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Archive name: not.txt (F/beast, rp, v)
Authors name: Kellie C. (kellieC82@aol.com)
Story title : Not a Woman's Best Friend
--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2003. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
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Not a Woman's Best Friend (F/beast, rp, v)
by Kellie C. (kellieC82@aol.com)
***
You know all those stupid Internet stories floating around about how women like having sex with a dog and they have great orgasms and end up not only fucking them but sucking their dicks? What absolute bullshit! This is a more realistic story.
***
My name is Christine and I was raped by a dog. I was thirty-two years old at the time (I'm thirty-five now) and living twelve miles east of Seattle,
Washington. The only reason that I'm telling you this is because of all the stupid Internet stories floating around about how women are won over by having sex with a dog and have great orgasms and end up not only fucking them but sucking their dicks. That is such bullshit.It was a Saturday morning and I was cutting my lawn. The house I was renting had an attached garage and a medium-sized yard. It wasn't the greatest house in the world--or
even in Seattle--but it was clean and well maintained and it fit my budget. I was mowing along the front sidewalk, made a turn back toward the house when the sound of a car's tires screeching on the pavement behind me made me jump. I turned around quickly, half expecting to see someone flying through the air, but it wasn't a person at all, but a dog.
He had come out of the woods across the street and tried to cross the road; now he stood just inside the verge of the woods again, looking back over his shoulder. His ears were laid back on his head and his tail tucked smartly
between his legs. The driver laid on his horn, yelled at the dog fiercely, and then sped away. As the car drove out of sight, the dog cautiously reemerged from the woods and sat down on his haunches. He was a black Labrador Retriever, a big one, and he watched me with a dog's typical aplomb, ears pricked up and head canted to one side as though wondering what I was doing over here. I had never seen him before and guessed he was
lost. I called to him and it was obvious that he heard me, but for some reason he ignored my call and I thought, Well fuck you too, doggie, and went back to cutting the lawn.
After finishing up, I went into the house and made myself a roast beef sandwich with a cold glass of milk and watched the noon-time news. Just as the news was going off, I heard a dog whining outside my screen door and I
went to have a look. Of course it was the black Lab."Hello," I greeted him. "You decided to be social now?"He was bigger than I had originally thought, at least 120 pounds, and although he didn't have a collar on, from his appearance it was obvious he belonged to someone. He was lost all right. His owner was probably looking for him now or would be soon enough. In the meantime, he looked pretty thirsty and I went to the kitchen and got him a bowl of water. When I set it near him on the porch, he backed away and wouldn't touch it until I went back inside and closed the screen door. "You are the weirdest dog I've ever seen," I said. This from Christine the expert, who'd never had a dog in her life.
I leaned against the jamb and watched him lap the water. He was watching me back. I tried talking to him in a soothing tone of voice, but he remained just as wary as ever. When I pushed open the door, intending to join him on the porch, he backed away and headed down the steps, took off at a run across the lawn. Just as he neared the curb, however, another car came around the bend going way too fast--as usual--and for a moment I thought the dog
would panic. But the driver laid on his horn and doing a one-eighty, the Lab bolted back towards my house, darted in behind the row of hedges beneath the front window and let out a frustrated woof! He just stood there panting.
If I don't do something soon, I thought, this dog is going to get killed. Not really sure what I was doing, I picked up the empty bowl, refilled it at the kitchen sink, then walked through the garage to the side door, opened it and set the bowl in the doorway. Then I walked a short distance away. "This isn't going to work," I grumbled to myself. "He wouldn't even let you near him."
A few minutes went by and the dog ventured far enough out from behind the bushes to sniff the air and observe me with his impenetrable black eyes. I couldn't help it, it made me shiver. I backed up a step and thought, Maybe
this is not such a hot idea, Chris. Maybe you should just go back inside, lock the kitchen door and call the damn pound.
But before I could reject this idea as plain old school-girlish silly, I heard the phone ringing and went back inside to answer it. It was Jean Michaels, a friend from New York with whom I hadn't talked in a long time. As I chatted with her gaily for the next half an hour, I watched through the open kitchen door. The dog never came in.
-- -- --
I shut the garage door and locked it. It was quarter to two and although I'd looked for the Lab all around the house and inside the garage, he was nowhere to be found. He'd done whatever it is lost doggies do, I guess...
gotten lost even more.Disgusted with the way I felt, I took a shower, toweled
dry, and put on a bathrobe. I was drying my hair when I thought I heard a noise from the garage. Not barking, but like someone thudding against the closed kitchen door. Armed with the blow dryer, I went downstairs and tip-toed cautiously through the living room and out into the kitchen. I could here him whining just outside the door. "Well, shit," I said aloud, at the sound of which he began to whine even louder and started a scattershot scratching at the door with his claws."Hold on, hold on," I said, wondering how he'd gotten in. I know the garage had been empty when I'd gone in to take my shower... at least I thought it had. He must have been hiding. Yeah, I thought, he must have been hiding.Opening the kitchen door just a crack, I watched him back
away to the far side of the garage and drop to his haunches. The water bowl sat empty beside his left paw. I had forgotten about it left it just inside the door. "Weirdo dog," I said.
Stepping into the garage, I closed the kitchen door behind me and predictably he got up and moved cautiously away to his tight. "You don't trust anybody, do you boy? Or is it just me?" He sat down again and watched me with
those polished black eyes. And then he growled.If I had been nervous before, now I was scared. You never showed fear to a dog--that's what I'd always heard--and it was obvious to me why. They can smell it on you. I clutched the bathrobe closed at my throat and took a wary step backwards, and as soon as I did this he rose and stalked two paces forward, teeth bared."Nice doggy," I squeaked. "Grrrrrrrrrr," rumbled out of his throat, low, deep and menacing. He took another pace forward, dropping lower to the ground and showing all his teeth. If I made a run for the kitchen door I knew he'd be all over me before I got three feet. "What's going on boy?" I said in a small, quavering voice. "You gonna hurt me? I tried to help you, you know." I was standing with my back against the side of the garage before I knew I had been moving. He approached me from my right, herding me away from the kitchen door,
toward the corner in the rear. I was terrified now. I was beginning to panic.
"Nice doggy," I squeaked again. "Nice puppy dog, doggie." Only this dog was anything but a puppy. He was a demon in black fur.
Refusing to be cornered like the desperate animal I knew I was becoming, I angled away and moved toward the center of the floor. The dog didn't like it much, but he let me do it. I began to think--pray--that he'd let me go all the way to the outside door and go through it. Just as it appeared he'd actually let me go, in a terrifying blur of motion, he leaped at me through the air. I shrieked and put my arms up but the force of his lunge knocked me to the floor. I banged down on my back striking my head on the concrete and hot sparks erupted like a 4th of July fountain across my eyes. My vision doubled and became alarmingly blurred. When it cleared again--too late--I found he had straddled me, fangs bared just inches above my throat. I was going to die.
But the dog had other ideas."What do you want," I pleaded in a tiny, terrified voice. My bathrobe was open, leaving me fully exposed. His hot wet prick dragged back and forth across my uncovered stomach, making me shudder and want to scream. At first I didn't even know what it was. When I finally did, in that same tiny, terrified voice--terrified now for an entirely
different reason--I protested, "No way!" and tried to scuttle away. He took my throat in his teeth."Okay, okay," I breathed with my eyes clamped shut.
"Whatever you want." I relaxed myself with a titanic effort and spread my legs. Again, the dog had other ideas. He released my throat and growled."What?" I was honestly baffled. He growled again. He made circular motions with his
head... I swear, he actually did this... and I slowly got the message. "On my knees?" I quavered in disbelief.The dog, who was not a dog at all, but the aforementioned demon from hell, nodded his head.
"You want to mount me?" A breathless whisper. He nodded again. I rolled onto my stomach and started to get up. Before I could get all the way up onto my hands and knees he batted my on my rump with his snout."What?" I was beginning to think I was already dead. Or in some nightmare dream caused by the concussion to the back of my head. It really ached. He growled and shook his head sharply to the right. Away from my body. And suddenly Iunderstood. "This is not real," I whispered. "It can't be real. It can't be. It just isn't happening." He wanted me to disrobe.Rising erect from my knees, I slid the robe back over my shoulders and let it fall into my hands. I began to bring
it around when he snatched it roughly away from me and flung it across the floor. It landed near the garage door with the arms in an out-flung, helpless gesture. That's how I felt--totally helpless. I was naked with a dog.He batted me again with his snout."What?" I objected, beginning to loose my cool. The
crippling shock and disbelief had begun to wear off and I was becoming rebellious. Damned if I was being corralled by a dog.
Suddenly he was up on his rear haunches, one talon-clawed paw on either of my shoulders and the back of my neck clamped firmly between his teeth. His breath flowing around my neck was horrid. "Okay, okay," I acquiesced. "I get the point." Then, as the powerful muscles in his jaw began to clamp shut on my neck, "Please! Anything you want!" It was a short-lived rebellion. He dropped back to all fours and so did I. He sniffed me up and down my flank and licked my right cheek. I took it. He snuffled into my right ear and bit lightly at the
lobe and I took that too. All the while I smelled his graveyard breath. What the hell was he doing? For a moment neither of us moved. He stood there panting, beside my right shoulder, facing me, and suddenly I understood. This was some kind of dominance thing, what I had occasionally seen one dog--presumably the alpha male--do to another. He was doing it to me. I got it, I
thought. Loud and clear. You're the alpha. I'm the bitch.Satisfied (he read my thoughts in my body language, there's no other explanation) he grunted lightly one time, then went to stand behind me. I stared straight ahead panting. He had really hurt my neck. Good luck, Christine, I thought. A dog is about to fuck you.
He sniffed at my pussy (I hate the word with everything I am, but I just can't think of a better one to use), then snuffled it like he had done to my ear. I tried not to jump but the shock was just too great. I gave a little shriek and sidled forward. He growled. "Fuck you!" I said vehemently under my breath. "I don't
like it, okay!"He obviously did, because a moment later his tongue went
from halfway to my navel all the way up the crack of my ass to the small of my back. This time I really did shriek and I surged forward in alarm. I also looked back over my shoulder in horror as ever nerve ending in my body jangled. It was like getting scrubbed by a warm, wet length of Scotchbrite.I didn't move. I didn't breath. I felt sick at my stomach. I wanted to puke. He licked my pussy again and I made a disgusting noise, something a real bitch might make. Tears leaked from my eyes and splattered onto the concrete below, sucked up almost immediately by the dust and porous surface. It wouldn't stay that way for long, not if I started bawling. When I started bawling. He lapped at me for a full minute, then two, getting me slathered up and absolutely raw. I felt every little sandpaper bead on his tongue and because I routinely shave to keep myself clean--I had done so only that morning--there was not even my wispy blonde pubic hair to offer any protection. My clitoris, my swollen outer lips, the mouth of my vagina, my urethra and especially my poor little anus all got the treatment. And the way he went after me with that tongue, with such unbelievable vigor--he'd driven me six feet or more across the floor--you'd think I was a sugar-coated treat. To him, I guess I was.Then he mounted me and locked his powerful forepaws around my waist and I squealed in complete and utter terror. He shoved forward with his cock, not so much searching for my pussy as dive-bombing it. I wailed again and tried to crawl away across the floor but he lunged forward over me and grabbed my neck again with his teeth. He bit down hard and growled an angry, you stay the fuck put! snarl, breaking my skin with his teeth--not deep, just enough to get his point across--and I could feel blood seeping out of the wounds. "Okay," I brayed. "I'm yours! I'm whatever you want! I'll do anything you tell me to! Just please, please don't hu--"
I sucked in an agonized breath as something hot and sticky and the size of a baseball bat entered my pussy. Then I shrieked and then I caterwauled--quietly, as those teeth still dug into my neck--and shook my entire body
trying to get him out. Instead, he worked himself even deeper."No," I sobbed. "Please no! Let me go!" Instead, I crawled forward under him six more agonizing feet until my head hit the back wall of the garage and then skidded
along its surface. I cried hot, sulfurous tears, the tears burning my eyes, my nose, the back of my throat. The thing in my pussy was hot and sulfuric too, pounding in and out of me, gouging at my vagina, assaulting me, destroying my sanity one thrust at a time. It was more pain than I could ever have imagined.
"Nuhungunaaaah," something inside me cawed. I was no more able to make coherent noise than I was of having coherent thought. I was a woman with a demon on her back... and in her vagina.
Trapped against the garage wall, I began to turn in against it. Splinters from the exposed two by fours gouged me wherever I rubbed against them. (I'd later look like a comedy skit from Saturday Night Live or Mad TV or something. The Splinter Lady, I thought.) But as the splinters attacked the side of my right hand, my right forearm, then my elbow, my upper arm and shoulder and finally my right hip and my thigh, the Lab continued walking me forward with his thrusts. I scraped against the plywood sheathing of the exterior wall,
encountering a second two by four, then a third, and finally a forth.Then I was in the corner that I had avoided so many years before--right where my doggie master wanted me--he banged me head first into the two by fours in the corner there, driving me unmercifully forward until my head had only one place to go--down and against the floor. I knelt there, jammed hard against the studs, my cheek pres
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