Literotica Dog Sex

Literotica Dog Sex

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A few years ago I spent a month in a cabin in Montana, my dog Curly as my only companion. The cabin was owned by former first daughter Amy Carter, who had grown up awkwardly before our nation’s eyes. It was a very cold winter.
In the mornings I would get up with the sound of woodpeckers at work. There were pines everywhere around the cabin, and beyond the pines, there was a lake to the east. I could sit on my deck in the mornings and see the lake through the trees’ straight trunks.
Amy had told me that once a week, there would be a man who would come to deliver wood. She told me that he was a very striking looking man.
That first Sunday, I retrieved the newspaper and began reading an article about whaling. It seems that Japan has wanted for some time to resume its practice of hunting whales. They want to take 150 Bryde’s whales a year between 2004 and 2008, and 150 minke whales this year. Japan was clearly concerned about the whales. What did they know that we didn’t, I wondered.
It was a very interesting article, and I looked forward to reading it all.
Just then I heard the rhythmic ripping sound of someone walking through the snow. I looked out my clouded window and saw a man. I guessed him to be the man who would bring the wood, and about his appearance Amy seemed to be correct. He was about 6’3", with a long mane of dirty blond hair. His hair was very, very dirty. His jaw was sculpted and he wore a thick mustache. Behind him, he pulled a sled full of wood. Curly woofed quietly, but I shushed him.
The man did not know I was watching him. He began to unload the wood, stacking it neatly against the cabin, and he soon became warm enough to take off his jacket. Now wearing only a tight black tank-top, I noticed his chiseled muscles and his very smooth skin.
To use the word ‘adonis’ in a sentence here would not be inappropriate.
I went back to reading my article about the Japanese pleas for whaling. They had convened an international conference of some sort to determine whether Japan and other pro-whaling nations, such as Norway, should be allowed to kill whales. These pro-whaling nations claimed they could do so in sustainable numbers, while most of the rest in the international community insisted that there was not enough science to know whether or not sustainable whaling was possible.
I looked up and saw the wood-man bare-chested. Apparently, he had been working so hard that his shirt was now a nuisance. His naked chest was strong and smooth, covered in a glistening sheen of perspiration. He was hairless and his skin was colored a light shade of cherry. Cherry is a kind of wood.
I moved my gaze from his torso to his face and realized he was looking at me. First he looked into my eyes, then scanned my body. It was at that moment that I remembered I was nude. I sleep in the nude now that my husband Mark has disappeared with that woman from the laundry room.
Before I could protest, the wood-man was inside the house. He was a huge man and closed the door. It seemed that he wanted something from me, but who could guess what that thing was? He wore only his work boots and very snug denim trousers. They appeared to be getting more snug as the seconds passed. I stood before him, unclothed and unmoving. Because the window was behind me, he could have seen only a silhouette. He stepped toward me and I saw him more clearly.
He was a powerful man, virile, a man who would take what he wanted, without being cruel. I looked up and down his beautiful torso, drinking in his smooth hard chest, his arms like bent pipes, his flat, perfectly defined stomach, the few strands of hair below his navel, disappearing into his jeans, which hid a growth of a very distinct shape. My eyes caressed this part of him lovingly, afraid, but intrigued by its size and apparent power, and then my gaze swung to the right, where, just behind him, I had left my newspaper. I had almost forgotten all about it.
I brushed past the wood-man and took it into my hands and touched it. I refound my place. The problem with whales in general, apparently, is that it’s hard to know precisely how many whales of any species actually exist. Worse, many killings of whales — accidental or not, by fishing vessels or other watercraft — are not reported.
Now the wood-man was behind me, breathing on my back. I heard myself sigh. I guess I really sympathized with the Japanese and the Norwegians, in that there are indeed animals and plants that need to be harvested, lest they take over the world and rule over humans, making us do their bidding.
If minke or Bryde’s whales attempted to lord over me, I would start an underground movement aimed at stopping them. We would wear organic-looking clothing and would live in a bunker built from scrap metal. Amy Carter would be there, as would the daughters of Jesse Jackson. We would breed with the sons of Gil Gerard. Our children would run around, filthy, because we would know that the battle against the whales would take many generations.
Those fucking whales! I would say to the assembled rebels. I would be the leader of the rebels. Yeah, fucking minke fascists! they would yell. We would all raise our harpoons and do some kind of chant I would invent. All the chants would have to go through me to make sure they were good chants. I hate stupid chants.
You ask me how the whales would rule over people if they live in the ocean and do not have thumbs. I shake my head and say, This is how it starts, humans. This is how it starts.
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Caution: The doghouse takes no responsibility for the stupidity or the actions of members of the public where they choose to endanger themselves. By its very natures some things are dangerous - you can either live a life or hide in bed. I choose life.
Cagecorr Cage of Correction TopDog and UKSkin Chained on his knees, his gullet full of my cum, the new cocksucker defied me, "Never. Never.! I'll never do that, you'll have to kill me first, you can't make me do ... Please, Master, please, don’t make me do that…"
The Dog The Dog boy, by slaveGirl Lauren wasn't all that thrilled about watching her boyfriend's dog for the weekend, but the big german shepherd was lovable, and quite obedient. She didn't expect any problems from Desi -what a name for a mutt, she thought, named for the cuban actor-leading man, Desi Arnaz. Sometimes she wondered about Ted's eccentricities.
The Trip Part 3 in the Skinhead Nation story. Just wait and see...
Dogboy "Spike" Diary of dog boy Spike A tale of dedication and service of a dog as he prepares for his prospective Owner and Master.
Whipped Dog On-going training of Dog boy This is when your dog hopes to go into some more detail about my training and some thoughts that i have on the matter, your dog will not question the training that you give me, as this pup trusts his MASTER is going to look after the property in His care, Sir.
Necktie party from The Noose Club At exactly midnight I rang the doorbell and knelt down. The door opened and Master Raymond ordered me to crawl inside and service His boots. His 14 hole Rangers are always highly polished -when I am in custody I have to do them twice every day along with Master Gary's 14 hole DM's and my own slave boots.
My new Dog Boy from Skite I saw you Saturday night sitting with your friends under an umbrella in front of Florent. I thought about pulling out my dog collar and putting it around your neck and dragging you on all fours through the restaurant to the bathroom where I would lock the door, bend you over the sink and fuck your sorry ass. I thought about it, but I had better things to do.
Rover by Rover, Harrisburg, PA 17106 I'm going to be a Dog. I don't mean I feel like a dog, I mean I'm going to become an honest-to-god dog, a human dog.
My five years as a dog by Kia I am finding this a difficult task, trying to relate the sum of five years, experience devoted to pleasing my former Owner. I had found a man who became my Master, my Owner, who led me to see the pleasure of living as that special dog of his. I was happy to have given up my human liberty to find a better freedom to be and exist under his control. There is a special relationship between a man and his dog that when found is quite rare.
My Chastity Training By cuffedKid Sir ordered that I kneel, so that he could place the collar on me. Then I was left to fit the cock cuff to myself. I had not had a wank before I arrived here because I expected Sir to let me have a final tug, before having the cock cuff on. Well, I was so very horny and could not get the cuff over my shaft...
(back to top ) Below are those found on other sites, and so the links to them are at risk of damage to changes at their end.
My Life as a dog: by Owned I had agreed to live my life for the next year as a DOG. I would be a dog, a lab animal and a pet. Just thinking about this would reliably send an electric charge from my brain to my cock and back again. How did I know that I had made the right decision?...
Human Animals Stories by Robert Hurvitz "Oh, thanks," I said, accepting the flier. It read: "Subject needed for human-animal neural relationship experiment. $500. Please call Professor Billow at 642-0070 if interested." There were many cuts at the bottom of the paper to make stubs that one could rip off and take and that bore the words "Prof Billow, 642-0070, $500."
My Wife As a Dog by Anonymous Loosely inspired from the "Friday the 13th: the Series" episode of the same name. It was a cool day at Ricky's Bar, the place where I work. By "cool" I mean that the heater was down, so we were all freezing our asses off, you know? Of course, after my love life and recent marriage, I'm pretty used to cold. Well, I guess I better introduce myself, so you know what and what the hell is going on here, eh?
Sirius - The Dog's Tale by MegaDog Dedicated to the memory of the innocent dogs destroyed under the UK 'Dangerous Dogs Act 1991'. It was not your fault you were born the breed you were, it *is* our fault we let this happen to you. You will not be forgotten.
Patty on a Leash by an8234@anon.penet.fi Patty was winding her way around the corner, finishing up her part-time job walking Mrs. Fisher's two dogs. It was a simple job, but she was a very nice woman who lived about two blocks away from where Patty lives, and after playing with the dogs on her way home from school, she spoke with Mrs. Fisher and struck a deal.
Prison Farm by Bob Stein Keith looked sullenly through the barred windows of the van, watching the guard talk to some skinny, white-haired guy in coveralls. Andy and Spike, two other boys from the Juevy Pen, slouched down in their seats, trying to look bored. All three of them were being 'transferred' to this friggin' work ranch because they were troublemakers. He snorted. Like some Elmer Fudd farmer was gonna make him toe the line?
Human Animals Stories by Brian Eirik Coe We like to talk to each other. We set aside these two hours just to chat. The conversations sometimes go into the realm of philosophy or religion. Questions of such a deep nature that we often spend an hour imply defining the terms of the question. Other times, we might talk about some political issue, a news story, or even what the latest film releases are (even if neither of us has seen a film since that big Speilberg movie, what was it? Jaws, I think). So when Frank walked into the room, I wasn't at all surprised by two things, the two bottles of opaque liquid he placed on the desk, or his opening conversation. "Well, Doug, what would you say the possibility of changing the human form is?"
Straight Jactet Stories by Brian Eirik Coe Straight Jackets might not at first sight seem related to Dog training perhaps, but these stories can give you some ideas.
I've always loved writing stories about the kind of things that turn me on. These are most of the stories I've written over the years, and have previously only been available by email, in sections (my email program won't handle long files - nor italics, which I tend to make a lot of use of...) This is the first time I've actually got them all together in one place - I had to search ancient floppies to find some of them. They were all written with one object in mind:- to turn myself on - and so understandably they revolve around my own turn-ons and fantasies. However, please remember that they are all works of fiction - and as such do not necessarily reflect what I actually do to guys, nor the ages or types of guys I like to play with.
DogSlave one two three by Cager
It started as a fantasy. i had always had a foot in both the standard gay culture and another in the sm culture, content to dabble in one or the other when it suited me; but as time went on i found myself less and less drawn to the 'vanilla' side of gay sex and more and more to the sm....
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Created this throwaway for this, I have a legit account but I want to get this out.
Long story short, I used to let my dog eat me out. Best feeling ever, that long, flat tongue could cover my pussy totally. (Before you ask, yes his mouth was cleaned and so was I, and I cleaned us both after.) He'd do it willingly, I'd sit there with my legs spread, curious of what he'd do at first, he was gentle then he'd get a little rougher and I would come, and he seemed to like to lick up my come.
I tried to get him to mount me, but all he'd do was lick my butt. I was so keen to fuck him. It even makes me horny just thinking about all of this. I loved him, undoubtedly and would never willingly hurt him. I don't know why I wanted to be sexual with him, I wouldn't let just any dog lick me out.
My ex roommate told me she'd tried this with her BF's dog. Thats how she found out she's allergic to peanut butter, and apparently dogs.. lol
Weird story: I was at the park with my 3 y.o. niece, she's afraid of dogs and dogs licking her -- so when she saw this middle-aged lady walking a dog, she got scared. I told her that it's a friendly dog and won't hurt her... the lady was super nice and patient, and let my niece pet the dog.
The dog licks her face, she freaks for a moment, but is more happy than scared. A few minutes later, a rash starts to break out on her face... I know that she's only allergic to peanuts, so I ask the lady, "has your dog had any peanuts or peanut butter today?" She pauses, her face turns really red, and she's kind of stammering, "uh, no... not that I'm aware of..." She leaves pretty quickly after that.
I love animals and I definitely think a person sodomizing an animal or forcing one into a sexual act against it's will is abuse. But why are so many calling this abuse? I mean...the dog does it of it's own free will. I have two dogs. One of them is chronic panty licker. He steals my dirty underwear and chews the crotch and runs around town with them. The other dog is addicted to licking and eating poop from my son's dirty diapers. I don't let him but sometimes he manages to steal a big poopy diaper and he will lick it clean.
I mean some dogs are just sick fucks (like mine) and do weird things all the time because they are dogs. I don't think op's dog is going to be traumatized or anything...sounds like the dog enjoys it
I believe I've seen a dog on the dog whisperer once that ate his own poop. Cesar explained that the owners couldn't get him to stop, because It's the only
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