breasts with my hands. I had no choice. I squeezed my tits and felt my swollen nipples against my palms. I hated myself for that, for feeling good and allowing some part of me to enjoy what was happening. This was a dog! He was licking my virgin sex, making me hot and tight and almost desperate in ways I'd never imagined possible. It was disgusting to be aroused by a dirty animal. What kind of woman would allow such a thing? Why wasn't I fighting him. Why wasn't I trying to get away from the beast?

"Ohhhh God!" I gasped loudly, arching my back as my thighs closed once more. I couldn't help it. Something was happening and I didn't know what it could be.

My first orgasm ever, the very first of my life, exploded deep in my belly with a pleasure that seemed nearly unbearable. I had no way of expecting it. The signs that I'd been getting close meant nothing to my inexperienced body, or my confused and innocent mind. My orgasm simply happened as if I'd been struck by lightning out of a clear blue sky and I very nearly sobbed beneath the glorious weight of it. My ass came off the carpet as I clamped my thighs to the dog's head. His muzzle and teeth and tongue were trapped beneath the flood of girl juice erupting from my sex.

The walls of my pussy seemed to spasm with sharp, rapid contractions. I'd never felt empty before, but it was there like a shadow deep in my belly. I wanted something inside me, something long and thick that my hungry sex could hold onto while I came. I pinched my nipples hard, heedless of the pain because it felt so wonderful. I needed to pinch and pull them, to fight the pleasure with something else, and it seemed as if I burned everywhere. My body grew flushed and damp with perspiration. I had no idea how long my orgasm lasted. A few seconds or minutes or hours, it was all the same to me. A brief eternity lost in the ecstasy of my first orgasm.

"Ohhhh no ... Oh..." I blinked at the tears in my eyes and giggled stupidly.

I felt drunk and giddy as I relaxed my thighs, spreading my legs to let the dog go. He'd been growling softly, but that's all, and perhaps he somehow understood that I'd been helpless to do anything but cum. He was looking at me as I lay on the floor, licking his chops and staring at my face. I looked back at him, but I couldn't meet his eyes and I didn't even try. As my orgasm fell slowly away, I felt something like guilt taking its place.

I'd just had an orgasm. I'd had sex with a dog and I'd cum. Not real sex, I told myself, but some kind of sex. It made me blush, it really did. Even though we were alone in my apartment, I felt a deep sense of humiliation and shame. A dog had licked my pussy and made me cum, and that seemed so completely wrong. Nobody could ever know! I decided on that immediately and it wasn't a hard decision to make. I'd never speak of it, never even think of it. I had to forget it had ever happened and ... I needed a bath.

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