CANINE CLASSICS
By Harold Dean


Introduction

One way in which people deal with a fact that makes them uncomfortable is to simply
pretend that it does not exist, no matter how much evidence there is to the contrary.
This psychological process can be observed on both a collective and individual level as
regards the subject of woman/animal sex. Collectively in that most people falsely
believe that bestiality is not to be found outside of Greek mythology, and individually
in that even the most suspicious and jealous husband – the kind who is constantly on
the lookout for signs of human lovers – almost never suspects when relations between
his wife and Fido have gotten well beyond the Platonic stage. If he sees the family
Doberman try and slide his muzzle up the wife or daughter's skirt, he will just tell
himself that "that's the way dogs are", without bothering to wonder if perhaps that
muzzle hasn't been up that skirt many times before, when the panties had been taken
off and the woman's vagina was waiting expectantly for the soft, wet caress of a canine
tongue.
In fact, sexual relations between women and animals occur very frequently. Statistics
are difficult to obtain for obvious reasons, but I would say that it is a rare psychiatrist or
clinical psychologist who has not had more than one female patient admit to having
had actual, consummated sexual relations with a dog, cat, pony or other animal.
At first glance, it may seem surprising that women would wish to go outside their own
species for sexual satisfaction. After all, there is hardly any current shortage of human
penises or tongues. But as the cases which this book contains will show, there are in
fact many advantages to an animal lover – of which by no means the least is absolute
discretion. A dog can tell no tales to the guys over a couple of beers. In addition, the
family pet is always available, always ready to serve his mistress. There is no need for
assignations in motel rooms, or any risky procedures of that sort. And many women
have testified that the penis of, say, a German shepherd, simply fits their vaginas better
than does that of a human lover.
Nevertheless, there are often other, deeper reasons of a psychological sort why women
choose to make love with an animal rather than a man. Reasons which have to do with
feelings of in security, or other psychological disorders. It is the responsibility of the
therapist to determine the nature of these reasons and to see what treatment, if any, is
required. Few psychologists or psychiatrists still believe that people should be made to
conform to society's rather arbitrary standard of what constitutes acceptable sexual
behavior. Thus, in those cases where the woman is content with her bestial
involvement, little is required beyond assuring the patient that she need not feel guilty
about her behavior. On the other hand, in other cases the animal involvement can be a
valuable sign to the therapist that serious personality disorders exist, disorders which
effectively stand in the way of the patient's self-respect and happiness. In such cases,
therapy is, of course, advisable.
Perhaps because most people seem to prefer to think that bestiality rarely occurs, the
subject has been little studied. The intelligent layman with an interest in psychological
matters has few works which he can turn to for information. It is to partially fill this
gap that this book has been written.
The five cases which the reader will find in the following pages are those of women who
came to my office because for one reason or another the fact that they had sexual
relations with animals bothered them. Certainly they are not the only five I have ever
known who engaged in bestiality, but taken together they represent a good spread of
the different reasons which cause women to have relations with animals.
No third-person account can ever have the vividness of a narration in the patient's own
words, so I have presented essentially unedited transcripts of what the women
recounted to me. In order to place what they saw within a larger psychological
perspective, I have appended to each case a brief discussion of how I analyzed it at the
time, what therapy, if any, I recommended, and what the success of the latter was. A
brief concluding chapter seeks to tie together the salient points offered by the different
cases.
I am fully aware of how difficult it is to do justice to such a complex subject within the
confines of a relatively short book like this one. If I undertake it at all, it is because I am
not trying to impart any encyclopedic knowledge to the reader, but rather to stimulate
his thought processes. If I succeed in the latter task, I will regard my time as well spent.


Case History 1

Rebecca T. was a pretty girl of fourteen who came to the low-cost clinic where I
volunteered my services once a week. One look at those blue eyes of hers was enough
to tell anyone that Rebecca T. was very frightened.
"Doctor," she said, "I don't know if I should be here at all. I mean, I know that this is a
clinic for poor people, and my folks aren't exactly poor. But my mom would kill me if I
told her about my... my problems, and I don't have much money on my own. Just a
little bit that I get from babysitting."
"The main reason for the existence of this clinic is to help people who can't get private
therapy," I explained. "The reason that they are unable to get such therapy is not
particularly important. Perhaps after a few sessions with me you'll decide that you can
reveal your problem to your mother after all. If not, you needn't worry. If I think that
you need psychiatric help, I'll make sure that you continue to get it."
She gave a little sigh of relief. Obviously, she was very relieved to learn that she could
get help without her mother being informed of what the score was. But she still sat
rather uneasily in her chair and fidgeted with her hands. After all, the fact that she had
found a psychologist willing to listen to her problem didn't make revealing that
problem any easier. Whatever it was, it was clearly something that she was very
ashamed of.
"Uh... Doctor... I'm trying to begin my... account of what's been happening with me,
and all, but I just can't seem to find the right words..."
"Don't worry, Rebecca," I said to her. "I've never had a patient yet who didn't feel
nervous at his or her first psychotherapy session. And believe me, I've had some pretty
sophisticated, confident people sitting opposite me in my time. But of course, difficult
though I know it is for you to talk about what it is that's bothering you, there's no
other way that I can help you."
"I... I understand," she said, but she still didn't get on with telling me just what it was
that was bothering her.
"Is your problem sexual in nature?" I prompted. This society is so hung up on sexual
taboos of various kinds that when a patient is particularly hesitant to talk, it's usually a
good bet that sex is involved.
"Yes, Doctor," she said, blushing and gazing down at the floor. That was all she said,
though, and it was obvious that more prompting was needed.
"Do you perhaps find yourself attracted to another girl?" I asked. There was nothing
about her that suggested that such might be the case, but it was a reasonable enough
guess to make, since teenagers are often rather confused about sexual roles. I also hoped
that even if my guess was wide of the mark, in her eagerness to deny the suggestion she
might actually reveal what her sexual hangup was. And there I was completely correct.
"No, it's nothing like that," she said hastily. "It isn't as bad as that. Well, maybe it is. I
don't know which is worse – that, or having sexual relations with a dog."
She stopped short as she realized that she had let her big secret out. I could see though
that she was relieved to be over that hurdle, difficult and painful though her admission
was for her.
"So that's what's bothering you?" I asked.
"Yes," she said in a small voice. She was quite literally trembling, as if she suddenly
expected me to pour a torrent of verbal abuse over her. Needless to say, nothing of the
sort took place.
"Rebecca," I said gently, "I'll bet that you think you must be just about the only girl in
the world who has ever done something like that, don't you?"
"Uh huh," she said in a near-whisper, nodding her head slightly.
"Well, let me tell you that I have had over a dozen women make the same admission to
me in the course of my career, and I'm not all that old. At least, I don't think of myself
as old."
She couldn't help smiling at hearing a psychologist admit that he had such human
concerns as not wanting to think of himself as old.
"A dozen?" she asked, astonished.
"That's right. And they weren't dreadful, depraved creatures, just as you aren't a
dreadful, depraved creature," I went on. "They were human beings with all sorts of
different qualities, most of them good. They just happened to have this problem."
She looked up at me with a less anxious expression on her face than I had seen since
she entered my office.
"Were you able to... cure these women?" she asked.
Logically, I should have said that what needed curing was the underlying psychological
maladjustment of which the bestiality was just a symptom. But I didn't want to confuse
Rebecca. It was obvious that what she needed at the moment was reassurance. I
answered "yes".
"Do you think that you'll be able to cure me?"
"That depends on the circumstances of your case," I said to her. "And I can only
determine those if you..."..." spill all the beans to you. Okay, Doctor," she said, "I guess
you've got me dead to rights. This is how things got started..."
I guess I'm not such a bad-looking girl. I've certainly never had any trouble getting
dates, or anything like that. But the trouble with boys is that they're such cowards. I
mean, right from the first sex education class back in seventh grade, I was pretty
curious about what it would be like to actually try out some of the things the teacher
was talking about. Maybe boys feel the same way, but when they're my age, they sure
don't have the nerve to try and satisfy that curiosity. Until I met Ken, just about the
only thing half-way exciting that the guys who took me out dared do was French kiss.
One of them put his right hand on one of my tits for a second, but only for a second.
He pulled it away almost immediately, as if he was afraid that I would be mad. Mad? I
was just starting to get turned on. What a bust, if you'll pardon the pun, Doctor.
I knew though that Ken would be different. He was three years older than I, and had
kind of a reputation of being a stud. No one knew how many girls he had fucked, but it
was said to be plenty.
For some reason, he liked to go out with girls who were younger than he was, so I
wasn't too surprised when he started to show an interest in me. I was kind of flattered
though, and a bit scared, too. I'd been telling myself that I wanted nothing better than
to have some guy shove his prick up my cunt, but I knew that if Ken took me out, that
was just exactly what would happen. And the thought of him pushing his dick through
my maidenhead and into my pussy really sort of frightened me.
I told myself that I was just being a baby, though. Going out with Ken was a sign of
having really arrived, maybe because everyone knew that if you were going out with
him you had to be fucking with him, and there isn't anything much more grown up
than fucking.
I say "going out," but actually all that was involved was going over to his place. He
didn't think that there was any point in wasting time with preliminaries like going to
the movies, or having a pizza together, when the whole point of the date, as far as he
was concerned, was fucking.
I hadn't been at his place for more than about five minutes when he started Frenching
me and feeling up my tits. Like I said, I was kind of scared, but at the same time, that
pressure of his fingers on my breasts was really kind of nice. I wasn't wearing any bra –
I'd been afraid that Ken would regard any girl who wore a bra as hopelessly square –
and I'm sure that he could feel through the fabric of my sweater the way in which my
nipples were hardening up.
He placed his other hand on my knee, then started to slide it up under my skirt. I
pressed my thighs together so as to get as much pressure on my clit as I possibly could.
My fun button was almost aching it was so eager for some attention.
It wasn't going to have long to wait, either. Ken's hand slid on up and up towards it,
and the closer it got, the hotter and more turned on I felt, so that finally I was literally
squirming and wriggling on the couch.
When I felt his fingers press against my soggy panties, I thought for a moment that I
was going to come. I didn't, in fact, but the shudder that went pulsing through my
body told me just how nice that come would be when I finally got it.
Ken pulled the panties down from my cunt, then touched the tips of his fingers against
my labia again. I shivered with pleasure once more, and all the while, his tongue was
pressing against mine and exploring every little nook and cranny of my mouth.
I very much wanted to reach down and squeeze his prick through his pants, but I didn't
because I wasn't sure how he would react. Somehow I got the impression that he wasn't
the kind of guy who liked his woman to play a very active role.
I heard the sound of him undoing his zipper, and then he pressed me back against the
couch. He had gotten my panties all the way off, and I spread my legs, knowing
perfectly well what was coming.
He didn't bother to remove my skirt, but instead just bunched it up around my waist,
in the same way that he had bunched my sweater up under my arms so that he could
get a good go at my tits. He pressed and kneaded the soft globes, and rubbed on the
nipples until they were swollen up to about three times their normal size.
I was literally panting now with excitement. Every nerve in my body felt like it had
been wound as tight as it could go. And suddenly, when I hardly expected it, I felt the
tip of his prick press against my cuntlips.
I gave a shudder of excitement. Partly because the physical sensation was so nice, and
partly at the thought that I was finally going to find out first hand what sex was all
about.
"I'm going to become a woman!" I said to myself. "I'm going to become a woman!
Going to become a woman!"
Ken pressed the tip of his cock against my hymen now, and I felt pretty nervous. Up to
that moment, I'd been too excited to stop and think that I was going to have to put up
with the discomfort of having his cock rammed through my maidenhead.
He gave a shove, and I felt a sharp jab of pain. Then, his cock was sliding back and
forth on the mixture of pussy-juice and blood from my maidenhead which coated the
inside of my twat.
"Nice!" I gasped. "So nice!"
He didn't say anything, but just kept sliding his prick back and forth in my cunt, going
faster and faster, getting me more and more excited. My hips were grinding against the
sofa-cushions, my breath was coming in a series of short gasps, and I knew that it
wouldn't take too much more of this action to get me off. Every time his rod buried
itself in me, I felt my cunt clutch at it, as if it wanted to make sure that his hard
member could never be pulled out again.
"Uh! Uh! Uh!" I gasped. My head was tossing from side to side, and I felt little beads of
sweat stand out on my forehead. Just a bit more action down there between the legs
would get me off, I was sure of it.
Suddenly, I noticed that his prick didn't feel quite so hard as it had just a little while
before.
"Shit!" he grunted, and moved his hips all the faster, as if he wanted to get the two of
us off as soon as he possibly could. But that didn't help his prick, which was getting
softer and softer.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!" he said, and then, "stupid little bitch!"
I couldn't for the life of me, understand why he would say such a thing, though I
guessed that it had something to do with the fact that his prick was getting softer by the
minute, even though he had not come yet.
Finally, he pulled out, leaving me gasping and unsatisfied. I knew that just a bit more
action was all I needed. As it was, I was left right on the edge of my come. I
instinctively placed my fingers against my clit, and Wham! Wham! Wham! My hips
started bucking like crazy to the force of a good, hard come!
"That's right, you dumb little bitch!" Ken sneered at me. "Finger yourself off. That's all
you're good for anyway!"
I looked at him nonplussed. What did he mean?
"Shit," he went on, "I'd just about as soon fuck with a sack of potatoes as with you. I'd
get more life out of them, anyway!"
"Ken!"
"Don't you give me that hurt shit, sister," he said. "You know as well as I do what a
fucking rotten lay you are. Why do you think I wasn't able to keep my dick hard?
Because you're so exciting? Ha! Or maybe I normally have trouble keeping it up? Is
that what you're thinking?"
The look on his face gave me reason to believe that if I said that that was what I was
thinking, I would probably be rewarded with a good slap. But in fact it didn't occur to
me to think – any such thing. After all, Ken had a reputation of being just about the
biggest stud in the whole school, and he had to have gotten that reputation some way.
If he hadn't been able to keep his prick stiff, it had to be because I had done something
wrong.
"Ken, I'm sorry," I said. "I did as good a job as I could..."
"Ken, I'm sorry," he mimicked with a sneer. "Ken, I'm sorry! I'll bet you are, you dumb
little twat. Why I bother with kids like you I'll never know. Get out of here. I'm tired of
looking at you!"
I started to cry, but that didn't cause Ken to look at me any less severely. In fact, I had
the impression that he took my tears as a sign of just what a "dumb little twat" I was. I
put my clothes back on, but Ken didn't bother with his.
"Aren't you... going to drive me home?" I asked timidly. "The last bus will have gone
by now."
"So walk! You think you deserve a ride after the fucking disaster you were as a lay? Get
out!"
I didn't have much choice but to do as he said. It was a long walk back home, and I
don't think I've ever felt so miserable in all my life. Here I'd thought that this evening
was going to be a big initiation for me, and instead I'd loused up and made a fool of
myself.
When I got home, I threw myself on my bed and started to cry. Then, I took my
clothes off and got under the covers.
As soon as the light was out, I heard a scratching at my door. I knew that that had to
be Danny Boy, my Springer spaniel. He likes to sleep at the foot of my bed, and I
needed some company, so I let him in.
He jumped up onto the bed at once, and I hugged him close to me. After being told by
Ken what a dumb little twat I was, it was nice to know that I still had a friend, even if
he was only a dog.
The funny thing was that as I hugged him, I felt myself start to get excited. My cunt
was getting definitely wet. Certainly that wasn't anything that had happened before
when I had given my dog a hug.
He seemed to be getting excited too. I could heard him take deep breaths through his
nostrils. Then I realized that perhaps he smelled the cuntjuice that I was starting to
secrete. You know how dogs sometimes try and get their heads up women's skirts
sometimes. Well, Danny Boy was no exception, and I wasn't too surprised by the fact
that he seemed to be interested in the odor of my cunt. But now, the idea that he was
interested in it turned me on all the more. That and the feeling of his warm, furry body
pressed against mine.
He was wiggling now in my arms, trying to get free. I let go of him, and he moved
down so that he had his muzzle right next to my cunt. I could hear him give some
more of those deep sniffs. Then, suddenly, I felt something wonderfully warm and soft
on my tender cunt – his tongue!
I was a bit shocked at first, but I didn't try and get his head away from my crotch. That
tongue just felt too good slurping back and forth over my labia. A sort of warm glow
was spreading through my cunt and up my spine.
For some reason, though, I wanted to see what was going on. Without moving my hips,
I reached a hand over and turned on the bedside light. The sight of the big spaniel with
his head buried between my thighs was almost as exciting, for some reason, as the
feeling of that tongue of his sliding back and forth over my tender cunt skin.
"Mmmm, nice," I moaned, almost as if he were a human lover who could understand
what I was saying. The fact that he couldn't understand didn't make him any less
enthusiastic, though. The taste of my cunt juice was driving him crazy. His tongue was
racing back and forth over my twat as he tried to drink up as much of the stuff as he
possibly could. My hips shivered with excitement.
I couldn't help wondering whether this action had gotten his prick stiff. By craning my
neck I was able to get a glimpse between his legs. Sure enough, the things had slid all
the way out of its furry sheath, and was now hard and ready for action.
Action? What kind of action was I going to give to it? That I didn't know yet, but I did
know that the feeling of that tongue of his was driving my pussy wild with excitement.
Not just my pussy, either, for that matter. My nipples were all swollen up again, and I
pressed my hands against my tits and started to fondle and caress them. When beating
off, I often used my free hand to feel up my breasts, but of course, this was much better,
since I now had both hands free.
I circled my fingertips in towards my aching nipples, getting closer and closer, and
closer. Finally, I ran them along the edge of the aureola, and then, when my nubs
thought that they were finally going to get the attention that they had been screaming
for, I moved my fingers away again. My body quivered with frustration, but it was a
sexy kind of frustration, if you know what I mean. There's no point in overdoing
things, though, and I moved my fingers back towards the frantic love-buds. This time, I
took hold of them good and hard and rubbed them vigorously, while they responded by
trying to swell up even more, though they were already huge.
"Uh! Uh! Uh! So fucking FINE! Lick me harder! Harder!"
Slurp! Slurp! Slurp!
Suddenly, the soft doggy tongue brushed against my aching clit. My whole body
seemed to go numb for just a split second, and then sensation flooded back into it as
every muscle in my body let loose in a real mind-blowing, pussy-busting COME!
COME! COME!
"Ohhhh! Man, oh man, oh man! Coming so hard! So fucking HARD!" I moaned as my
hips bucked and heaved with the force of my orgasm. The big spaniel didn't allow
himself to be distracted in the least by my come. He just kept on licking away at my
agonized, heaving womanhood as if nothing had happened.
Even when I had finished coming, and lay back on the bed gulping air like a stranded
whale, he continued to lick at me. My cuntlips were so super-sensitized by now that
they could hardly stand to be touched, but I was willing to make an exception for his
tongue.
When I'd gotten my breath back a bit, I realized that to be fair, I had to get him off too.
I could hardly just leave him with his prick all stiff like that. He wouldn't get a wink of
sleep unless I released some of the sexual tension he was under.
I pulled him away from my twat – which wasn't all that easy a thing to do, because I
kept secreting pussy-fluid down there as long as he was still licking, and as long as
there was pussy-fluid down there, his tongue didn't exactly want to stop.
"C'mon, it's for your own good, Danny-Boy," I said to him. Finally I managed to hold
his head away from me, and then I repositioned myself on the bed so that my face was
next to his prick.
I hadn't realized before just how big a dog's tool was. Of course, Ken's was the only
penis I actually had to compare it with, and I hadn't had too much of a chance to look
at that, but even so, considering the size of the dog, Danny-Boy's dork seemed larger
than one would expect.
It didn't look anything like either Ken's prick or the pictures of men's pricks in the
books we had used in sex education class back in seventh grade. For it's length, it was
much thinner, and it was also almost red in color. None of that made it any less
exciting, though, since after all, no matter what color it was, it was certainly hard.
I found myself licking my lips. The idea of sucking on it appealed to me, but it also put
me off in a way. Besides, I felt kind of exhausted after that last come, and decided that
it would be best if I just took care of the dog in the simplest way possible, without
getting myself all worked up again. After all, it was a school night, and I wanted to get
some sleep.
So, instead of slipping my lips around Danny Boy's prick, I enclosed it with the fingers
of my right hand and started rubbing, while using the fingers of my left to play with
dangling balls.
Danny-Boy stood very still, his ears raised slightly, his tail standing up. He sensed that I
was going to give him a good time, and he knew that it would be best if he cooperated.
I hadn't realized just how worked up the spaniel was. I only stroked his prick about
four times before I felt it start to quiver between my fingers, and then a stream of sperm
came gushing out in quick spurts, while he let out a series of short, sharp barks.
He really had quite a lot of spunk to shoot off, and when he was finished and his
quickly softening prick began to slide back into his cock sheath, there was some of it on
the sheets and quite a lot more dripping from my hand.
Getting him off like that had really sort of turned me on, despite the fact that I had had
such a good come just a little while before. I was sorry now that I had not opted for
sucking on his prick instead of the tamer blow-job. To try and make the best of things,
I licked some of the sperm off of my hand. As I did so, I felt a thrill of excitement go
zinging up my twat, and I knew that giving the dog a blow-job was something that I
wanted to do in the very near future.
As it was now, his sexual desires had been fully satisfied, and I knew that I couldn't
expect any more action out of him that night. I turned out the light, and went to sleep.
It's funny, seeing how guilty I feel how about all this dog-business, just how little it
bothered me at the time. I didn't have any trouble getting to sleep that night, and in the
morning, even though the events of the previous night seemed kind of unreal, I wasn't
really bothered by them.
As a matter-of-fact, there was even a certain feeling of self-satisfaction. Here Ken had
told me what a terrible lay I was, but another male had found me perfectly satisfactory.
True, that male was a male Springer spaniel, but so what? That' didn't mean he didn't
know a good thing when he saw it.
At school, I kept saying to myself as I looked at the boys, "they all think that they're
such hot shit, but they don't have the nerve to try anything. And those who do aren't
able to finish what they start!"
I also felt sort of superior to the other girls, or at least to those whom I was pretty sure
were still virgins.
I felt really antsy all day, with my panties soggy and my clit hard much of the time. I
really could hardly stand to wait to get home so that Danny Boy and I could have some
more action together. The hours really seemed to crawl by, but at last I was home and
up in my room with the dog. I almost literally tore my clothes off in my haste to get
started.
Danny-Boy's a really intelligent dog, and when he saw me undress he guessed what it
was that I had in mind. His prick started to slide out of its sheath, and his tongue hung
out of his mouth. Tongue and prick both looked pretty good to me, but since I had
already had some good tongue action, but hadn't had a chance to do much more with
the prick than give it a few strokes with my hand, I decided to start in on the dog's
penis first.
I got on my hands and knees and moved up to Danny-Boy so that my head was near
his hind legs. He didn't know exactly what I had in mind, but he was perceptive
enough to guess that I was up to something that involved his prick, and as a result he
was very tense and excited.
I feasted my eyes on his dick. It was almost all the way out of the sheath now. I
touched it gently, and slid the rest of the way out. It was now as hard as an iron bar. I
moved my head under his belly, and inhaled the doggy smell. Somehow, that really
turned me on. The idea that I was actually going to suck a dog's prick – not some
boy's, but a dog's – really had me wound up. My clit was as stiff as his dork was, and I
could feel drop after drop of female lubricant ooze out of my cunt.
I hesitated for a second – I don't really know why, but maybe it was because I had
never had any prick of any kind in my mouth before – and then I kissed the tip of his
cock.
The dog shivered with excitement, and let out a low whine of pleasure. I kissed the tip
of the prick again, and then slid my lips over the thing. As I did so, all feelings of
strangeness disappeared, and I knew just how badly I had wanted to have that dog's
dick in my mouth.
I started off by sliding my lips back and forth along his cock, so as to sort of stimulate
the feelings that it would be receiving if it were sliding back and forth inside my cunt.
Then, I stopped moving my mouth and concentrated on sucking away at the root of the
prick. All the while, my fingers continued to feel up the dog's balls. Danny Boy was
breathing in short, sharp gasps, and his tail was wagging back and forth like a
metronome.
I felt really excited now. My hanging tits were aching for some action, and so was my
cunt. I reached my free hand down between my legs and started to feel up my twat. I
had masturbated many times before, and was good at it. I knew that my cunt, like my
tits, really liked to be teased and tantalized. So I moved my fingertips back and forth
along my relatively insensitive outer labia while my inner lips were just begging for
attention. Finally, I gave them what they wanted, as I pulled gently at the soft, wet
folds. Then, I slid my fingers up my cunt and pressed their joints against the tender
cunt walls. I wriggled my hips with excitement. But none of that nice hand-action there
below her waist was doing anything like as good a job of turning me on as was the
excitement of having a dog's prick in my mouth.
Since the animal's dork was so long, the fact that I was sucking on its root meant that
the tip of the thing was pressed back against the back of my mouth, almost making me
gag. But that didn't matter. It was a nice sensation too, in its own way.
Suddenly, the dog started to move his hips back and forth quickly, causing his prick to
slide back and forth between my lips. For a moment I was surprised, and then I realized
what was involved. As a dog, he had never had his cock sucked before, and didn't have
any instinct for that sort of thing. Although he liked the action that I was giving to him,
all his instincts led him to convert the blowjob into a sort of a fuck. He was fucking my
mouth as if it were a cunt!
I didn't have any objections to that at all. The funny, jerky motion of the dog's dick was
very exciting in its own way. In fact, just thinking of what it would be like to have it in
my cunt made me give a little shiver of pleasure. And whether I sucked his dick, or he
fucked my mouth, I was going to end out with a mouthful of dog-sperm anyway, and
that was what I was after.
Suddenly, the cock started to quiver, and I knew that it was about to fire. I pressed my
thumb and forefinger against my super-sensitive labia, with the result that my cunt
shuddered off into its come at just the exact moment that he started firing away with
that virile tool of his.
Splat! Splat! Splat! Gob after gob of dog-cream gushed against the back of my mouth as
his balls really unloaded into me, sending the warm stuff shooting through his
quivering prick in spasm after spasm of canine fuck-frenzy.
And all the while, I was coming, and coming really hard, too, with my hips bucking,
my clit tingling, and my cunt contracting frantically around the fingers I still had stuck
up it.
At last, the dog stopped ejaculating, and I rested there on my hands and knees for a
while, sort of sloshing sperm around in my mouth, and basting the penis with it. Then,
I eased my lips off of Danny-Boy's now – softening prick. I was careful not to spill a
drop of the stuff.
Once I had my lips disengaged, I walked over to my mirror and carefully opened my
mouth while keeping my head tilted back slightly. It really was kind of a neat feeling to
look in the mirror and see that pool of spunk there in my mouth. I even used my
tongue to force a bit of it over my lower lip, so that I could watch it dribble down my
chin. After that, I swallowed the sperm in one big, satisfied gulp.
Danny-Boy was lying contentedly on the bed, his head between his paws. Clearly, he
was pretty satisfied with what he had just gotten by way of a come, but I hoped that I
could get him ready for some more action pretty soon. I knew that it was too early to
expect much more out of him right at that moment, and anyway, I wanted a chance to
get my breath back a bit anyway. When I come, it's a total experience, and it really
leaves me kind of wrung out for a while. But to kind of lay the groundwork for future
fun, I sat down on the bed next to him and fondled his prick sheath. The cock came
sliding a little way out, and I realized that I would probably not have to wait too long
before he was ready for action again.
To pass the time, I went down to the kitchen and made myself some lemonade. It tasted
good, but nothing like as good as the dog-sperm that I had had in my mouth only a
little while earlier. I we back upstairs.
As soon as I entered the room, Danny-Boy's ears pricked up instantly, and his tongue
came sliding out of his mouth. I could guess that he was already starting to get horny
again. When I got him as a puppy, I picked him out because he looked so much cuter
than the rest of the litter. I guess I was just lucky in getting a dog that was not only
good-looking but oversexed.
I sat down next to him and felt up his prick sheath once more. This time, the results
were dramatic. The cock came sliding out into the open at once, and Danny-Boy gave a
yelp of pleasure, too. I gave the cock a squeeze, then lay back on the bed with my legs
spread.
Instantly, I felt the pressure of his tongue on my cunt. That was delicious, but it was
not exactly what I had had in mind. What I wanted was a fuck.
"C'mon, boy," I said, "be smart, huh?" I took hold of his forelegs and tugged on them,
trying to pull him up so that his cock would be level with my cunt, so to speak. That
would, I hoped, inspire him to stick his tool on in. No such luck. In fact, he kind of
dug his paws into the mattress so as to stay in place. He didn't want to be prevented
from licking my cunt.
"Frustrating damn dog!" I muttered to myself. Then I realized how dumb I was being.
Here I was expecting this dog to fuck me just like a human being would. But dogs are
creatures of instinct, and there's only one kind of fucking that they normally do with
each other, and that's from behind.
I got up on my hands and knees with my cunt pointing at him, just as if I were a
female dog. That idea of being my pet spaniel's bitch in heat really turned me on, by
the way, and I was very eager for him to figure out what the score was and get down to
business.
Again, he tried to lick my cunt, but when I reached my hands back and lifted his
forepaws up onto my ass, there was no resistance like there had been before. And once
his paws were raised like that, the penny dropped. The position he was in was like one
he had used dozens of times before to fuck other dogs. He knew now what was
expected of him.
I felt him move his paws up my back – the claws scratching slightly as he did so – then
he jabbed at my cunt with his prick. I say jabbed because I guess that relatively
speaking, a woman's cunt and a bitch's are in somewhat different positions, and he
missed mine and rammed the tip of his prick against my labia.
I winced slightly, and thought of reaching back and taking hold of his cock to guide it
into me. But either by luck or intelligence, the next try he made got the end of his cock
between the soft folds which enclosed my cunt, and one more thrust had him inside
me.
As soon as his rod was in me, he started bucking away frantically. My only sexual
experience of cocks dealt with Ken's, and that wasn't much to go on, but as I recalled, it
was sure different from this. Ken had started kind of slowly and easily, and then
worked up to a faster and faster pace until misfortune overtook him. But right from the
start Danny-Boy was working my cunt faster than Ken had, and there wasn't much
change in pace from that moment on.
My tits were hanging away heavily from my body. As you can see, Doctor, I'm fairly
well endowed for my age. There was something very exciting about the feel of them
hanging free like that, but there were some other things that I wanted to try out on
them too. Using one hand to support my body, I pressed the other one against my tits,
then let them flop back down again. I swung the things from side to side, too, and of
course all the while I was rubbing my nipples between my thumb and forefinger,
pulling on the pink rosebuds, tickling, them, tweaking them, and generally driving
them wild with excitement.
Buck! Buck! Buck! Back and forth that dog-dick slammed, gliding on the layer of cunt
lubricant that I was so busily secreting.
Danny-Boy was panting in time to his thrusts, and it was obvious that he was very, very
excited. But he certainly didn't have any way of being much more turned on than I was.
"Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" I gasped as my cunt clutched frantically at his cock
every time he drove it home.
I felt like a clock being over wound. I could hardly breath, hardly think, and still the
wonderful, agonizing fuck went on.
In! Out! In! Out!
Just a few more strokes would do it! Just a few more...
Buck! Buck! Buck!
Almost there... almost... almost...
Then, suddenly I... was... COMING!
I felt like I was going to explode as suddenly every muscle in my body released all its
built-up tension. I bucked and heaved and trembled as my cunt grabbed hard at the
dog's dick. And the feeling of my come was enough to get him off. His penis started to
shoot, and soon he was really unloading into me. He had already had a come, but
either he didn't shoot everything off then, or he managed to manufacture some more
spunk awfully fast, because that sure wasn't any dry come that I was getting. I could
feel that dog-cream spurt against the entrance to my womb.
Finally, we were done, and he pulled out almost immediately. I flopped down on the
bed, gasping for breath and thinking what a lucky girl I was to have such a good sexual
partner available.
For a couple of weeks I guess I was really pretty happy. I didn't feel guilty about the
fact that I was fucking with my dog, and my twat was getting plenty of exercise, too.
But then, I don't know why, I started to think about how sort of odd it was for me to
limit my sex life to my dog. I didn't want to grow up to be some kind of screwball, and
when the other girls at school talked about the guys they had made out with or fucked
with, I felt sort of out of it. After all, I could hardly tell them about my "boyfriend",
could I?
I guess that that's why when Jim asked me out, I was glad to accept. Not that I planned
on giving up with canine sex, but I figured that it would be nice to expand my
repertoire to include the human kind, too.
Jim was completely different from Ken. He obviously liked my company, and didn't
make any effort to fuck me on our first date. That kind of disappointed me, but I didn't
make any advances myself, since I didn't want to get a reputation in the school as being
overly-aggressive.
He did decide to make me on the second date, and I was ready to be made. Soon, I had
my legs spread and his cock inside my cunt.
I had to admit that the action compared favorably with that which I got from DannyBoy, 
though it was completely different, too, and everything seemed to be going fine
until I realized that I was not being aroused. He was grunting and puffing away like
crazy, and I could see that he was getting turned on as hell. But even though the feeling
of his hard dick sliding up and down inside my cunt was certainly pleasant enough,
there just wasn't any real feeling of excitement or arousal.
I could see from the look in Jim's eyes that he was puzzled and a bit worried about my
lack of responsiveness to the action he was giving me. I decided to fake it for the sake
of his feelings. Soon, I was gasping and grunting every bit as much as he was, but it
was all an act. I tried to concentrate, tried to actually make myself enjoy the fuck, but
no luck. I wasn't getting anything out of it at all.
Finally, he came in a series of good, hard gushes, and of course I pretended to come
too. But I had a hard time afterwards keeping from crying.
"What the hell have I gotten myself into?" I wondered as he lay next to me and stroked
my cheek. It looked as if I had really blown things for good. I seemed to be so fixed on
the idea of fucking with a dog that I couldn't get anything out of fucking with a human
being. And though a dog can offer a certain kind of companionship that's really nice,
there are other things that only another person can offer, and that I didn't want to have
to do without for the rest of my life.
When I got home, my parents were out, but Danny-Boy was there to greet me. I felt
sort of pissed at him, to tell the truth. It was perfectly obvious from the way he was
wagging his tail, and the way his tongue was hanging out, what it was that he wanted.
But I couldn't help blaming him for the fact that I hadn't been able to enjoy the fuck
with Jim, and I was determined not to have sex with the dog. But he kept following me
around and rubbing against my legs, and finally I had to admit that I was being unfair
to him. Unfair to myself too, for that matter, since the unsuccessful fuck I had had with
Jim had left me all tense and in need of a proper come.
"Okay, fellah," I said to him. This time, though, I was going to try something different
in the hope of trying to get myself accustomed to the idea of being fucked by a boy. I
would try and get my dog to fuck me face-to-face.
The first thing I did after undressing was to smear beef extract all over my tits, and
above all on my nipples. Then, I went upstairs and lay down on the bed next to DannyBoy.
The smell of the beef – extract attracted him to my tits instantly, and he started to lick
on them, instead of my cunt, as he would have otherwise done. I maneuvered my legs
so that they were on either side of him, then pressed his rump to get him to sit. That
having been accomplished, I sort of scooted down so that my cunt was rubbing against
his hard prick.
He instinctively shoved his cock in once I had slipped the entrance to my vagina over
the end of his cock, and once he had done that, he started bucking away like mad while
continuing to lick my tits.
Man! It was really quite a fuck! I had the tongue action on my tits, the feeling of that
cock of his sliding back and forth like mad inside my twat, and the pleasure of playing
with his ears and patting his head. Being fucked from behind is so anonymous! But this
way, I knew it was my old friend who was fucking me.
At first, the thrusts of his prick were not quite as even or as firm as the ones I had
gotten when he fucked me from behind. Clearly, he was unused to the new position.
But he's a bright dog, Doctor, like I said, and it wasn't long before he had things
figured out and was really giving it to me with that hard dog-dork of his.
"Fine! So goddam fine!" I gasped. My cunt was already feeling really hot and bothered,
as every one of those fast, jerky strokes of his pulled my tender labia across my aching
clit.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Little beads of sweat were standing out on my forehead now, and my head was tossing
from side to side. And all the while, that tongue of his was continuing to lick at my
nipples.
I knew that the come couldn't be far off and that was good, because I also knew that I
just couldn't stand very much more of this action that I was getting from him.
Cock! Cunt! Cock! Cunt! Man, oh man, oh man!
Then, suddenly, I felt his prick start to quiver inside me as it came, and that was
enough to get my cunt to respond in the same fashion, clutching frantically at the
shuddering male rod.
"Ah! Ah! AHHHHHHHH!" I gasped as the come ripped through me with a force that
I thought was going to break me in two. I was coming, and coming, and coming!
And when it was over, I just couldn't understand why the fuck with Jim had been such
a bust when this one was so good. Sure, the dog's technique was different, but I
couldn't bring myself to really believe that that was what the main cause of the problem
was. I knew that it had to be something deeper, and that it didn't really matter whether
I fucked with Danny-Boy from the front or the back. There was no amount of
practicing that I could do that would enable me to have an orgasm with a human
partner, and the thought depressed me. Like it or not, I was stuck with dogs, and the
thought depressed me.
That was a couple of weeks ago, and I guess the feeling of being wrapped has grown
worse. Every time I fuck with Danny-Boy, the fuck itself is great, but the depression
afterwards is something else. And although I've fucked several more times with Jim, I
haven't come close to an orgasm once with him. So anyway, this all really has started to
get to me, and I figured that I had better try and get some kind of professional help.
Rebecca's feeling that she would not be able to find a way out of her psychological
difficulties without professional help was completely correct, for she is a good example
of the situation where a person who is already psychologically vulnerable is suddenly
exposed to an overwhelmingly traumatizing event.
The event, of course, is the behavior of her first lover, Ken. It is not hard for any
perceptive individual to see that Ken was clearly a highly insecure sort of person who
tried to compensate for this insecurity by playing a super-masculine role. Needless to
say, the conflict between the role and what he subconsciously saw as his real capabilities
generated a great deal of tension, and it was this tension and insecurity which led to his
attacks of impotence. I say "attacks" because I would be willing to stake my life that
Rebecca was not the first girl he was unable to perform with, and that the only reason
he was able to maintain his reputation as the school stud was the success with which he
made his partners believe that they were the ones at fault. Reputations are rather self
reinforcing things anyway, and the fact that his girls normally were younger than him
aided him in the deception. Certainly, the kind of response that Rebecca describes
herself as having given him would have been perfectly adequate to keep most males
stimulated.
To be accused of sexual inadequacy as she was is, of course, a severe blow to anyone's
ego. But in her case it was made much worse by the fact that her attitude towards sex,
like that of many adolescents, was very performance-oriented. Sex was something that
she had always wanted to try out, like some new gadget. Rather than being a gesture
that emphasized the affection which two people share, it was a badge of adulthood. She
never stopped to ask herself if she loved or even really like Ken. She knew that he was
the class stud, and that was enough.
Thus, while a girl with a profounder sense of what sex should be might have been able
to rise above the trauma presented by Ken's accusation, she was not. His charges hit
home because they corroborated fears within her that she might not be grown up.
Might not "be a woman".
The involvement with her dog was partly accidental. Partly, it was compensation. In
other words, she could reassure herself by saying, in effect, "someone finds me sexually
attractive". But human motives are often paradoxical and self-contradictory, and as well
as furnishing comfort and reassurance, the bestiality also provided her with
punishment. Her self respect had been almost destroyed by the incident with Ken, and
by taking a dog as a lover it was as if she were saying despondently, "I guess that this is
all that I'm good for." A third factor was also involved. Ken's treatment of her left her
feeling deeply hostile towards boys. It thus provided her with a considerable amount of
subconscious satisfaction to think that she didn't need boys. She could despise them
and not feel in danger of being dependent on them, either.
Of course, it is not surprising that these feelings did not totally engulf her personality,
and that another part of her wanted the kind of tenderness and love which only a
human lover could possibly provide. But when she took a human lover – and the one
she took appears to have been a perfectly acceptable young man – the factors which
caused her to turn to bestiality in the first place prevented her from achieving
satisfaction with him. Subconsciously, she had begun sexual relations with her dog in
part as a means of diminishing her own self-respect in punishment for what she
believed to be her inadequacy. Thus, she did not feel good enough for Jim, and further,
her subconscious knew that if she allowed herself to feel good enough for him, the drive
to self-punishment would be effectively short-circuited. The mind often works at cross
purposes like this. In addition, the hostility which she felt for men was present in her
relations with Jim, though on a deeply subconscious level. So too was her fear of them,
her fear of being hurt by a man like Ken had hurt her. Thus, to her subconscious, non
responsiveness seemed like the best course. If she kept her barriers up, she would be
safe.
Of course, another factor present in her inability to have an orgasm with Jim was fear
of failure. Ken had told her that she was not an adequate lover, and a part of her mind,
at least, wanted to prove that she could be an adequate lover. Unfortunately, sex is one
of those activities where the harder one tries, the less likely one is to succeed. A man
who feels that his penis is going soft on him cannot will his penis to stay stiff. Rather,
the anxiety he feels at losing his erection will simply cause him to lose it all the faster.
In the same way, poor Rebecca was trying so hard to enjoy Jim's lovemaking that she
wound herself up into a state of worry and anxiety which effectively precluded any
enjoyment of anything.
Rebecca had managed to suppress her feelings of guilt about her bestial involvement at
first, but these had progressively worked their way to the surface, as feelings have a
tendency to do. And the sudden realization that she was in danger of permanently
cutting herself off from a normal sex life added to the dissatisfaction which she felt with
her current life-style. Thus, therapy – whose purpose, in all cases, is to make the
patient feel happier was clearly indicated.
Since her problem was rather complex, it had to be attacked on a number of levels. Her
hostility towards men was something which she had to talk out, and in the meantime, I
sought to orient her towards seeing males not just as sexual partners but as fellow
human being and potential friends. She began dating, but I forbad her to have
intercourse with the boys, because I was afraid that to do so before other aspects of her
problem had been worked out would simply get her right back in the "performance
trap" again.
It was only after a couple of years of therapy, when I saw that she had adopted a much
more mature attitude towards the opposite sex, that I allowed her to have intercourse
with a man. She did not achieve orgasm the first few times, but my assurances to her
that orgasm was not the be-all and end-all of life prevented this from being the crushing
blow it might have otherwise been. She had acquired confidence in the therapy and was
willing to play a waiting game. Finally, the wait played off, when, in the arms of a boy
whom she liked and respected, she was able to achieve orgasm. Her frigidity with
human partners did not reappear, and as she saw that she could have a normal sex life,
her interest in canine sex trailed off to nothing.


Case History 2

Mrs. Helen K. was an attractive, twenty-five year-old brunette, simply dressed, but in a
manner that showed she had sound taste. The pretty summer dress she wore did not do
anything to conceal the anxiety which she evidently felt.
"My marriage seems to be falling apart, Doctor," she said, "and I guess a good deal of
the fault is mine. You see, I have rather... strange desires, it turns out. And I haven't
been very successful at keeping them in check."
"How long have you been married, Mrs. K.?" I asked her.
"A year," she said. "And at first, I thought it was really going to be a perfect marriage,
too. But then the troubled started."
"What sort of trouble?"
"The trouble with our sex lives," she said. "You're referring to these 'strange desires'
you mentioned?"
"Yes, but that's not all. My husband has problems too."
"Mrs. K.," I said, "I understand that you feel very nervous at the moment, and that
you're hesitant to reveal much of yourself to me. That's perfectly natural, seeing as this
is your first session with me, but if I'm to help you, I'm afraid that you're just going to
have to be less evasive. For instance, what exactly are these desires of yours that you
think are so strange, and what are your husband's 'problems'?"
She gulped, and then said, "I like to have sex with animals. And my husband is
basically impotent." She stared at me rather accusingly, as if she resented the fact that I
had made her reveal her secret. In fact, I was not particularly surprised by what she had
said. Certainly her so-called 'strange desires' could have been something else –
lesbianism, for instance – but bestiality is too common for me to have been in any way
astonished by her admission. As for the husband's impotence, that was almost expected.
When a person admits to suddenly finding what he or she regards as abnormal desires
developing in his or her personality, a partial cause is often unsatisfactory performance
on the part of the marriage partner.
"Well," I said to her, "certainly there's nothing that unusual about what you've told me,
and if you let me have the whole story, I think that I may well be able to help you."
"All right," she said, "when I decided to come see you I told myself that I would do
anything to save my marriage, so here goes..."
Like I said, Doctor, Will and I have been married for a year. We went together for
about another year before that. All during that time, he didn't make any attempt to get
me into bed. He used to say, "I think it'll be better if we wait until we're married, don't
you?" And I figured that I had to answer yes, even though that wasn't strictly speaking
true. I had slept with other men before, and I didn't see any reason why Will and I
couldn't have a go together. But I decided that even though my cunt was hot for some
action, I had better go along with what he wanted. If he thought I was a super pure,
virginal type, I didn't want to shock him by saying, "frankly, I think we should ball."
In fact, I was a bit worried that after we were married, I'd find out that he wasn't such a
hot bed partner, but since I was so in love with him, I decided that that was just a risk
that I would have to take. On our wedding night, he performed really well. His cock
was good and hard, he didn't come too soon, and even though his lack of experience
showed a bit, I figured that that was something which time would take care of.
Then, about three months ago, his sexual interest and ability really started to taper off.
It used to be that we fucked about every other night. That was less than I really wanted,
but it was an amount that I could get by on. But then it fell to twice a week, and after
that once a week. And each time, his prick seemed to get less firm.
Finally, two months ago, he lost pressure so badly that he just wasn't able to complete
the fuck.
"Sorry, honey," he said as he pulled his limp prick out of me, "but I guess that I'm just
not in the mood."
I understand that almost every guy has an off night now and then, but this seemed to
kill all his interest in trying again. I didn't want to try and pressure him for some action
at first, since I thought that would just make things more difficult for him. But when
two weeks had gone by, and he just kissed me goodnight like a sister every night, got
into bed and went to sleep, I figured that as a wife I had some right to ask for more in
the fuck department.
"Darling," I would say, snuggling up to him, "I sure could use a bit of loving."
"You know I love you," he would answer. That really kind of infuriated me. The way he
would answer, I mean, as if he didn't understand that what I meant by "a little loving"
was a little physical loving.
I tried to be patient, but finally I said to him, "Honey, a woman just can't go without
prick forever. I've got to have some now!"
"Okay, okay," he said, as if I had asked him to perform some sort of really unpleasant
chore. He rolled over and started to fondle me, and I gave his prick all the loving
attention that you'd think would be necessary to get a prick good and hard. But no
luck. For a while it was sort of rubbery and half-hard, but that was the best that I could
manage.
"Sorry, honey," he said, "but that's just the way it is." And he rolled back over. I
guessed that that way the last time that he was ever going to try anything in the way of
fucking, and I was dead right.
It wasn't long before I felt so frustrated that I was just about ready to climb the wall.
Every waking moment I found myself dreaming about a good hard prick that someone
would shove up my wet pussy and slam back and forth until we both came like crazy. I
knew that I was never going to be getting any prick like that from Will, and every time
I thought about that I was sure I was going to burst into tears.
I tried beating off, but a finger-job, no matter how good, is a pretty poor substitute for
good, hard dick. I could maybe have taken a lover, but I still kept hoping that
something would happen to save our marriage. I tried suggesting to Will that he go to a
doctor, or something, but he always refused.
And as I got more and more desperate, I got more and more interested in the animals.
You see, Will owns a pet shop. Its stock in trade is high-class dogs and cats, though he
has a few more exotic animals in the place too.
When I say I got more and more interested in the animals, you have to understand that
I didn't realize at first that the interest was sexual. I just found myself spending more
time stroking them, and looking after them. There was one great big Siamese tomcat
named Ying that I was particularly fond of.
One night, I got up to go to the bathroom. I hadn't been able to get to sleep, mainly
because I was so unhappy at the fact that my husband was just lying there snoring
instead of giving my cunt a good, hard bang. I decided, since I knew that I wouldn't be
able to get to sleep for a while, that I might as well go check on the animals and see
that they were all right. Maybe my husband neglected me, but that didn't mean that I
was going to neglect them.
The shop is on the first floor, under our apartment. I went down and turned on the
lights. Every thing seemed to be fine, I noticed, as I inspected the cages. Most of the
animals were sleeping, but Ying, the big Siamese tomcat, was not.
"You having insomnia too, Ying?" I asked him. He just stared at me with his big, blue
eyes.
I felt so lonely and unhappy that I just needed some kind of company. I opened the
cage and took the big pedigreed cat out. He's actually quite affectionate, and as soon as
I had him in my arms he started licking my hand. That raspy tongue of his felt strange,
but very nice, somehow.
One of the reasons I had been going to the bathroom had been that I planned to
masturbate there. I figured that I could hardly do that with my husband lying next to
me in bed, since presumably his feelings would be really hurt if he found out what I
was up to, namely trying to supply myself some of the pleasure that he was hopeless at
providing me with.
The result was that I felt pretty horny, and somehow having that big, furry male cat in
my arms made me feel hornier. As he continued to lick my hand, I had a sudden wild
idea. Well, it was more a sudden fit of curiosity. I couldn't help wondering what it
would be like to feel that raspy tongue of his on my poor, neglected clit.
I lay back on the floor and positioned the cat so that his brown, wedge-shaped face was
right between my thighs. Ying didn't need a bit more encouragement than that. I
imagine that a woman and a female cat smell quite different in the cunt, but I wouldn't
be surprised if there was a certain common female quality to both. And of course, since
he was a championship cat, Ying had never been deballed. As soon as his face was next
to my cunt, he pressed his nose against it. In fact, he actually worked the end of his
furry muzzle up my cunt part way. The feeling of that smooth cat fur against the inside
of my twat was nice, but the poor animal hadn't figured out that there would be any
way for him to breath with his nose and mouth up my twat, so he gave a sneeze and
pulled out. After that, he just licked.
Man! I tell you, Doctor, I honestly thought that I was going to go straight out of my
mind the moment I felt that tongue of his pull against my sensitive cuntlips. That
raspy, sand paper effect right on the most tender, female part of my body! My shoulders
shuddered with pleasure as I felt him lick.
It was nice to hold his furry body between my hands, but I had better use to put my
fingers to. So I let go of him and moved my hands up to my tits.
My breasts are just about as sensitive as my cunt, and since I had both hands free I
could work on both of them simultaneously while Ying supplied the action between my
legs.
I started by cupping my tits and pressing them against my chest and against each other,
too. Then I rubbed my nipples between the thumb and forefinger of each hand. The
nipples were already pretty stiff, but the finger action was all that was needed to make
them swell up to about three times their normal size. I gasped and panted as I ran my
fingertips over the aching pink rosebuds. And all the while, that cat was licking away
on my twat.
My thighs were trembling with excitement now, and my whole cunt-area was
completely awash with cunt-juice. And man, did that pussycat ever like my pussy-juice.
He licked faster and faster, and I could feel that he was licking in the way that a cat
does when it wants to get cream out of a bowl. I just couldn't believe those machinegun 
like strokes of his tongue.
All of a sudden, I felt my body go momentarily numb, and then a tidal-wave of
sensation hit it, as I started to come, and come, and come!
"AHHHHHH! OHHHHHH!" I granted as my hips bucked and heaved with the force
of my fantastic pussy-explosion. And all the while, the big Siamese tomcat continued to
lick at my agonized twat. He didn't want to miss a drop of that cuntjuice.
Finally my body gave a last shudder, and was still. I lay back on the tile floor of the
shop, gasping for breath. And the cat was still licking.
"There's a good kitty," I said, grabbing him to pull him away from my cunt. Even
though he's a very affectionate cat, he took a swipe at me with his right paw that would
have left five parallel lines on the back of my hand if it had connected. Clearly, he
didn't want to be taken away from my twat.
I could see why, too. His cat-prick had slid all the way out of its furry sheath, and was
clearly as hard as it, or any other cock for that matter, could ever get.
"A lot harder than some pricks I know of," I thought a trifle spitefully.
The beast was clearly in a state of extreme sexual tension and frustration, and I knew
perfectly well that it would be unfair of me to just plunk it back in its cage without
doing something to ease that tension. Assuming, of course, that it would have been
possible for me to do that without getting my hands slashed to ribbons, which it
certainly would not.
A cat's prick isn't very big, but sometimes a tidbit can look even more appetizing than a
huge hunk of food. I licked my lips and thought how nice that hard dick would be in
my mouth. But I knew that that was not something that it would be wise for me to try,
not without giving the matter some more thought, anyway. I knew how tense and
frustrated the cat was, and I also had firsthand experience of the fact that he liked to
express that frustration with his claws. I couldn't possibly risk those claws near my face
while I gave him a blow job. My hand, on the contrary, was something that I was more
willing to take risks with.
So, without trying to move him away from my cunt for the time being, I reached my
right hand under his belly and started to stroke his cock very gently.
He gave a loud meow – one of those strange meows that Siamese give – but didn't try
and scratch me. I stroked harder, and soon all his attention was concentrated on the
action that I was giving his prick with my hand, and I was able to scoot my cunt out of
range of his mouth, which was good, because my twat was so sensitive by now that it
could hardly bear to be touched at all, least of all by a cat's sandpaper tongue.
Ying was already so turned on by the cunt lapping that he had just finished that it only
took a few strokes of my hand to have his prick shooting. The hard little stick trembled
between my fingers as gob after gob of cat-spunk came shooting out. A good deal of it
landed on my hand, and after he had finished ejaculating, I held my hand close to my
face so that I could get a good look and a sniff at it.
The idea of licking it off my hand turned me on in a way, but it also seemed like a
really odd thing to do, too. Finally, though, my desire to see what it tasted like got the
better of me, and I licked the stuff up with my tongue. It tasted ordinary enough, I
guess, but somehow the idea of having it on my tongue caused my clit to tingle with
excitement. My husband, incidentally, never let me have oral sex with him. He once
said that he thought it was "kind of unnatural," if you can believe that!
I put the cat back in his cage, and got back into bed. I could hardly believe what I had
been up to, but one reason that I don't think I felt any guilt was the sight of my
husband's back as he lay there next to me snoring away as if he didn't have a care in
the world. Besides, I've never thought that there was anything wrong with
masturbation, and that's what this seemed like to me – a tricky kind of masturbation.
The whole business, particularly the way it was secret from my husband, struck me as
more of a prank than anything else.
Prank or not, I thought about it all the next day while I waited on customers in the
shop. It really had been fun, and I could hardly wait for night to come so that Ying and
I could go at it again. I even had an idea how I could safely get some spunk of his in
my mouth in a more direct way than just licking it off my hand. The worse moment in
the day came when someone seemed very interested in buying Ying. Since my husband
wasn't in earshot, I told the customer that Ying was a rather neurotic, bad-tempered cat,
and tried to steer him towards another Siamese. The customer said he'd have to think
the matter over, and departed. Since I knew that I couldn't count on having my feline
lover from one day to the next (for some reason I was particularly attracted to Ying
even though we had plenty of other cats), I was determined to have as much fun with
him as I possibly could now.
So, when my husband was asleep – he falls asleep very easily, and no longer makes any
pretense about the fact that he thinks beds are only for sleeping in – I got out of bed
and headed downstairs to the cages.
Ying was asleep this time, but as soon as I scratched his head he woke up, and I could
tell from the eager way he began to lick my hand what it was that he really wanted to
lick. I think that variety is the best part of sex-unlike my husband, who when he fucked
with me always wanted to do the missionary position – so tonight I had something else
in mind.
"Okay, Ying," I said, taking him out of his cage, "I know you'll think that what I'm
about to do is sort of strange, but it's a necessary precaution, and if you hold still your
prick will get a nice reward when I'm finished."
What I wanted to do was make his paws safe for my face, I had brought four folded
handkerchiefs down from the bedroom, and I proceeded to wrap one around each of
his paws. He didn't much like that, but every time he started to get out of control, I
would stroke his prick and speak soothingly to him. He was smart enough to associate
what I was doing with the prick-action that he was getting, and although he doubtless
couldn't figure out just what it was that I had in mind, he realized that the best thing
for him to do would be to keep still.
Finally, I had each paw securely wrapped up in a handkerchief held on by an elastic
band. That meant that he couldn't get his claws out, and that if he took a swipe at my
face with his paws, I wouldn't have anything to worry about.
I felt rather proud of my brainstorm for neutralizing the danger of his claws, but I
didn't want to waste time on self-congratulation. The important thing was that I could
now suck on his prick, and my lips were really hungry for it.
I picked the animal up and plunked him down near my head. Then, I started to suck
on his cock.
The thing was already most of the way out of its sheath, but a couple more sucks got it
to come out further still, and stiffen up until it was about as hard as a fountain pen.
That's about how thick it was, too. But of course, it was a great deal more sensitive than
any fountain pen could ever be, and a great deal more fun to suck on. Besides, who ever
heard of a fountain pen that would shoot lots of lovely sperm into a woman's mouth?
He gave a low-pitched meow as he felt my lips press against the red skin of his cock. It
turned out that my precaution with the handkerchiefs was hardly necessary, however.
He was smart enough to realize that the way to make sure of having this nice action on
his prick continue was for him to behave himself, and he stood very, very still while I
sucked on him.
With my right hand, I played with his balls, stroking the tight little sack and sort of
rolling it from side to side between my fingers. That left one hand free, and though my
tits would have liked some attention, I happened to know of a certain place between my
legs that would enjoy the attention of my fingers even more! I ran my fingers up and
down the inside of my thighs for a moment, as a sort of preliminary, then started to
trail my fingertips very lightly over my cuntlips.
Wow! I was already so turned on by having that cat-prick between my lips that when I
touched my cunt, I honestly thought for a moment that I was going to start coming
right then and there! My body gave a convulsive shudder, and I took my fingers away
for a moment to make sure that I didn't climax too soon, because I thought it would be
nicer if the cat and I could have our comes at the same time. When I felt that my twat
had cooled down a bit, I started feeling my cunt up again. I trailed the fingertips in a
very light, teasing kind of way back and forth over my tingling labia. My clit was just
screaming to be touched, but I knew just how sensitive my female trigger was, and was
aware that the instant I touched it, I would be coming. So instead, I limited myself to
the labia, or to sliding my fingers up into my twat and then pressing their joints against
the cunt-walls.
All of this was driving me wild down below the waist, but I felt just as turned on by the
feeling of that cat-cock in my mouth. I have very sensitive lips in the first place – that's
one reason that I'm as fond of kissing as I am – and anyway, the idea of sucking on a
cat's penis was just very exciting anyway.
Ying was standing still with his leg muscles very tense. He would give a sort of whining
meow from time to time. The rest of the while, I could hear him breathe in short, sharp
little gasps. I could tell from the incredible stiffness of his prick that he was very, very
worked up, and would be coming at any time. That was good, because given the way
my cunt felt, I couldn't count on it staying quiet for much longer.
To vary things a bit for Ying, I would switch from sucking the root of his prick to
sucking the tip, and then go back to the root. To add a bit of sexy frustration, I took my
mouth all the way off of his cock and sucked on his balls. I was rewarded by a swat
from one of his padded paws. He clearly didn't like the idea of having his cock
neglected. It seemed that the action he really liked best was having me slide my lips
quickly up and down the length of his cock.
Suddenly, his prick gave the final little stiffening that you notice with men's dorks, too,
and I knew he would be coming in the next split second, and so I instantly pressed my
clit hard between my thumb and forefinger.
BING! That was all that was needed to get my cunt exploding like a Fourth of July
firework display! The hard little button had been begging for a share of the action for
the past several minutes, and here it was suddenly getting more than it could stand! My
hips bucked and heaved to the force of my come, while every muscle in my body
rippled with unleashed female fuck-frenzy.
The cat was coming too, coming hard, coming as if it wanted to pump itself inside out.
Gush! Gush! Gush! Gob after gob after gob of sperm splattered against the back of my
mouth. It was trickling down my throat, it was under my tongue, it was everywhere,
and still the animal was coming, and coming, and coming! I'd have never believed in a
million years that those two feline testicles, which were the size of large grapes, could
possibly hold so much spunk.
As soon as he stopped firing I eased my mouth off his dick, which was already starting
to soften up. He was purring loudly with contentment now, and I could tell that as far
as he was concerned, the action was over. I frankly could have done with a bit more sex
– maybe one of my problems is that I'm insatiable, Doctor – but I knew that there was
no point trying to force the animal to be interested in more fucking when all his
instincts told him that he had done his job and should be satisfied.
I swallowed his sperm and put him back in his cage. Then I went upstairs and got in
bed. Again, I felt a strange kind of malicious satisfaction at seeing my husband, my
neglectful husband who never paid any attention at all to my twat, lying there without
an idea in the world as to what it was that his little wife was up to!
So far, I had had a lot of fun with Ying, but I figured that with a little thought I could
probably come up with all sorts of other nice things that the cat and I could do
together. It was nice having him lick me to a come, and I had certainly enjoyed sucking
on his prick, too. But it seemed sort of a pity that we couldn't manage some direct
prick-twat action. Without it our relations seemed kind of incomplete if you know what
I mean.
The problem, of course, was one of size. His cock was about as thick as a fountain-pen,
as I told you, Doctor, but it certainly wasn't any where near as long. I knew from fucks
I'd had with men that a good deal of the pleasure comes from having the labia pulled
against your clit as the guy forced his rod back and forth inside you. But even if I could
somehow get Ying interested in sticking his cock into me – and I wasn't at all sure that
that would be possible – I felt that his penis would just feel lost inside of me.
So, I continued with the hand-jobs, and tongue jobs for several days, until suddenly the
idea hit me. It was so simple that I just couldn't see why it hadn't occurred to me
before.
"Here, kitty, I've got something nice and new for you," I said, lifting the big tomcat out
of the cage. He was already purring, and though I read somewhere that animals don't
have facial expressions, I could swear that he had a self-satisfied smirk on his face. He
couldn't understand my words, of course, but he knew perfectly well what it meant
each night when I came down into the pet shop and lifted him out of his cage. His
prick was already part way out of its sheath in anticipation.
I stroked his cock with my fingers – for a few times, then, when the thing was good
and hard, I placed him between my legs, so that his stiff cock was actually lying on top
of my labia.
He didn't get the idea right away, so I wiggled my hips to cause some friction between
my cunt skin and his prick skin. He clearly liked that, because he instantly started
bucking his haunches back and forth so as to rub his prick against me. All this may
have seemed a little bit strange to him, but the pleasure his cock was getting was
obviously enough to convince him that he was onto a good thing. I guess that soft, wet
cunt skin feels nice whether you're getting it outside the vagina or inside.
As he bucked his hips back and forth – and he was doing so very, very fast, much
faster than a man would work his prick inside you – I had both of my hands on my tits
and was feeling them up.
Faster and faster the cat went, and I found myself wiggling my hips, even though I tried
to keep them still so as to not distract him or make things difficult for him. He was
breathing in those short, sharp little gasps he gave out with whenever he was sexually
excited, and my own breath was coming kind of fast too. I felt a warm glow spread
throughout my whole cunt, then my pelvic region, and finally throughout my whole
body as that hard feline dick slid back and forth, back and forth on my tingling labia.
Suddenly, a shock slammed through my body, followed by another one, and another,
and another, as I came really hard! My hips quivered and trembled, and I guess that
that was enough to get my furry little partner off, because a series of sharp little
vibrations ran through his stiff dick, and I could feel the little blobs of cat semen land
just above my pubic triangle.
"Mmmmmm," I sighed after the come had left me. "You're quite a fucker, Ying, quite a
fucker!" I knew that he had had his satisfaction for the night, and after I had gotten my
breath back a bit after the frantic come I had had, I lifted him back into his cage and
latched the door.
It had been a nice little sex-session, and I felt rather proud of the way in which I had
overcome the problem posed by the difference in size between his prick and my cunt.
But the truth of the matter was that I didn't feel completely satisfied physically. I had
had a good, hard come, my twat had gotten plenty of stimulation, but something had
been lacking, and the sort of quasi-fuck I had had with the cat told me just what that
something was: the feeling of having my cunt filled up by some hard, big prick. The
tongue-jobs that I got from Ying were really neat, and so was everything else the two of
us did together, but for a woman, or for me at least, having a hunk of big, hard beef in
the slot is were it's really at. I wanted a real fuck.
The trouble was that I didn't know where I was going to get it from. Taking a human
lover still didn't seem right to me, despite all the vexation I felt at having such a sexual
zero for a husband. And although Ying had plenty of energy, there certainly wasn't
anything that I could do about the size of his prick.
Then a "woof' from a nearby cage changed everything. I turned and noticed Armagnac,
the big St. Bernard we had for sale. He was a friendly fellow, and I think he felt kind of
lonely cooped up in his cage all day and all night, though of course it was a big cage. I
opened the door and started to tickle his ears. That was when the idea hit me.
A St. Bernard's prick had to be almost as big as a guy's! I could have kicked myself for
not realizing that sooner. I'd never actually seen a St. Bernard's sexual equipment, but
there wasn't any way in the world that such a huge dog could possibly have a small
penis! This was the answer to my problem.
I led him out of his cage and patted his head and stroked his fur. Then, when I had
made sure that he was in a really friendly mood, I started stroking his belly, moving my
hand closer and closer to his prick sheath all the time. St. Bernard's have the well
justified reputation of being friendly brutes, bout of course I had no way of being
absolutely sure of how Armagnac would react to the novel experience of having his
dork felt up by a woman, and with a dog that size, one can't help feeling a bit nervous
when one isn't absolutely sure what it's reactions will be.
That didn't stop me, though. By now, my clit was about as hard as I could remember it
having ever been, and I could feel the pussy-juice oozing out of my cunt and down the
inside of my legs. I just had to have a hard prick inside me, and Armagnac's was the
only one I could use for the purpose. Certainly my husband's wasn't any good, and the
big St. Bernard was the only large dog we happened to have in the shop at the time.
Finally, I gingerly tickled the end of his prick sheath with my fingers. I felt a slight
pressure against them as his cock began to stiffen up and slide on out. Armagnac didn't
give any indication at all that he minded any of this, so I pressed my fingers against his
cock-cover all the harder. I was rewarded by feeling the prick stiffen up some more, and
by now, about half an inch of the red dork was sticking out into the air. That made my
task all the easier, of course, because all that I had to do was lightly play with the
sensitive exposed end to bring the thing all the way into the open. A couple of squeezes
were all that was necessary to get it to a state of iron stiffness. The big dog was panting
now, with his red tongue hanging way, way out of his mouth. His tail was sticking
straight up into the air and was wagging vigorously, so I figured that he was happy with
what I was doing with him.
That cock looked really yummy, and I knew that it might be best to sort of break him
into the idea of having sex with me by first giving him a blowjob, then moving on to a
real fuck the next night. But I had gone without prick up my cunt for a month now,
and that meant that I couldn't stand to wait.
I got onto my hands and knees and backed up so that my cunt was near his face. He
didn't get the idea though, and started to lick my twat with big, soggy licks.
That felt really good, and I noted with interest how different a dog's soft, wide tongue is
from a cat's raspy little piece of sandpaper. A cat's licks away so fast that he finally gets
just about every part of your cunt with his tongue. A dog's tongue, at least the tongue
of a big dog like a St. Bernard, really kind of blankets the whole twat, and because it's
so pliant, it gets into just about every nook and cranny anyway. But although I made a
mental note that I wanted to be given a complete demonstration in the future of just
what it was like to have my cunt licked by Armagnac, what I had on my mind was
fucking. I had to somehow get that cock of his inside my twat.
I turned and wagged my finger in his face.
"No!" I said. "No!" Then I stroked his prick a couple of times, and said "yes! yes!" Like
most dogs, I think he had some idea of the meanings of "no" and "yes", but when I
turned around and presented him with my cunt, he started licking it again.
"No!" I said again, and tapped him lightly on the muzzle with my fingers. Not hard
enough to hurt in any way, just enough to make him understand that he wasn't doing
what I wanted him to do. Again I said "yes!" when I touched his cock, and turned
around to present him with my wet, eager vagina once more.
This time the penny dropped. He guessed what it was that I wanted. And since I wasn't
all that much bigger than a St. Bernard Bitch, and was in the canine fuck-position, I
guess the association wasn't too difficult for him to make. After a second of hesitation,
he put his enormous forepaws on my back and then shuffled up to position himself for
entry.
St. Bernard's are kind of heavy dogs. When a guy fucks you from the rear, he's bearing
all of his weight on his knees. But I was supporting half the weight of my horny
quadruped, and that took some doing. I didn't mind, though. He poked his prick
against my labia, and though he didn't get the thing into me on the first try, just
knowing that there was a nice, hard dork trying to get inside me was enough to get me
really excited.
Another shove, and this time he was in me! I gave a gasp of delight as I felt my cunt
walls pushed apart for the first time in four weeks by an erect prick.
One thing about fucking with a dog, and that is that it's different. Guys often like to
wait a second after thrusting into you, so that you can both enjoy anticipating the
action that's to come. But not Armagnac. He just started bucking away like mad,
heaving his haunches back and forth with a funny, jerky motion that was kind of weird
but also a hundred per cent delightful. I really dug the rapidity with which he laid his
strokes into me. After being penned up in that cage for a couple weeks, he was
obviously ready for a good lay.
Because of the weight on my back, I figured that there wasn't any way in which I could
support myself on one hand while using the other to play with my tits. That was a pity,
because the way they were hanging heavily away from my body and down towards the
floor made them feel really sexy.
I tried shaking my shoulders from side to side so as to make the tits swing sort of like a
pendulum. That was better than nothing, but it still wasn't good enough. My nipples
were all swollen with excitement and just about demanding attention.
My imagination doesn't usually desert me when it comes to fucking, however, and this
time was no exception. I hit on the idea of lowering my shoulders towards the floor so
that my nipples actually rubbed against it. That wasn't as good a job as my fingers
could have done on them, but it wasn't bad.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I couldn't believe how fast and how hard that big dog was
lying his prick into me! My cunt clutched convulsively at his hard rod as it slid faster
and faster on my cunt juice. At least at the time it felt like it was going faster and faster,
but now that I think back on it, I guess maybe I was just getting more and more
excited. It didn't matter. All that mattered was the wonderful feeling of having my
female inner solace stuffed full of hard prick once again.
"Fuck me!" I gasped. "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" I was too far gone to worry about
the fact that the animal couldn't possibly understand what I was saying. My forehead
was beaded with sweat, and I was tossing my head from side to side in an effort to
somehow discharge the incredible tension that was building up in me. I rubbed my
nipples faster and faster against the floor, as all the while that dog-prick bucked away in
me.
IN! OUT! IN! OUT!
I was almost there... almost... almost...
"Make me come!" I gasped. "Make... me... COME!"
The last word coincided beautifully with the first come-shock that slammed through me
as the dog's penis finally got me over the top.
"Coming! I'm coming! I'm coming!" I sobbed as I felt my pelvis tremble and shake to
the force of the orgasm that was blasting through me. My cunt clutched spasmodically
at his dork, and the dork responded by shooting a mighty stream of warm dog-sperm
up into me, gushing away like it was never going to stop...
"Whewwwwwww!" I sighed as the dog pulled his spent prick out of my twat, bringing a
lot of pent-up sperm and cunt-juice dribbling out after it. I got shakily to my feet. I
don't think I have ever felt more totally fucked out than I did then. I staggered off to
bed and fell asleep.
The next morning, when I went into the shop, I found that Armagnac had been
roaming around in there all night. I had been so exhausted and spaced out the night
before that I had wandered back upstairs without thinking to shut him up in his cage
again. I was glad that I was the one who entered the shop first, since I was able to get
the animal back in its cage before my husband entered the room. If he had been the
one to find Armagnac wandering around loose with the cage unlocked he would have
wondered what had happened, and though I'm sure that I could have come up with a
plausible excuse, that would have meant telling him a direct lie, and somehow the idea
of doing that really didn't appeal to me at all.
It's funny how a little thing can set of a whole train of thought. I was relieved that I had
not had to lie to my husband about the dog, but then I realized quite quickly that in
fact I was deceiving him anyway, and that it was silly for me to pretend that lying to
him would have made the deceit any worse. It was bad enough anyway. And thinking
about that led me to think about how really weird it was for me to have allowed a dog
to fuck with me anyway.
"Will would never have guessed why the cage was unlocked, since it would never have
occurred to him that I would fuck with the animal," I told myself. And that was exactly
what was bothering me. The fact that what I was doing was so strange that he really
wouldn't have ever guessed what it was that I was up to.
The more I thought about it, the more depressed I got. The business with the cat had
been sort of a prank, I thought. But actually having a big canine penis up your cunt was
no prank. It was definitely something kinky. In fact, the train of thought led me so far
that I decided that I simply wasn't going to have any more sex with Armagnac, or with
Ying the cat, either.
I've never been much for keeping resolutions, though, and this one wasn't any
exception. As soon as I got into bed that evening, I found myself really infuriated by
the way my husband gave me a peck on the cheek, said "Night, honey," and rolled over
to go to sleep. Just the sight of his back turned to me annoyed me. Somehow the more
annoyed I became, the hornier I became, too. I wasn't in bed for half an hour before I
decided to go down and visit the animals again. That business of having my cunt licked
by Armagnac had been too nice to leave without an encore, and I couldn't help
wondering what it would feel like to have that prick of his in my mouth, too.
I went on downstairs and opened his cage. He gave a happy yelp when he saw me,
though I wouldn't have known if that was because he was expecting another fuck
session or another night outside his cage unless I had seen the way his prick had
already come sliding part of the way out of his sheath.
"Mmm, there's a good boy," I said, tickling him behind the ears. The memory of what
that cock had been like inside my cunt made my clit give a little twinge of excitement,
but I knew that what I wanted at the moment was something different.
I got onto my back and spread my legs. At first, he seemed a bit confused, I guess
because he remembered how I had not wanted him to lick my twat the night before,
while my present position certainly wasn't suitable for fucking from a canine point of
view. I took his collar in my hand and pulled his head down towards my cunt. That
gave him the idea though, and it wasn't long before I felt that tongue of his go sloshing
back and forth across my cunt.
Slurp! Slurp! Slurp! Things were really pretty wet down there. There was plenty of
saliva on his tongue, and my steamy twat was secreting lots of cunt-juice. I guess the
taste of the stuff was just driving the big dog crazy, because he was licking faster and
faster every second. Like I said earlier, his tongue was so big and soft that it seemed like
it was forced into every little nook and cranny of my cunt with each lap he gave.
"Mmm, lick me, lick me hard!" I moaned as the tongue continued to slither back and
forth across my pussy. I cupped my tits in my hands and pressed them against my
chest. With my thumbs, I nudged the nipples into a state of frantic hardness. That all
felt wonderful, but not half as good as the incredible feelings that that dog was causing
between my legs! I wriggled and writhed and ground my ass against the floor as he
licked, and licked, and licked.
By craning my neck slightly I was able to get a glance at his cock. It was all the way out
of its sheath and clearly as hard as hell. For the moment the big dog was perfectly
satisfied to just lick and smell my cunt, but I knew that soon he would be wanting some
action on that dick of his. Well, that was action that I would be more than willing to
give.
All the while that Armagnac was licking my cunt I heard him snuffle and snort through
his nose. You know how sensitive a dog's nose is, Doctor, and I guess that all that
female smell of mine was just driving him wild.
SLURP! His tongue slid right over my supersensitive clit, and that was all that was
required to get me off.
"Uh! Uh! UHHHHH!" I gasped as I felt the pent-up fuck-energy inside me blast loose
all at once! My pelvis bucked and heaved, but that didn't keep the dog from continuing
to lick away at my twat! My cuntlips felt so incredibly sensitive that they could hardly
bear the pressure of his tongue, but that didn't matter. They wanted it anyway.
I lay on the floor gasping for breath while he continued to tease my cunt with his
tongue. I sometimes get feelings of post-come let down, that funny kind of depression
that follows a good fuck sometimes, and now was no exception. As I lay there, I
realized how absurd it was for me to be panting away on a pet shop floor while a big
dog licked my cunt. But I also knew that I had an obligation towards the dog. His cock
looked so stiff that I could almost imagine it aching, and I knew that having been given
a nice tongue-job by the big St. Bernard, it was my duty to relieve his dick.
I got to my hands and knees and crawled around so that my head was near his hind
legs. As I gazed more closely at the penis, my depression started to fall away from me,
and I began to get turned on again. I'm nothing if not multi-orgasmic, which is kind of
a joke when you consider the husband I'm married to. And having a big hunk of male
meat there a couple of inches in front of my face was enough to get my interest up
again.
I moved my head under his belly and kind of enjoyed the dog smell and the way he was
so furry down there.
"This may be kind of kinky, but it's fun too," I told myself. Of course, the prick wasn't
furry, though. It was bald, red, and looked very, very hard. I touched it and the animal
trembled slightly. No question about it, he was very ready for a come! I kissed the end
of his penis, then slipped my mouth over the thing and began to suck on it.
It really was about the same size as a man's penis, though maybe somewhat differently
proportioned. Longer and thinner. I guess maybe bitches have long, narrow cunts.
Anyway, it was quite a mouthful, and that was what was important. As a woman, I like
to be filled up sexually. Stimulation of the tits and labia and things like that is all very
well, but I still like to have my cunt filled with cock, or my mouth filled with it.
Somehow, having my soft flesh pressing against something hard and male makes me
feel more womanly.
I wanted to take this kind of slowly, so as to build the dog up to a really wild climax as
a reward for the nice tongue-job that he had given me. By this time, incidentally, the
mere fact of having a prick inside my mouth was enough to banish any feelings of guilt
for the time being. One thing about me is that I like sex so much that when I'm
engaged in it, I can't think about much else.
I took my lips off of the dog's penis for a moment and kissed it up and down its length,
paying special attention to the very tip of it. I kissed the balls, too, then gave the whole
penis a few licks with my tongue, running the tongue-tip the whole length of the penis.
After that, I decided to get back down to the serious business of making my partner
come, and I slipped my mouth over it and began to suck once more.
At first I sucked on the tip of it, then I moved my lips down so that I could suck at the
prick root. That was nice, but it meant that the tip was really kind of crammed against
the back of my mouth. After a while, I went back to sucking on the tip again. I knew
that with men that was the most sensitive part of the penis, and I figured that with dogs
it might be the same.
All the while he stood there very still and quiet. The only sound he gave out was that of
his heavy breathing.
Like I told you, I love to have prick in my mouth, and even though the dog's tongue
had given me one very nice orgasm only minutes before, I was all ready for another
one. I aimed on giving it to myself, too, with the aid of my busy little fingers. I was
pressing them against my labia, sliding them into the entrance to my vagina, and
bringing them closer and closer to my clit, only to teasingly whisk them away again just
when my aching little fun button thought that it was going to get some of the relief that
it had been begging for.
The other hand was busy on my hanging tits. It swung them from side to side, pressed
them against my chest and let them flop back down again, and did all sorts of other
nice things to them. It goes without saying that my nipples got plenty of attention,
though of course they were also subjected to the same sort of teasing action that my clit
got. The result of all this was that soon they were so swollen they felt like they were
going to burst.
Suddenly, I felt the dog's prick tremble between my lips, and then splat! The first gob
of sperm shot against the roof of my mouth, followed by another, and another, and
another! I pressed my fingers against my clit, and sure enough, a split-second later I
was coming every bit as fast and furiously as the dog was.
I'd been impressed with how much spunk the cat had had in its balls, but of course,
Armagnac was a whole new ballgame. The huge dog just pumped, and pumped, and
pumped, until there was a real pool of sperm in my mouth. I waited for a moment with
the cock inside my mouth, then pulled my lips off of it carefully and drank the stuff
down.
The trouble was that the feeling of depression started to close in on me again almost at
once, and this time there was no shaking it. I put the dog back in his cage and then
went to bed, where I did an awful lot of tossing and turning. What I had been doing
somehow seemed terribly perverse and wrong, and I couldn't help feeling that I was
now partly to blame for the fact that my marriage was working out so badly. I wanted
to have a good marriage, and while Will's impotence and lack of interest in sex
certainly didn't help, I wasn't sure that that was any excuse for me to go around having
sex with animals.
Mind you, I have plenty of sex with them anyway. I've given up trying to resist
temptation now, since I know that I just can't. But even though I got a lot of physical
satisfaction, the feeling of depression that accompanies each fuck is getting worse and
worse. That's why I thought I'd come to you to see if there wasn't some way I could
help Will and get our marriage back on the tracks again.
Man is, of course, a social animal, and mental health is largely a matter of how well the
individual relates to others. Difficulties in relating to those we feel we should be close to
can often lead to depression and guilt, and finally to a general disorientation of the
personality.
Helen K. clearly was unable to relate to her husband in an effective manner, though of
course he was also unable to relate to her. The fact that such a serious problem as his
sudden impotence was never really discussed by them in a meaningful way is an
indication of how unsatisfactory their marriage had probably always been. Certainly, his
attitude on the subject was far from helpful, but his wife showed a definite propensity to
let the situation continue while releasing her frustration in the form of ever greater
hostility towards him, hostility which, in combination with her biological need for
sexual activity, led her to bestiality.
More was involved than just a problem of his being unable to keep an erection. That he
sought to disguise his anxiety about his impotence beneath a cloak of general
indifference to sex is not entirely surprising, but only a man whose sex drive is rather
low in the first place can just kiss his wife on the cheek and go to sleep next to her as if
she were his sister. A man with a stronger sexual drive would finally have to show signs
of frustration and anguish.
The fact that he adopted this attitude was interpreted by Mrs. K. as a form of rejection.
The truth of the matter was really that he was an undersexed man who would have
preferred not to be impotent, but saw marriage nevertheless in largely non-sexual terms
anyway: to him a wife was a helper and friend.
People who feel rejected often turn to vengeance, and of course there was a large
element of vengeance in Mrs. K.'s involvement with the animals. By debasing herself
she debased him too, while saying in addition, "even these dumb animals are more
masculine than you are." This is not to discount the importance of simple physical
deprivation as a motive for her bestial involvement, merely to emphasize that it should
not be seen as the sole cause.
Despite all the resentment and hostility she felt towards her husband, Mrs. K. also felt a
sort of ritualistic obligation to make the marriage work.
Many marriages continue because neither partner wishes to admit to having made a
mistake, and women also are still made to feel a traditional obligation to "keep the
home together".
This may in part explain why she chose animal rather than human lovers. A human
lover is a potential second husband, while of course a St. Bernard is not, by any stretch
of the imagination.
The desire to make the marriage work was certainly a factor in causing her to feel guilty
and depressed. That these feelings took a while to work their way to the surface should
not surprise anyone. The inner satisfaction that she felt on initially getting even with
her husband, not to mention to relief from mere physical frustration, caused her
naturally enough to suppress any feelings that threatened this new sense of satisfaction.
It is interesting that the factor which finally brought the guilt to the surface was the act
of intercourse with the dog. Many high school girls who have performed fellatio and
had cunnilingus performed on them rather incongruously regard themselves as virgins
for the sole reason that although they have permitted everything else, they have not
allowed intromission. The attitude, irrational though it is, is one which our culture
rather strongly engrains in its females, and it is thus not surprising that Mrs. K. could
look on the activities with the cat as a form of harmless semi-masturbation, while the
actual intercourse with the dog brought the long-repressed guilt out into the open. Of
course, once the association of guilt and bestiality was made, it was possible for all the
other sexual acts that she engaged in with the animals to cause feelings of guilt. The
dam had broken, so to speak.
Subsequent sessions revealed how little was left of the marriage she ostensibly wished to
preserve. Clearly the husband was a very sexually repressed individual, and
consequently one who preferred to ignore sex rather than face up to his problem. But
this repression was a manifestation of a rather conservative outlook on life in general
which his wife unconsciously despised. This was the cause of much of the hostility.
Mrs. K. was an intelligent woman, and when she saw this, she drew the obvious
conclusion: that both she and her husband would be better off with more compatible
partners. She divorced her husband, and continued in therapy both to rid herself of her
guilt feelings about her involvement with animals, and to improve her ability to
communicate her feelings. She met a man whose outlook on life and sex corresponded
to hers, and began a very close relationship with him. Freed now of her hostility
towards Will and her sexual frustration, she no longer had any psychological need for
bestiality, and consequently her desire for animal sex dropped out of the picture.


Case History 3

Sally L. was a thirty-five-year-old redhead with a friendly, pretty face and an engaging
smile. She did not seem in the least bit nervous as she sat opposite me.
"Doctor," she said, "I hope I'm not wasting your time, which I suppose should really be
reserved for desperate, unhappy people. But there's an aspect of my behavior that well,
puzzles me, and I thought that maybe you could tell me whether or not I should feel
worried about it."
It's not uncommon for new patients to preface the first session with the hope that
they're not wasting my time. Usually, this is a sort of subconscious ploy. They are not
sure they want to go through with the interview, and they subconsciously would like to
be told that they are wasting my time and that they should get out, though
paradoxically they would feel terribly rejected if I actually did say such a thing to them.
But with Sally L. I got the impression that there was no such maneuvering involved.
She really didn't feel desperate and unhappy, and really wasn't sure whether or not
there was any point in her taking up my time.
"You don't think you can feel worried about something unless someone tells you, you
should?" I asked gently.
"Oh, of course, but you know how it is. There are certain things we're told are very
wrong, and when we do them and find we aren't bothered by the fact, it's hard not to
feel that we should be bothered by it."
"What is it that you've been doing that others might regard as 'wrong'?" I asked.
"I fuck with animals," she said. I did not, of course, show any surprise, and she didn't
give the impression that she was expecting me to do so. She was obviously a very
straightforward and aboveboard person, and since she didn't find anything shocking
about her behavior, she didn't think that a trained professional would either.
"Well," I said, "that's common enough."
"You're kidding?"
"No, no. A lot of women fuck with animals. For all sorts of reasons. I'm curious as to
what yours are. I'm doing a book on the subject."
"You mean what I tell you might end up in a book?"
"Oh, with your name changed, as well as other details, so that no-one could recognize
who you were."
"Imagine, me in a book!" she said. I could tell that she was clearly flattered by the idea.
I had been correct in guessing that she was the sort of person who would not in the
least be bothered by the idea of winding up in a collection of case studies. That was
why I had not hesitated to mention the fact to her.
"Anyway," I said, "just what kinds of animals do you fuck with?"
"Dogs and horses. I prefer horses in some ways."
"And this doesn't bother you?"
"Not really," she said. "That is, I don't wake up in the middle of the night feeling all
guilty, if that's what you mean. But every now and then my life seems a little... strange,
and I finally decided that maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to talk things over with
a professional who could let me know if I had any dreadful tensions forced below the
surface, or anything like that." She gave a little laugh. It was obvious that she didn't
take psychiatry all that seriously, which in many ways strikes me as a healthier attitude
than the combined reverence and fear that a lot of patients bring to therapy.
"Well," I said, "why don't you tell me all about it, and then I can let you know what I
think."
"Okay," she said, and began her story.
I suppose I'm well on my way to becoming an old maid, since I'm thirty five and
unmarried, but let me assure you doctor that it's purely a matter of choice. I have
actually been proposed to several times, and turned the guys down. I guess the trouble
is that I like my independence too much. Oh, I know that everyone talks about
woman's new role in marriage, and all that sort of thing, but even so it seems to me
that for a woman, marriage still means giving up a lot of her freedom.
That doesn't mean that I don't like men. I do, and I particularly like to have a good
fuck from a good, strong man. Just as long as he doesn't want to possess me and make
me his property, but is willing to look on the fuck as good, mutual fun, I'm more than
willing to pull down my panties and spread my legs. Nice, uncomplicated sex, that's
what I like. Believe it or not, the one-night stand does not have to be degrading, if both
partners accept it for what it is, and don't try and tart it up with a lot of phony bullshit.
As a matter-of-fact, I have a very strong sex drive, and go around feeling horny much of
the time. In fact, I don't meet enough men who interest me to satisfy my hungry little
cunt. Part of that is because I don't work in an office, or anything like that. I own my
own riding school and livery stable, which I bought with money that my folks left me.
I've always been kind of an outdoorsy girl, as you can maybe tell by looking at me. And
I guess I've got a good setup, I'm my own boss, out in the fresh air a lot of the time,
with lots of horses. I've always been fond of horses, ever since I was a little girl. And I
mean fond of them in a non-sexual way. I only started fucking with them about a
month ago. But I still liked to be with them before that, though I suppose you'll say
that I was just repressing my desire for those massive pricks of theirs. Maybe so, I
wouldn't know.
Well, one day about a month ago, I was out in the paddock when I noticed that one of
the horses had an erection. They sometimes get them for not much of any reason at all,
just as I've been told that guys sometimes do.
Now, I don't know if you've ever seen a stallion's erect prick, Doctor, but let me tell
you, it's something huge. About sixteen inches long and a couple of inches thick. And
since the skin is a bright red, it's really noticeable.
I was in the paddock with one of my pupils, a girl of thirteen, and she started to giggle
when she saw the horse's hard-on. I couldn't help smiling. "I wonder how many pricks
she's seen," I said to myself, knowing perfectly well that given what a shy girl she was,
the answer was most probably none. But then I realized that it was perfectly natural for
her to be interested in the horse's cock. After all, it was a cock, and really only different
from other cocks by virtue of its size and color.
For some reason, I just couldn't get the thought of that stallion's penis out of my mind.
I thought about it while eating supper that evening, while watching T.V., and when I
went to bed.
I didn't happen to have a man available at the time, and when that's the case, I beat off,
since I have to have at least one orgasm a day in order to survive. As I teased my wet
labia into a frenzy with my fingertips, I found the thought of that big, red prick
popping into my mind again and again.
Finally, I decided to concentrate on it instead of regarding it as a distraction (since I
had been trying to fantasize that I was fucking with a particular guy I had met only a
few days before). Soon my hips were wriggling with pleasure while my fingers did their
work and I kept thinking of what it would be like to have that giant penis up my hot
and eager cunt.
It was a good, energetic come that I had, and after I finished I drifted off to sleep and
dreamed of being fucked by a great black stallion.
I didn't have any idea at the time that I might want to actually do something by way of
realizing these fantasies of mine. After all, it seemed that a horse's prick would be far
too massive for me to be able to get it up my cunt anyway.
There were no pupils for that afternoon, so I decided to go for a ride. Without even
thinking about it I saddled up Roland, the big bay I had seen with an erection the day
before. We had a good gallop together, and then I walked him over to a deserted copse
of trees where I planned on having a little afternoon snack.
As I chewed on my sandwiches, however, I found myself thinking more and more
about the horse's prick, and how nice it would be to have it in my mouth. Finally,
overcome with curiosity, I got up and walked over to the animal. His prick was up
inside its sheath, but from the way in which he was snorting and pawing the ground I
could guess that he felt dense, and I imagined that this tension was a matter of sexual
frustration. I'd have to let him mate with one of the mares. It would be nice to have a
new foal anyway.
Curious about how it felt, I reached out and touched his prick sheath. I didn't touch it
very hard or anything, but the animal gave a loud whinny anyway, and the big red cock
slid a little way out of the sheath into the open. As I saw it do this, I noticed that my
panties were quite damp feeling, and that my clit was sort of tingling.
Acting sort of on instinct, I touched his cocksheath again, this time much more
vigorously. Another whinny, and the penis came sliding another three of four inches
out. The sight of that stiff red thing really turned me on, and I took it between my
fingers and squeezed it. Instantly, it slid the rest of the way out into the open, so that I
had the whole sixteen inches of it in front of me. It was so hard that when I squeezed it
now, it was just like squeezing a bar of metal or a broom handle. There was no give to
it whatever.
I rubbed my thighs together to try and satisfy my hungry cunt. I was really horny now,
and I knew what it was that was making me that way, however strange the idea might
sound, namely the horse's penis.
I stroked it a couple of times, thinking that it might be kind of interesting to feel it to a
come and watch the jism come shooting out of it. But my mouth knew what it wanted,
and soon I ducked my head under the horse's belly, and thanking my lucky stars that
horses, unlike mules, aren't able to kick forward, I slipped my lips around the head of
the mighty red dork.
Man! I just about came right then and there just from having a prick that big between
my lips. I've sucked plenty of men's cocks in my time, and some of them have been
pretty large, but the biggest one of them was a real Tom Thumb compared to Roland's
whanger. My jaws were really wide open to accommodate the thing, and my sensitive
lips were really sort of stretched.
My twat felt like it was just about to melt, and I quickly undid my riding breeches and
let them fall down around the tops of my boots. I worked my panties down then to give
my hand a clear go at my pussy, which wasn't going to give me a moment's peace until
I paid it some attention.
The one trouble with sucking a horse's prick is that it's so gigantic that there's no way
you can take all of it in your mouth like you can do with some guys' penises. That
didn't matter, though. The width of the damn thing more than compensated.
I ran my fingertips back and forth over my labia, and even gave my clit a quick flick. I
was already so worked up from having a horse's penis inside my mouth, however, that
that nearly made me come right then and there, so I figured that in future I had better
be more careful. I moved my fingers away from my clit and slid them up my steamy
cunt-hole, where I pressed them against the soft, wet inner walls.
When I suck a guy's prick, I usually try and give some attention to the prick root, since
I know from experience that a fair number of men are pretty sensitive down there. Of
course, since I couldn't possibly hope to slip all of Roland's cock inside my mouth, I
had to change the technique a bit this time. What I did was to take my mouth off of his
cock temporarily and then suck on the root of his penis sideways, if you know what I
mean. The long, low whinnies that he gave, and the way he pawed the ground,
indicated to me pretty clearly that he really liked this action.
A horse has balls to match his cock in size, and I didn't lose any time starting in on
Roland's. Right from the moment that I started to suck on his cock, I was using the
fingers of my left hand to fondle the giant testicles.
I kissed my way up along the horse's cock, then slipped my mouth over the end of it
again, using my tongue to sort of push and pull at the piss-hole. All the while, I was
breathing in deeply through my nose to get as much of his horse-smell as I possibly
could. Somehow, that really turned me on. Something about the idea that I was really
blowing a horse, not a man, but a horse, had my clit throbbing for a come.
I knew that I would be coming soon, too. I tried to prolong things a bit down there
between my legs by taking my fingers away from my cunt from time to time, but that
didn't do much good. It was not just my fingers down there on my twat that was
getting me all wound up, but also the feeling of the mighty penis there between my lips,
and the mere knowledge of what a frankly kinky activity I was engaged in.
The horse was very tense now, all his legs stiff and straight as ramrods. When I ran my
left hand along one of his hind legs I noticed how tense it was. Roland was breathing in
a series of deep, heavy snorts now, and I realized that he was just about to come.
Suddenly, I felt his cock give a final stiffening between my lips, and then it started to
fire. I flicked my clit with my thumb, and that got me off instantly, so that the two of
us were coming together, in what had to be one of the weirdest fuck-combinations ever.
Gush! Gush! Gush! Gush! Man, oh man, Doctor, you just can't believe what it's like to
have a horse pump the contents of his huge balls into your mouth. Some guys have a
pretty good load of stuff in their testicles, but what I was getting now was something
else again. My mouth was literally so full of sperm that the cream was forcing its way
between my distended lips and his thick cock, and still he was firing!
As for me, I was really going wild, really writhing and wriggling like a fish on the end
of the end of a line as my cunt contracted in spasm after spasm, and as my hips bucked
and heaved to the force of my pulsing female fuck-frenzy!
Finally the horse stopped pumping sperm into my mouth, and I eased my lips off of the
end of his cock. Normally, when I do that with a man's penis, I manage to avoid
spilling any of the sperm. But that was absolutely out of the question this time. Plenty
of the stuff oozed out past my lips as I got them clear of the cock. That didn't matter.
Even though a lot of his load was now trickling down my chin and dripping onto my
blouse, I still had a whole mouthful of it. I swallowed it in two gulps, and even that was
hardly enough to get it all down.
"Outasight!" I said to myself as I pulled my panties and riding breeches up. I'd given
blow-jobs before, but I couldn't remember ever giving one that was a tenth as good as
that one as far as the size and stiffness of the prick, and the amount of sperm I got in
my mouth.
"Too bad the prick's too big to get up my cunt," I thought wistfully. Even though it was
shrinking back into its sheath now, it looked really huge, and I certainly didn't want to
injure myself.
The whole incident so excited me that I really felt like I would like to have another
come with the horse. He had already shot his wad, though, and I wasn't quite sure what
to do until I got on him. I'd always noticed how pleasant it was to feel a horse's back
moving back and forth under your cunt. But until today, I had never thought what kind
of exciting potential that motion had. Well, I knew now, and so I dismounted and
removed Roland's saddle. Then I stripped off my riding breeches and panties, so that
there was no longer anything at all between my cunt and Roland's back. My pussy was
very moist, of course, and I could feel his hair get matted and damp underneath my
crotch.
One reason my cunt was so turned on was the stimulation that it was getting despite
the fact that Roland wasn't even moving yet. Horses have a very, very pronounced
backbone, as you may know, and Roland's was perhaps even more pronounced than
most, so that the thing was pressing really hard against the buttery flesh of my cunt.
I gave him a nudge with my knees, and he started to walk. Back and forth moved his
back, but this time, with the saddle and my clothes missing, the stimulation that that
was causing my cunt was multiplied about five or six times.
I unbuttoned my blouse and unhooked my bra. That way, as I moved back and forth
with my cunt on his backbone, assuring that my cunt was getting all the action it could
possibly want, I was also making sure that my tits didn't feel neglected. My breasts are
very sensitive to the touch, and the one thing that I really missed during that wonderful
blowjob that I gave Roland was pressure on my breasts. Well, with both my hands now
free, since I had just let the reins fall on Roland's neck, I was making up for lost time. I
pressed the tender globes against my chest and against each other. I pulled on the
nipples, pushed on them, pinched them, tweaked them, until they were finally swollen
up so far that I almost thought that they were going to burst.
My cunt was getting hotter and hotter, but I knew that to bring myself over the top I
would have to increase the stimulation a bit. I gave Roland a kick, and he immediately
broke into a trot. I was really getting it from that backbone of his now, and it wasn't
long before I felt the first wave of my come hit me.
"AHHHHHH!" I moaned as I felt my nerves unwind in pulse after pulse of delicious
come! The horse was still trotting along, and my hips were jiggling and quivering on
top of him from the force of my orgasm.
Finally I was finished, and taking the reins in my hands, I directed Roland back to the
spot where I had left my clothes and the saddle. I got dressed once more, re-saddled
him, and rode on home.
When I got back, I had a nice, relaxing bath and then sat in front of the fire drinking a
cup of hot tea. I was just wearing my bathrobe, and was sort of idly playing with myself
in the way that I often do when there isn't a man around or any clothing in the way of
my prying fingers. At that moment Noodle, my Irish setter, came into the room.
"Hello there, Noodle," I said, scratching him on the head. It turned out that he was
interested in more than getting his head scratched, however. Even though I had just
taken a bath, I guess there must have been some residual cunt-smell, and of course the
fact that I wasn't wearing anything but the loose, half-opened bathrobe meant that
whatever smell there was didn't have any trouble at all getting to his super-sensitive dog
nose. He pricked his ears up, then shoved his muzzle forward and started to lick my
cunt.
He's sort of a woman-oriented dog anyway, if you know what I mean. He's always
jumping up on women and trying to nuzzle them. You know how dogs are, and how
women usually ignore them and just automatically shove them out of the way without
giving the matter a second thought. Well, Noodle was like that, but this was the first
time that he had actually managed to get at my cunt, mainly cause I'm usually wearing
riding breeches, or some other kind of pants.
Slurp! That tongue of his on my tender twat really felt good, and even though I had
sort of automatically put my hand on his head to shove it away, it suddenly occurred to
me that there was no reason at all to do that. After all, his tongue felt good, and if I was
going to go around giving stallions blow-jobs, there was no point in my being prissy
about dogs.
So, I just lay back in the chair, flipped my bathrobe the rest of the way open, and
decided to enjoy what he had to offer.
What he had to offer was really fine, too. That tongue of his was as soft as silk, and it
seemed like there wasn't a single little female nook or cranny that it managed to miss.
Already I could feel the muscles in my back and thighs start to tighten, and I knew
perfectly well that it wouldn't be long till I came if he kept up this action he was giving
me, and he certainly showed no signs whatever of wanting to stop it.
I was still patting him on the head, but he seemed much too interested in my teat to
pay very much attention to that, so I decided to put my hands to better use. My tits
were fully exposed now, and I started out by trailing my fingers very lightly over the
surface of them, just barely touching my skin. I find that that's a turn-on technique that
works every bit as well with my tits as it does with my cunt.
I moved the fingertips in closer and closer to the nipples, and then started to give my
hard little nubs light, rapid flicks with my fingertips. I would stick my fingers in my
mouth, too, and press them against my nipples. For some reason or the other it really
excited my nipples to be wetted like that. Certainly they were already about as hard and
swollen as they had ever been.
Slurp! Slurp! Slurp! What I was doing to my tits was nice, but it couldn't compare for
excitement with the action that my cunt was getting from that soft, thin tongue of his.
My hips literally trembled every time he licked me.
"Mmmm, lick me harder boy! Lick me harder! So fine! So fucking FINE!"
I was coming and coming hard! That last lick of the dog's tongue was enough to get me
over the brink, and man, oh man, was I sliding down the other side of the roller
coaster! My hips trembled and shook, but that didn't bother Noodle, who just kept on
licking despite the fact that my cunt butted into his nose a couple of times!
"Uh! Uh! UHHHH!" I moaned as I felt my body discharge all of its static electricity in
a series of big lightning bolts. When I was done with my come, I sat in the chair
panting away like crazy and feeling really fucked out.
Noodle wasn't convinced that things were over, however, and kept right on licking at
my supersensitive twat. I took his collar in my hand and pulled him from my crotch,
but when I did so he gave a pathetic little whine that really made me feel kind of sorry
for him, and I felt even sorrier when I got a glimpse of his prick. The thing was fully
erect, and looked just about as hard as Roland's had when I was rubbing it with my
fingers. Clearly, it would be very unfair of me to just leave the poor beast unsatisfied. I
got out of the chair and onto my hands and knees on the floor so as to feel the dog off.
But no sooner did I have his cock between my fingers than I started to get all excited
again. One thing about me, and that is that no matter how many orgasms I have, I'm
always ready for the next one.
As I looked at Noodle's penis, I was struck by the contrast in size between it and
Roland's. After all, the setter's prick was smaller than a man's, and I've told you how
tiny a man's looks in comparison to a big, virile stallion's.
"At least it would fit up my cunt, though," I mused, and of course it was only a short
step from thinking that maybe having him stick it up my cunt would be a really
exciting thing to do. After all, though I had gotten plenty of action that afternoon from
the horse, I hadn't actually had a penis inside me for quite some time. Well, a couple of
days, at least, and for me that counts as quite some time as far as being penis-deprived
is concerned.
I guessed that the easiest way to get the dog to fuck me would be for me to pretend that
I was a female dog, so I got myself placed on the carpet in such a way that my cunt was
staring the animal in the face, so to speak.
It took him a moment to figure out what it was that I had in mind. The first thing that
he did was start to lick my pussy again, but before I had a chance to do anything to
show him that that wasn't what I wanted him to do right at that moment, he figured
things out himself. I guess having me on my hands and knees like that was enough to
eventually trigger his instinct, because I soon felt his paws on my ass as he started to
mount me.
"I'd better get those claws of his clipped if I'm going to make a regular habit out of
this," I thought. He moved his paws along my back, and then poked a couple of times
at my pussy with his cock.
"C'mon, dog," I said, "you can find it, can't you?" On the next thrust he did, though he
seemed so excited by his discovery that he pulled his cock straight out again, and then
had to give another couple of pokes before he could get back in again. Irish setters are
very beautiful, very loyal animals, but any trainer will tell you that they are not all that
bright.
Well, intelligence didn't matter much once he got his cock all the way in. Instinct was
able to take over, and that meant that he was shoving his rod back and forth like crazy
inside me. Man, did it ever feel good, too! His penis was sort of thin, so I didn't have
quite the feeling of being stuffed full of prick that I would have liked, but that didn't
matter. The speed with which he pistoned me, sliding his cock back and forth, back and
forth on my fast-flowing pussy juices, was more than enough to make up for that.
I was able to support myself on one hand, since the dog wasn't really all that heavy, and
that meant that I was able to use the other one to fondle my dangling tits. I pinched the
nipples and used them to swing the breasts from side to side, or to push them up
against my chest in order to let them flop down again.
In-out-in-out-in-out! There was something almost mechanical about the rapid back and
forth motion of his penis, but that didn't keep it from being really delightful. Every one
of those rapid strokes of his cock pulled my labia back and forth across my clit, and as a
result of that my clit felt so incredibly stiff and excited that I could hardly stand it. The
little thing was literally aching.
"Mmmm! Fuck me! Fuck me!" I sighed as the dog continued to buck away inside me.
He was panting like crazy, almost as fast as he was shoving his prick back and forth
inside me, and his cock was very, very stiff. I could guess that he wasn't all that far from
his come, and that was fine by me, since I figured that I was going to go clean out of
my mind if that pussy of mine didn't get some relief mighty soon!
Suddenly, I felt the dog's cock start to tremble and shudder inside me, and I felt
something warm hit the entrance to my womb. Noodle was coming, and coming like
mad, and the feeling of his cock blasting away like that inside me was all that I needed
to get off myself. My cunt clutched frantically at the setter's penis as if to make sure
that he didn't pull it out while the orgasm lasted!
Brrrrrrrrrrt! My body seemed to unwind all at once like a clock with a busting
mainspring, and as I did so, he continued to shoot his sperm into me in gush after
frantic gush!
It was a very nice come, and I felt very pleased with him and with myself as he pulled
out. I went into the kitchen and made myself another cup of tea, and sipped that
contentedly thinking of what a wonderful day it had been, and how much fun I had
had with the two animals.
It had been particularly nice to have a prick stuck in me again. In fact, so nice that I
couldn't help wondering if it might not be possible after all to actually fuck with a
horse. I didn't want to take too many risks, but on the other hand, I figured that the
rewards would be pretty substantial if I succeeded. Having that massive prick up my
cunt would be the fuck to end all fucks.
The next day, after my last pupil had gone home, I saddled up Roland and rode him
out to the copse of trees. I suppose that I could have done what I had in mind in the
stables, but somehow it seemed to me like it would be more fun if we could have a nice,
invigorating canter together first.
I had decided in the course of the night that I was going to try and actually fuck with
Roland. It wasn't exactly a decision that I had taken lightly, but it was one that I knew
was unavoidable. My curiosity as to what it would be like to actually have a horse's dick
up my cunt had come to occupy my mind more and more, and I knew that I was
eventually going to give into my curiosity. Since that was the case, there hardly seemed
to be much to be gained by waiting. The actual fuck, or attempted fuck, was going to be
the climax to the afternoon's activities, however. I first wanted to see what it would be
like to have my cunt licked by the big bay stallion. After all, I had had my cunt licked
by men plenty of times, and now I knew what it was like to have my cunt licked by a
horny dog. I figured that my experience in the matter could hardly be considered
complete until I had felt what a horse's tongue could do with my pussy.
The only thing which bothered me was that I wasn't sure just how interested a horse
would be in licking a woman's twat. After all, dogs are always trying to nuzzle us there,
but I'd never had the experience of a horse doing that. So, I had a little stratagem
planned.
After I had dismounted and stripped my clothes off, I held a lump of sugar out to
Roland. He had as much of a sweet tooth as any other horse I've ever known, so he
immediately took it. I held out another one, but kept this just out of reach as I sat down
on the grass. I moved it closer and closer to my cunt, and of course that meant that he
lowered his neck and moved his mouth closer and closer to my cunt too.
I finally gave him the sugar, and held out another piece. This one I crushed against my
wet pussy, however, even shoving some of it part way up my vagina, so as to cause my
pussy-juice to be sweet.
SLURP! That was really quite a lick he gave my cunt. About three times as hard as any
other lick that I've ever gotten down there.
SLURP! SLURP! SLURP! Man, that felt fine! A man's tongue is great because a man
has intelligence and knows how to direct it so as to give the greatest and most varied
stimulation possible. A dog's tongue is so thin and soft and flexible that it can fit in just
about anywhere. But with a horse, what's exciting is the blanket effect. Each lick brings
plenty of pressure to bear on every part of the pussy.
He was licking away with real gusto, and he was also breathing heavily through his
huge nostrils. I realized that the sugar was only necessary to get him started. Now, the
taste of my pussy-juice, and the female smells that were coming from my cunt were all
the encouragement that he possibly needed. Horses' noses aren't anything like as
sensitive as dogs, of course, and I guess that that's the reason that horses don't go for
women's cunts when the women are dressed. But now that I was naked and he had his
nostrils right next to my tender pussy, he could really smell how female I was, and the
smell was really turning him on. I don't really know what mares in heat smell like, but
I guess there must be at least some kind of similarity.
"Uh! Uh! Uh! I grunted as I felt the tongue run back and forth across my twat. My
hands were on my breasts, of course, cupping them, squeezing them, and generally
doing to them all the things that tits like to have done to them.
Wham! Wham! Wham! My cunt suddenly exploded in a series of violent shudders, as I
came, and came, and came!
"Whewww, that was something else, Roland, and I mean something else."
I got up, with the horse stretching his neck to keep his tongue where he wanted it,
namely smack bang between my legs. What I was interested in seeing, though, was
whether all this cuntlapping had had any effect on his prick. The answer to that was
that it most certainly had. His penis was stretched out to its full length, and seemed to
be almost literally throbbing with vitality and come need. Well, I was going to see if I
could give it what it wanted.
The problem was that in the first place the thing was so high off the ground. I was
going to have to suspend myself in some way. I had given the matter a bit of thought,
but it was only now that I would find out if my idea would work or not.
I threw each stirrup over the saddle, so that I could hang on to the straps way up high,
where they would otherwise be underneath the saddle. I got under Roland's big barrellike 
belly, and took hold of the straps. Then I sort of jumped off the ground, trying to
swing my legs over his back. It took two tries to manage the task, but I finally did, and
locked the stirrup-equipped heels of my boots (which I had put back on) so that I was
hanging upside down under the horse's belly. The strain on my arms and legs was kind
of tiring, but I figured that I would probably be able to stand it long enough to get both
the horse and myself off.
The next thing was to get his prick inside me. I reasoned that since a woman's cunt can
expand enough to let a baby's head pass through, and since a horse's prick is hardly
half that thick, there shouldn't actually be anything dangerous about sticking it up my
twat. Hell, it isn't even as thick as a gynecologist's hand!
I eased my hips back until my twat was pressing against the tip of the horse's dick. A
bit more maneuvering, and the end of the thing forced its way into me. I say forced
because it really was a pretty tight fit, but by this time my cunt was so thoroughly
lubricated that there certainly wasn't anything painful about having the tip of Roland's
penis inside me.
Of course, I couldn't begin to take the whole length of the thing inside me, but I
figured that stimulating the first seven inches of it would be enough to bring the big,
panting stallion to his orgasm.
I paused for a moment, then started to slide my cunt back and forth over the end of the
penis by moving my hips. The fact that the fit was so tight just made things all the
better for both of us. I don't think that I've ever felt half so stimulated in my life.
"Uh... uh... uh... uh " I grunted. This was hard work, but it was worth it. The thick
penis of the horse was pressing my tender labia against my thighs in a very, very sexy
manner. And with each thrust, I could cause the tip of his prick to press hard against
the entrance to my womb.
I was moving a bit faster now that I had gotten the hang of things, but I was sort of
limited by the fact that I had to hang from my legs and arms like I was doing.
Back... forth... back... forth...
My cunt felt like it was glowing hot, and though my legs and arms kind of ached, I
didn't care. Having my cunt filled up by that horse's huge member like that was all I
needed.
My clit was screaming for release now, and every muscle and nerve in my body felt like
it had been tied in knots. The come couldn't be far now, and I could hardly wait for it.
My muscles gave a final tensing, and I knew that I was right on the brink of my
orgasm. I gave a final shove with my hips, and suddenly everything started to quiver
and shake at once, as my whole body let fly its energy in one massive, cunt wrenching,
mind-blowing, come, come, come!
The feeling of my pussy clutching spasmodically at the end of his prick was all that
Roland had been waiting for. As he gave a long whinny, his cock started to fire, and it
did so with just as devastating effect as it had the day before in my mouth. While my
body shook and heaved to the force of the come, the horse's penis gushed and gushed
and gushed, almost literally filling my cunt with sperm. And since my pussy was so
distended by the thick member anyway, the rippling pulsations that poured down the
thing communicated themselves to my cunt and seemed to go rippling on up my spine.
"Oh... oh... oh!" I gasped after I had finished and I tried to catch my breath. I felt so
weak, and my arms were so tired, that I was tempted to just let go. But I knew that
with the horse's still-rigid prick inside me, that was definitely not a good idea. I eased
my cunt off the tip of his rod and then unhooked my heels. As soon as my feet were
resting on the ground I let go with my arms. I stumbled backward and plopped down
on my back on the grass, gazing up at the round belly above me, and at the big, red
dick that was now slowly pulling back into its sheath. There were several threads of
sperm trailing from it. I was so exhausted, both from the total come that I had had, and
from the fatigue of hanging on under the animal like that, that I could hardly move. I
just lay there gasping for breath while a lot of the sperm oozed out of my over-filled
cunt. Finally, I eased myself out from under the horse and got on my feet. As I did so, a
lot more sperm came pouring out of my cunt. Pouring is hardly an exaggeration. You
just can't believe how much jism a horse has in those big testicles of his. After all,
they're not all that much smaller than baseballs.
I walked around in a limping, halting kind of way, trying to get the kinks out of my
muscles. The fuck had been a tremendous success, but I knew very well that it was far
too exhausting to be anything more than something for special occasions. I like the idea
of having sex with a horse, but hanging underneath one like that just took too much
out of me. I would have to try and figure out some way of getting around that, either
through some kind of special platform, or through training the horse in some way to
get down on his hindquarters.
Unfortunately, neither of these ideas happened to seem very practical, but just as I was
unsaddling Roland in the stable the idea hit me. As soon as I got the horse comfortable
for the night, I went into my study and started pawing through the papers on top of my
desk. I'm not a very neat person, so it took me a while to find it, but at last I did. A
letter from a friend of mine saying that a friend of hers had a Shetland pony for sale.
My friend had written because she thought the animal might be useful for teaching very
small children how to ride. But it seemed to me that if the pony would ride vie, things
would be perfect.
The next day, I called the owner of the Shetland pony and asked if it was a stallion.
"Oh, yeah, and a randy little fellow, too. He's always following the full-sized mares
around, though there isn't any way he could really get to them, if you know what I
mean. If you can find a Shetland mare somewhere, you'd have as many foals as you'd
like I can promise you that."
I wasn't all that interested in going into the business of breeding Shetland ponies, but
for obvious reasons I was very glad to learn that the pony this man had to offer was a
horny little beast. My plans looked like they were going to work out perfectly.
When I got the owner's horse farm, I found both the owner and the pony very
interesting. The owner was a young guy with big, broad shoulders, just the way I like
them. The look on his face told me that he wouldn't have an objection in the world to
having some fun with me. As for the pony, he was perfectly darling.
As I suppose you know, Doctor, Shetland ponies are a breed that comes from the north
of England. They vary in size, but some of them are not a whole lot bigger than a St.
Bernard. That was the case with Thimble here. His size, in other words, was just about
perfect as a fucking partner for me. What was even better was that he was a really
energetic little creature, stamping and snorting and pawing the ground while I looked
him over and the owner explained his various good points.
I was very relieved to see that the owner had not been lying. Thimble was not merely
male, but was a stallion, not a gelding. He had not been deballed.
"You might want to have him gelded, if you're not planning to breed him," the owner
said. "Make him easier for kids to ride."
"I don't believe in gelding horses," I said. "I think all males should be left the way they
are. Particularly male humans."
The look he got from me was unmistakable, and he pressed me to him, kissing me on
the mouth. The lip and tongue action was nice, but what I liked even better was the
way in which he kneaded my ass with his hands. He pressed me down against the
ground, and forced my skirt up and my panties down. Not only wasn't I resisting, I was
getting his zipper undone, so that his prick could have a bit of room. It punched out
hard against his underpants, and I pulled these down too. That meant that it was finally
free to expand to its full length, and that full length was really quite something, too. I
gave it a squeeze with my fingers and found that it was as hard as iron.
"You ready?" he asked me.
"Uh huh," I said. "I guess you are." And I gave his prick yet another squeeze.
My legs were wide open now, my cunt exposed and waiting. It didn't have to wait for
very long. I soon felt the tip of his prick press against my labia, then slide on into my
vagina. I gave a little sigh of pleasure as I felt it do so.
In he went, in, in, in. Then he rested for a while with it in there, so that I could enjoy
the feeling of its size and hardness, and so that he could enjoy my wet, feminine
softness.
Then, he started bucking. Slowly at first, then going faster and faster, unlike the dog,
which had gone at the same breakneck speed from beginning to end.
In! Out! In! Out!
"Wow, you're good," I said to him as he thrust away inside me.
"You're not so bad yourself," he answered, referring to the little counterthrusts that I
was giving with my hips.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
He had gotten me so cranked up already that I felt it wouldn't take much more for him
to get me off. I was right on the brink of my come already, for that matter.
Just a few more strokes would do it, I knew. Just a very, very few more...
One!
Two! Almost!
Three!
Four! And I was COMING! My cunt erupted around the thrusting prick at the same
moment that the latter started to shoot, blasting its load deep, deep into me while we
clung desperately to each other and rode out the hurricane!
When we were done, and I had gotten my clothes in order, he said to me, "That was
quite something, Sally. Any chance we could get together again?"
"Uh huh, as long as you don't get serious," I said. Needless to say, I bought the pony.
It had been a nice fuck, and I was glad to find out that I could still enjoy sex with men.
But what I was really looking forward to was getting it off with Thimble.
I played around with his prick until it was good and hard and he was pawing furiously
at the ground. Since he wasn't all that much bigger than a big St. Bernard, I figured I
could stand the weight on my back. Later, I wanted to erect a sort of shelf that he could
put his fore knees on, but for the moment I wanted to get him used to the idea of
fucking, and didn't want to make things more complicated for him.
He was a smart little fellow, and maybe being so horny had done a lot for his
imagination. Because, the instant that he saw me kneeling in front of him, he got the
idea and climbed aboard. He had never had a Shetland mare to exercise his dick on, so
he had several years of frustration to work off. And since I had already associated
myself with sex in his mind by feeling up his prick, the sight of my cunt was all he
needed. The sight of it, and I guess the smell of it too. I soon felt his knees on my back.
They were a lot heavier than I had expected, but I had an idea. I wiggled my shoulders
so that one of his legs slipped off. Soon the other followed as he realized that because I
was crouching down, he could stand on all fours, with his forelegs on either side of my
body. That was more comfortable for him than trying to balance on my narrow
shoulders, and he set to at once.
Soon he was bucking away like crazy, slamming his prick back and forth inside me. It
was bigger than a man's cock, and the feeling of it filling my cunt was really something.
Soon we were both coming, and coming hard, him with all his pent up frustration, me
with the excitement of knowing what a wonderful little fuck-horse I'd found.
You might think from my account that everything's fine, and that I don't have anything
to worry about. That's true, I guess. Certainly, I've always had a sufficiently liberated
attitude towards sex not to worry too much about the fact that I fuck with animals. But
every now and then I guess conventional feelings assert themselves, and my life does
seem sort of strange to me, which is why I thought I'd come and ask a professional
what he thought about the setup.
Mental and emotional well being is not a matter of conformity to abstract social rules,
but rather of contentment and self-respect. Behavior is only in need of modification
when it clearly stands in the way of the individual's happiness. Even signs of what from
a strict clinical point of view might be regarded as maladjustment should only be seen
as posing a problem insofar as they disturb the patient.
In Sally L.'s case, for instance, it is possible, even probable, that her unwillingness to
become emotionally involved with a man represents some deep-seated trauma of some
kind or another. In most cases, this refusal of human closeness leads to loneliness and
unhappiness, and it is one of the problems that we psychologists and psychiatrists find
ourselves most commonly called on to try and deal with. But in Sally L.'s case, this
original trauma, whatever it was, has been dealt with rather in the manner of an oyster
surrounding a grain of sand with nacre. The human psyche has many defense
mechanisms, and indeed their collective importance in keeping people happy is far
greater than that of the world's psychotherapists.
Because of a genuine independent streak in her personality, and a strong tendency
toward self acceptance, Sally L. does not allow herself to be bothered in any way by her
emotional isolation from men, and has constructed a life for herself with which she is
perfectly happy. Although technically there is an emotional maladjustment present, no
therapy is required. Contentment is all we can aim for, and if an individual possesses it,
this is enough.
Her involvement with animals is to be seen in much the same sort of light. She has
strong physical desires, and she is a very open, natural person who is willing to accept
her desires for what they are, and to act on them. They do not serve the purpose of self
punishment and guilt inducement that we have seen in the two previous cases.
Why, though, the reader may wonder, does she turn to animals when she is clearly
perfectly capable of attracting men?
The answer to this question is not obvious or certain. Doubtless, there is a great deal of
truth to her own explanation, namely that she has a very intense sexual drive, and that
without taking on a lover in the sense of someone who would get into a more or less
permanent relationship with her, she cannot assure herself of male attention at all the
times she needs it, without making use of male animals too.
Then again, as a woman with a strong liking for sex, she doubtless enjoys the variety
which bestiality can provide. It is instructive to note how interested she was in
comparing the different effects of having cunnilingus performed by a man, a dog and a
horse.
Other reasons are unquestionably involved too, and some of these might technically be
seen as pathological. For instance, it is highly probable that she feels some anxiety at
the fact that she has chosen an emotionally solitary life, and by emphasizing her interest
in the physical side of sex, she is in a sense saying, "I don't need the emotional
component. Physical variety is enough for me." Although she is a very independent
minded person, the fact that the unconventionality of her behavior did lead her to seek
some kind of reassurance from a professional shows that she is not completely secure in
her role.
Nevertheless, considering what a difficult task it is for someone to live his or her life
totally undisturbed by its deviance from social conventions (in her case, the main
convention is the one that women should want love), Sally L. should be seen as having
succeeded remarkably well in accepting her life and her desires for what they are. She is
basically very contented with herself and with her life, and since she already possesses
that self acceptance which is the basis for happiness, therapy is clearly unnecessary. If a
person is contented, there is no need to try and restructure that person's life simply to
eliminate technical "maladjustments" which in fact cause no distress. I told her this, and
she is presumably still enjoying herself with her men and her animals.


Case History 4

"Doctor, I don't know what you can do about my daughter, but you've got to do
something! You've just got to!"
The woman saying this to me was a stout matron in her early forties with a loud,
insistent voice. The note of anxiety in her voice was mingled with another strain, that of
aggressiveness. She was, as she conceived it, ordering me to "do something about her
daughter."
The daughter was a pretty little thing, fifteen-years-old, who sat next to her mother with
an expression of embarrassment and annoyance on her face. Every now and then, she
would raise her eyes o the ceiling, as if to say to me, "don't blame me, Doctor. She's
always like this, and I'm afraid that there isn't much that I can do about it."
"Well, Mrs. S.," I said, interrupting the tirade quietly but firmly, "there isn't anything
that I can do in regard to your daughter unless I have a chance to find out what her
problem is."
"Find out what her problem is? Why I can tell you that right off. This disgusting little
creature to whom I've given every possible advantage in the world – has actually had...
relations... with her pet German shepherd! Just think of it. I've given her ballet lessons,
and tennis lessons, and piano lessons, and I don't know what other kinds of advantages,
and she goes and does this to me!"
It was perfectly apparent that Mrs. S. saw the situation essentially in terms of her
daughter having somehow betrayed her by not living up to her expectations.
"Well," I said, "I'll have a talk with her alone to find out what is involved here."
"Alone! You want to exclude her mother, who's giving her just about every possible
advantage that a girl could have? Out of the question!"
"In that case, Mrs. S., therapy is out of the question, and not just with me, either."
"What do you mean?"
"Very simple. The fundamental condition of psychotherapy is for the patient to be
completely honest with the therapist. And this honesty can only be achieved if the
patient is assured of the most complete confidentiality. You might be able to find a
quack who would be willing to accept your daughter as a patient without promising her
confidentiality, but in that case he would learn nothing useful from her, and because
she would not trust him, she would get no benefit whatever from the therapy. You
would simply be throwing your money away."
"Hmmm," Mrs. S. said. She clearly was not the sort of woman who liked to be denied
something, but she was intelligent enough to see that I was telling the truth, and the
idea of throwing her money away didn't appeal to her. Also, she was obviously very
anxious for therapy to be a success, so that she could once again have the showpiece
daughter she wanted for impressing the neighbors.
"But if I do leave you alone together, you will be able to do something?"
"That depends on the nature of your daughter's case. But though I will do all I can for
her, I will not be able to give you any reports on the progress of the therapy."
There was a long silence as Mrs. S. swallowed the bitter pill. Then she said, "Very well.
I'll go out and window shop while you talk with her."
As soon as she had left, the girl said to me, "You know something, you're the first
person I've ever seen in my whole life who stood up to Mother. Dad certainly couldn't
when he was alive."
"I can well imagine," I said. Since it was obvious that the girl .had no illusions about
her mother's personality, nor any particular fondness for the woman, it seemed obvious
to me that the best way to win Linda's confidence was for me to be open with her about
my own dislike of Mrs. S.
"So," she said, "what are you going to do with me now? Shrink my head?" There was a
sly smile on her face as she said that.
"Not unless you want me to," I said.
"But you promised my mother that you were going to do as much for you as you
could."
"That's right, Linda, and I can't do a damn thing for you unless you want me to."
She looked a bit more serious. She was obviously thinking over the implications of that
statement of mine.
"Linda," I said, "I'm going to lay the cards on the table. I know you don't much like
your mother, and I can see why. And I can guess that you feel a pretty strong inner
temptation to not cooperate with me, to make the therapy fail, just to spite her." Linda
nodded her head.
"But why don't you just forget about your mother for the time being. The last thing on
earth I'm interested in doing is turning you into her model daughter. But I am
interested in seeing that you are as happy and as at peace with yourself as you can
possibly be. I'm on your side. I wouldn't be making any reports or recommendations to
your mother. Why don't you level with me, so that together we can see if there's
anything about your personality that maybe you'd like to change. At the moment I
don't know if there is, and I can assure you that the mere fact that you like to make it
with dogs is not enough to convince me that there's anything about you that needs
changing."
"You don't think that there's anything wrong about a girl wanting to make it with
dogs?" she asked.
"Do you?"
"I don't know," she said. "I really don't know."
"Well then, Linda, why don't you tell me all about the whole business so that we can
see what it is that you really do feel about the subject.
"Okay, Doctor," she said, "I guess you are right "
Mom's always been like you saw her now. Or at least, she always has as long as I can
remember. If there was ever a time that she wasn't trying to push other people around
and get them to do just exactly what she wanted, I wasn't there to see it.
I guess it's possible to fight that kind of a person, but I've never learned how. The
reason is that she quite literally won't take no for an answer. There been disagreements
I've had with her which lasted for two or three months, with her bringing up her
demand every day. Finally, you just get exhausted. So, the only way you can deal with
her, or the only way that Dad and I were ever able to deal with her is by adopting a low
profile. Just try and stay out of the way of the shit that's flying around, if you know
what I mean.
There are some things that you can't avoid, though. Mom's big idea has always been
that I should be perfect, and that she was going to make me perfect, come hell or high
water. You've heard about all those dumb lessons that I was made to take. That was
half of it. The other half was this big hangup of hers that I should be "morally pure."
She was always saying how "the most important thing in life for a woman is to be a real
lady".
She carried this to the point that she quite simply wouldn't allow me to date. In my
class, just about every other girl had a steady boyfriend, but I wasn't even allowed to
have a guy take me out to the pizza parlor.
Then, about two months ago, this new boy transferred into my class. And let me tell
you, Doug's a real dreamboat. Not only is he really handsome, but he's smart and a
nice guy, too.
Since all the other girls had steadies, and since Doug was too nice a guy to try and butt
in on somebody else's turf, he naturally gravitated towards me. Of course, I also like to
think that I have some personal qualities that made him find me attractive. Soon, we
were talking together at every spare moment we got in the school day, and he kept
asking me if he could take me out.
I asked Mom if she didn't think at fourteen I was old enough to date.
"What," she said, "do you think that after I spent all that money and time giving you all
the advantages a girl could possibly ask for that I'm going to let you go out and become
some boy's little slut?"
"Mom," I said, with tears rolling down my cheeks, "it isn't a question of my becoming
his 'little slut'. It's just a question of being allowed to have him take me to the movies
or to a pizza joint, like every other girl does."
"I know what teenage boys use cars for, young lady," she said with that superior
expression on her face that just drives me straight up the wall. In other words, the
answer was simply a flat no.
That was so unfair, and pissed me off so badly, that I decided that I was going to see
Doug anyway, whether Mom wanted me to or not. I explained the situation to him,
and though he didn't much like the idea of going behind my mother's back, he was so
eager to spend some time with me alone that he agreed to the plan.
That Friday I told my mother that I was going to my friend Sue's house to listen to
records. Sue was in on the plot, and if my mother called, she was to say that I was in
the bathroom, or something, then call me up at Doug's and tell me to return my
mother's call.
Doug and I would have liked to go out together, but we had to be at his place in case
Sue had to warn me. That didn't matter, though. His parents were out for the evening,
and we listened to records, and chatted. And did other stuff too, of course. I think it's
fair to say that I was every bit as eager for Doug's bod as he was for mine. Soon we
were kissing – French kissing, I mean – and then I felt him put his right hand on my
left tit.
"Mmmm", I murmured. That felt so nice. I sort of wiggled my shoulders slightly to
show him just how nice I thought that that was.
That made him a bit bolder, and I felt his other hand on my knee. It slid up my thigh,
under my dress, and finally ended up on my cunt, which it started to feel up through
the already-moist fabric of my panties.
Wow! For a moment I thought that I was going to come right then and there, as he
pressed his fingers against my tender cuntlips. I wanted to tell him to take my panties
down so that he could place his fingers directly on my wet cunt skin, but there wasn't
any way I could tell him much of anything, not with his tongue way, way into my
mouth like it was.
That didn't matter, though. Doug's attitude towards the situation was just the same as
mine was. This evening was something that we had managed to snatch for ourselves,
and he had to make the most of it. And making the most of it was a matter of sex!
So, without waiting for me to ask him to, Doug pulled my panties down from my soggy
cunt. Then, those nimble fingers of his brushed back and forth lightly over the tingling
labia. I never asked Doug how much experience he had had, but unless boys have a
fantastic instinct for sex, he must have practiced on other girls. I mean, I've beaten off
plenty of times, so I know a little bit about how fingers should be used so as to turn a
pussy on, but I've never been able to give my cunt any finger action half as good as that
which I was getting from Doug!
Back and forth the fingers went, just barely caressing the wet, frantic skin. He gave a
very gentile flick to my clit, which was already about as hard as a little pebble. That
caused a shudder to run through my whole body, but though I don't usually touch my
own clit unless I want to bring myself off right away, Doug was so skillful in the way he
did it that I didn't quite come, though I was sure close.
He pressed his fingers against my maidenhead. I quivered with anticipation at the
thought of having his prick ram on through that membrane of mine. I knew that it
would probably hurt a bit when he did so, but I didn't care. I knew that the pleasure of
having a boy's prick – especially of having Doug's prick – inside me would compensate
for any pain that I felt. I had my own boyfriend at last. Despite my mother's
harassment, I had a boyfriend, and I was so happy about the fact that I could hardly
breathe.
Doug had worked my skirt up around my waist, and he had gotten my blouse
unbuttoned and my bra off, too. He took his mouth from mine and whispered to me,
"are you ready, darling?"
"Mmm, and how," I said.
"I'm afraid that this my hurt you a little bit," he said, as he positioned the tip of his
cock against my maidenhead.
"Don't worry about that," I answered. Actually, I did feel a bit nervous now that I had
the tip of his prick pressing against the membrane like that, but I still wanted him
inside me more than I had ever wanted anything else in my life.
He pressed hard, and the maidenhead gave way suddenly. Then he was inside me, and I
forgot all about the sudden stab of pain I had felt as I enjoyed the sensation of having
my virgin twat totally filled up with my lover's hard prick.
I know you won't believe this, Doctor – well, maybe you will, because you've seen my
mother and you're a perceptive kind of guy, as far as I can make out – but Mom won't
even let me use tampons, because she's so hung up on this virginity bit that she's afraid
that by inserting a tampon through the hole in my maidenhead, I might accidentally
deflower myself! So, I had never had anything whatever up my cunt. The first time
Doug's prick went into it was the first time it had ever had anything up it at all! That
made me feel all the more attached to Doug – the way he was introducing me so totally
to womanhood and sex!
He paused for a moment as we clutched each other tightly. It was so nice to feel his
strong arms around me. I snuggled to him as close as I possibly could, and I could tell
just how much he liked having my soft feminine body pressed against him.
Then, he started to slide his prick back and forth inside me. He went slowly at first, I
guess maybe because he wanted to make sure that he didn't cause me any discomfort.
After all, his prick was so thick! But in fact, he didn't need to worry about that, because
I was so excited that my cunt was absolutely awash with pussy juice.
In... out... in... out...
His hands pressed and squeezed my tits. As you can see, Doctor, they aren't all that
huge, but he seemed to think that they were very nice, anyway. He was particularly
fascinated with my nipples, and kept rubbing them between the forefinger and thumb
of each hand. The nipples responded by swelling up instantly.
In! Out! In! Out! He had gained a lot of speed, now, and was really bucking away
inside me with that tool of his. He had seen that I was able to take anything he chose to
give me, and seeing how excited he was, he wanted to give me plenty.
"Uh! Uh! Uh! Fuck me! Fuck me hard!" I gasped as I felt his cock slam back and forth,
back and forth, pulling my tender labia across my aching clit every time it did so.
I was almost there... almost...
"You're so fine, baby," he said between thrusts. "Just so fucking Fine!"
Just a few more strokes would do it...Just a few more.
He laid them into me one after the other, and then suddenly he sensed that the next
thrust of that dick of his would be enough to get me off.
"Uh! Uh! Uh! Can't stand it Doug! Just can't!"
In he came, inch by inch. He was half way into me now, then two thirds, then three
fourths...
Suddenly his prick started to tremble, and I felt the first gob of man-cream splatter
against the entrance to my womb. The feeling of his cock trembling inside me, and the
knowledge that my very own boyfriend was coming was all that was needed to get me
over the top. Shock after shock of fuck-frenzy went pulsing through my whole body.
Doug and I clutched each other as hard as we could, while we came, and came, and
came...
And even when we were finished, we still held on tightly. It was so wonderful to just lie
there, get ting our breath back, our sex organs still linked together. Doug felt so
wonderfully manly in my arms as I held on to him.
Finally, he pulled out. The two of us sat up on the sofa, and he said to me, "How'd you
like a cola?"
"Fine by me," I answered, and he went to the kitchen to get some. We sat there
together, sipping the iced drinks and chatting. Not that sipping the drinks and chatting
was all that we did by any means. Don't forget that we were still both as naked as jays,
and that meant that we kept glancing at one another. Doug's body was really exciting,
and what made it even more so was the fact that his prick had never gone completely
soft, even right after he had pulled out of me. The sight of the thing, and the
knowledge that before I went to my dumb mother I'd probably be able to get it all rigid
again, really turned me on. I felt the sofa cushions get wetter under my cunt. I hoped
that pussy-fluid wouldn't stain. I reached over and playfully grabbed at his cock. It goes
without saying that he instantly responded by placing one of his hands on my tits.
Pretty soon we were engaged in a strenuous game in which we tried to feel up as much
of the other person's body without getting felt up ourselves. Needless to say, the result
was simply plenty of feeling up, and it wasn't long before both of us were really turned
on again. His cock was as hard as it had been the first time, and drop after drop of
cunt-juice was oozing out of my twat and down the inside of my thighs.
"Mmm, let's say we forget about finishing those drinks and get on to something a bit
better," he said. I was all for that, and lay back, my legs spread.
"You look really pretty that way, but let's try something different for a change. Let me
show you how to fuck dog-style."
"In case I ever want to fuck with a dog?" I suggested. We both laughed at the joke.
Certainly neither of us guessed at the moment that fucking with a dog was exactly what
I was going to end up doing before the evening was over!
On Doug's instructions I got onto my hands and knees, and he positioned himself
behind me. I waited in breathless anticipation for him to make his first move. When it
came, it was nice, too. He grabbed both of my tits from behind and started to press
them against my chest. Having them hang freely from my body like they had been
doing was really kind of exciting anyway, but the contrast offered by having him press
them up against me was even better.
"Mmmm, pretty nice."
"I hope you'll like what's next even better," he answered. What was next was his prick!
I felt him press the tip of it against my labia. He then kind of rubbed it all around over
my twat before finally positioning the head of it inside my cunt and shoving on in.
His cock was really thick, and really long, as I'd already had a chance to find out. Well,
it was every bit as good the second time as it was the first. I trembled slightly as I felt it
go sliding on into me.
All the while, he continued to play with my breasts. It just felt so fine to be getting all
that action simultaneously on my tits and in my twat.
He started to move his penis back and forth inside me in a series of long, easy strokes. I
found myself undulating my hips slightly in time to his strokes, giving sort of counterthrusts.
"Hey, you're good," he said, continuing to work his tool back and froth inside me,
sliding it faster and faster on the film of pussy-juice that covered the inside of my cunt.
That compliment really made me feel good. It struck me that there was such a fantastic
difference between the attitude of my mother, who's always implying that no matter
what I do, I haven't met her standards, and someone like Doug, who likes to build up
other people and make them feel like they've accomplish something.
Cock-in-cunt! Cock-in-cunt! Cock-in-cunt! Man, oh man, oh man, was he ever giving it
to me with that prick of his! My whole body felt like it must be as tense as a piano wire
as he thrust his penis home again, and again, and again.
"Make me come, Doug, make me come," I gasped.
He was glad to do that, too. He speeded his prick action up some more, and I knew
that he was going to have me off any second now. My breath was coming in short,
frantic gasps, my forehead was beaded with sweat, and every few seconds I tossed my
head back and forth, trying to somehow work off the fantastic tension that was building
up inside me.
One final thrust, and I was coming, and coming really hard, with my hips bucking and
heaving while his desperate prick shot gob after gob of sperm into my pussy.
After he pulled out, he looked at his watch and said to me, "you know, darling, I think
you'd better be getting on home. We don't want that mother of yours getting up in
arms, do we?"
It was getting late, and so I pulled my clothes on quickly and headed home. My feet
hardly touched the ground, I felt so happy. I certainly wouldn't have felt anything like
that if I had known that a hurricane was waiting for me at home.
As soon as I opened the door I found my mother waiting in the entrance hall.
"After the advantages that I've sacrificed in order to give you, you go and act like some
slut with one of those boys from your class! Don't you deny it, young lady. Not that
you deserve to be called a lady any more!"
I fact, whether I could still think of myself as a "lady" was one of the last things in the
world that I was interested in, but even it I'd dared tell my mother that, there wasn't
any way that I could do so, not with her carrying on with her tirade at a mile a minute.
As I later found out, what had happened was that my mother had called my friend Sue
to make sure that I was there, just as I had suspected she might. The trouble was that as
luck would have it, Sue happened to be in the bathroom right at the time Mom called.
There's nothing wrong with Sue's mother – I mean, she isn't a fink, or anything like
that – but since she didn't have any idea what the score was, she simply told Mom that
she must be mistaken, since I wasn't there. And though my mother didn't have any way
of finding out where in fact I was, her suspicious mind led her to guess – correctly, as it
turned out – that I had to be with a boy.
The upshot of it was that she ended the argument – because I had finally gotten up
enough nerve to try and answer her back – by telling me that I was grounded until
further notice. And do I mean grounded. I couldn't spend any time talking with my
girlfriends, I couldn't go over to their houses, and I had to walk straight home from
school. Mom knew that school got out at three, and she knew that it was a fifteen
minute walk home.
"I'll give you a bit of leeway, young lady," she said. "You can take until three eighteen
to get here." I'm not kidding about her making it three eighteen rather than three
twenty. Her mind really works in that kind of fiddling, picky manner.
I burst into tears and ran up to my room, which was probably where she was about to
send me anyway. I found Karl, my German Shepherd, there. I've always regarded his as
one of my best friends, and I pressed my face against his warm, coarse-haired body,
while I sobbed.
Somehow, it was very comforting to feel his warmth there against my face, and to feel
his rib cage rising and falling as he breathed. And then suddenly, the idea came to me. I
was so anxious to get even with that dragon of a mother of mine, and here was the
perfect opportunity. She wouldn't let me see Doug because she wanted to make sure
that I stayed "pure". Well, how would she like it if I got some dog-penis up my cunt
regularly? Not so well, I suspected.
I slipped my right hand along the dog's belly until I came to its prick-sheath. I squeezed
this, and was rewarded with a loud "woof'.
"Shhh, quiet," I whispered. "We don't want Mom suspecting anything, do we?" I don't
know whether he understood me or not, but he was quiet from then on, anyway.
I squeezed the prick-sheath again and this time I was rewarded by feeling it grow stiffer
and fatter. Then the end of his penis came gliding out into the open. I rubbed it
between the thumb and forefinger of my right hand, and I guess that he really liked
that, because the prick slid the rest of the way out. I had all of my fingers curled around
it, and I kept giving it little squeezes. The dog trembled as I did so. It was obvious that
he was getting very, very worked up.
I wasn't exactly cool as a cucumber myself. My original idea had just been to get even
with Mom by having sex with Karl. But the more I felt up that stiff prick of his, the
more genuinely excited I became. My cunt was already wet again, and my clit was stiff
and eager for some action. I could also feel my nipples swelling up.
I hurriedly pulled all of my clothes off. I couldn't help wondering what Mom would say
if she happened to come barging into my room at that moment and found me naked
and snuggling up to my dog. Of course, I didn't want that to happen, since all hell
would break loose if it did, but there was something sort of appealing about the idea
too, after all, it would show her just how uninterested I was in all of her stuffy moral
prejudices.
Feeling up Karl's dick was nice, but I sure wanted to do more than just give the dog a
hand job. I wanted to fuck with him, as a matter-of-fact, and I hoped that he would be
willing to help but.
In fact, I didn't have any problems there at all. I got onto my hands and knees in the
"dog-style" position that I had learned from Doug. I figured that it would make things
clearer to Karl if I presented my cunt like that.
He started sniffing at my twat in just exactly the same way that he. would if I were a
female dog. Then, he put his forepaws on my back and moved up closer so as to stick
his dick into me. I was quivering with anticipation, and aflame with curiosity, too. After
all, Doug had given me a nice "dog-style" fuck. How would the same thing with a real
dog as a partner compare with it.
Karl must have had some previous practice on the woman I bought him from. Either
that, or an awful lot of intelligence and adaptability. He didn't have any trouble at all
finding my cunt and slipping his cock into it, and as soon as he had done that, he
started to buck away far faster than Doug had done even at the very end of his fuck.
In-out-in-out-in-out...It was really kind of hard to describe. I mean, the way the dog was
fucking with me was kind of jerky, but regular and mechanical at the same time. I
know that those two descriptions don't exactly go together, but that's how things were,
anyway.
"Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh!" I grunted as I felt the prick slide back and forth inside me. It wasn't
anything like as thick as Doug's prick, but then again, it was almost as long, and the
rapid way in which I was being pistoned by it meant that I certainly wasn't having to
do without stimulation. In fact, I was getting wound up for my come even faster than
with Doug, believe it or not. Incidentally, I was resting the forepart of my body on my
elbows, which meant that by crossing my arms I was able to cup a tit in each hand, and
do some of the nice things to them that Doug had done.
Suddenly, I felt my hips start to heave and shake, and I knew that I was coming. My
cunt clutched frantically at the dog's dick, and it responded by starting to shoot. It
didn't have as much jism as Doug's had, but that didn't matter. It had plenty anyway,
and besides, the way it was quivering there inside my cunt was enough.
As soon as the dog was finished, it pulled out. That was sort of a disappointment, since
one of the things that I had really liked about my fucks with Doug had been the way he
had left his prick inside me for a while after we had finished coming. But I realized that
with an animal, you have to expect some things to be different.
With the release of tension that had just taken place, I could think a bit more clearly,
and the more I thought about what I had just done, the more strange it seemed to me.
In fact, I suppose that I might have started to feel really guilty about what I had done –
after all, I had not merely fucked with a dog, I had been unfaithful to Doug – but right
at that instant, Mom took care of any guilt feelings I might have otherwise had.
"Linda," she called from upstairs with that piercing voice of hers, "it's time for you to
go to bed! Besides, I imagine you're pretty tired out after all the necking you must have
done with your secret boyfriend!"
"Yes, mom," I answered sullenly. What I thought was, "that bitch! That fucking bitch!"
I turned my light out, because I knew that it wouldn't be too long before Mom came up
to make sure that I had. As I lay there in bed, though, I felt a feeling of really intense
satisfaction at the idea that though my tyrannical mother thought that she was bullying
me, when in fact behind her back I was doing just exactly what I pleased, and that
consisted of fucking with my big German shepherd!
She has this tiresome habit of coming into my room in the morning and waking me up,
even on a weekend. She figures that anyone who sleeps beyond nine o'clock is a "sluga-bed" 
– I'm not kidding, that's really the expression that she uses and the morning
after I first fucked with Karl was no different. That really annoyed me, too, because I
would have liked to have some wake-up sex with him too. Well, I could at least content
myself with the thought that I would be getting my own back that evening. It was
something that I could hardly wait for.
Finally, evening rolled around, and I went up to my room with Karl. As soon as I had
closed the door behind us, I was frantically stripping my clothes off. I couldn't wait to
get some more action off of that dog's prick, just as I couldn't wait to get even with my
tyrannical mother some more.
One thing that I'd heard about, but that Doug and I had never had a chance to try out
was oral sex. So, I figured that for variety's sake, that would be something good to put
at the top of the agenda.
I lay back on my back with my legs spread and my cunt pointing at Karl. Obviously, he
was thinking in terms of fucking, and he was rather surprised by the position which I
had assumed, since to a dog our human fuck-position must really seem sort of strange.
But I took hold of his collar and pulled his head down so that it was right next to my
wet cunt. That was all the hint he needed. My female smell must have really gotten to
him, because he started taking deep breaths through his nostrils, and his tongue came
sliding out of his mouth and ran across my labia.
Slurp! Slurp! Slurp! Lick followed lick, and every one was so nice that I thought I was
going to come right away. Not that I wanted to come, though. The feeling of that thin,
soft, wet tongue on my cunt was so nice that I wanted it to just go on, and on, and on.
I glanced at Karl's prick, and saw that it was all the way out into the open. It looked
very stiff and eager. Well, after he had finished licking my cunt, I was sure that I'd be
able to think of some nice way to relieve the pressure there.
It was incredible how exciting that tongue of his felt. I was so soft it seemed to be
everywhere at once. And it was velvety smooth, too. I figured that judging from French
kisses I had had, a boy's tongue would have to feel kind of different on my pussy, but I
imagined that it would probably be pretty nice too.
My fingertips trailed back and forth over the surface of my tits, teasing the soft globes
into a state of utter frenzy. I just couldn't believe how hard my nipples were, and they
seemed to be getting harder by the minute!
Lick! Lick! Lick! I guess that Karl really liked the taste of my pussy-juice, because he
was slurping it into his mouth in the same way that he slurped water out of his
drinking bowl.
Suddenly, his tongue brushed against my clit, and it felt like I had been hit by a bolt of
lightning. My cunt contracted around nothing, and hips started to tremble and heave as
all my built up tension busted out of me at once. But though my hips were trembling,
he just kept on licking. Obviously, he thought that things were perfectly fine just the
way they were!
"Ahhhhhhh!" I moaned, and then I clamped my mouth shut as I realized that my
mother might have heard that. Fortunately, she didn't seem to have. I trembled in
silence as my muscles twitched and spasmed, while the dog continued to lick, and lick,
and lick.
At last I was finished, and I pulled Karl's head away from my cunt, which was so super
sensitized at the moment that it just couldn't bear to take any more of that tongueaction of his.
His prick looked so stiff that I was sure it was aching. I wanted to bring it some relief,
but I also knew that Karl would enjoy relief more if I managed to draw it out a bit.
That meant that I was going to have to be sort of careful about the way I handled that
prick of his if I didn't want him to start coming right away.
I moved my face up to his cock and gave a little sniff. There was something nice about
his doggy smell. Something warm and reassuring. I reached out and touched the cock
lightly. The dog trembled a bit, but I guessed that he wasn't right at the flashpoint. I
was going to have to be somewhat careful about how I handled the thing, but I did
have some leeway.
I slid my tongue out of my mouth and ran it up one side of his cock and down the
other. Then I licked the balls a bit. It was really sort of fun to shove the things around
with my tongue from side to side. They seemed to be pulled up a lot higher than they
normally were. I wondered if this was a normal feature with dogs or with men for that
matter.
All these preliminaries were very nice, but I knew that what both of us really wanted
was for me to get that mouth of mine over his prick. So, after kissing the tip of it, I
slipped my lips over the end of it and started to suck very gently. I think that in sex, at
least judging from my own rather limited experience, one of the nicest things is teasing,
as long as it's done in the right spirit. And so, to get Karl all the more worked up and
excited, I started out by sucking with a light, teasing kind of pressure. But both of us
were too worked up already for me to want to continue too long with that, and soon I
was really pulling on his prick with my lips. Meanwhile, one of my hands started
playing with his balls, while the other one went down between my legs to give my cunt
some of the attention that it was screaming for. There, I was laying on the teasing
action too, trailing my fingers very, very lightly back and forth over my labia, in just the
way that Doug had done the night we fucked. Soon my clit was throbbing so hard it
felt as if a clothespin had been put on it. I shoved my fingers up my cunt and pressed
the tips of them against the cunt-walls. It sort of turned me on to think how only the
day before, that cunt had been completely virgin, and had never had anything of any
kind stuck up it. Well, now it was starting to get seasoned. I was a woman, and nothing
that my cranky mother did could possibly change that!
What really turned me on, though, was the feeling of that hard dog-dick between my
lips. I started out on the very tip of it, but soon slid my mouth all the way down its
length so that I was sucking on its root. After a while, to vary the pace a bit, I began to
slide my mouth rapidly up and down its length. Then I took my mouth all the way off
of it and gave it a couple of big, wet licks with my tongue.
It felt like it was going to break, it was so stiff, and everything about Karl showed just
how tense and excited the big German shepherd was. I could hear him panting away
furiously, and his tongue was hanging way, way out of his mouth.
Suddenly, the prick gave a final little stiffening and started to shoot, pumping away like
mad, sending dog-sperm spattering against the back of my mouth, quivering between
my lips.
The instant that Karl started to come, I pressed my fingers hard against my clit, and
that was most definitely all that was needed. My pussy exploded in a frantic display of
fuck-fireworks, while I continued to press my fingers hard against my labia and clit. It
was a good thing I had my mouth full of prick, because otherwise I might have let out a
moan that my mother would have heard.
Gush! Gush! Gush! The big German shepherd was still firing! He'd come in my twat
once before, but that way I hadn't been able to get any very clear idea of just what an
incredible amount of jism he had in his balls.
When he had finished, it seemed like my whole mouth was full of the stuff. Maybe part
of the reason that I sort of coated the thing with its own cock-juice before finally
slipping my mouth off of it. I wished that I had a mirror on my wall, so that I could
open my mouth and see the stuff inside it. That didn't really matter, though. I could
taste it, and that was enough. I swallowed it down in a big gulp, and felt my clit tingle
with excitement as I did so.
After that, I went to sleep, but there was plenty more fucking the next day, and the day
after that. When Mom had said that I was indefinitely grounded, she hadn't been
kidding. No matter how nicely I asked her in the weeks that went by if I could at least
spend some time with my girlfriends, but she would just answer, "No. You'd just sneak
out and play the slut again."
That kind of attitude really infuriated me, of course, and just made me all the more
determined to fuck with Karl. Doug tried waiting for me to get off probation, but after
three weeks, when I had to tell him honestly that things could go on like this for
months longer, he explained that he couldn't just go without sex forever. I agreed, and
told him that if he decided to take up with some other girl, I would understand. After
all, I knew that I had a sexual partner, and it was unfair of me to expect that Doug
could get by indefinitely without one. But when he did take up with another girl, I felt
so angry at mom, who was the one who was to blame, that I could hardly see straight.
That evening, I went upstairs and got ready to fuck with Karl. When Mom had asked
me where I was going, I just said, "never mind!" and slammed the door. She yelled
something upstairs after me, but I ignored it.
This time I thought that I would try something different by trying to fuck with Karl
face to face. He was an intelligent dog, and I figured that he would be able to adapt to
that.
I lay back on the bed with my legs spread, and of course he started to lick my cunt,
since this was the position I usually adopted when I wanted some tongue-action from
him. I took him gently by the collar this time, though, and pulled him up so that his
penis was right where my cunt was. I took hold of his cock and stroked it, in order to
give him another hint.
Like I say, he really is smart. That hint was all he needed, and he started trying to work
his penis into my vagina. I say started trying because the position was sufficiently
offbeat for him, and sufficiently challenging for a four-legged animal, that he wasn't
succeeding very well until I took hold of his cock again and sort of maneuvered it into
my vagina.
Once it was in, though, he knew what it was that was expected of him, and he started
sliding his prick rapidly back and forth inside me.
It was really kind of neat being fucked by a dog like that. His movements weren't quite
as smooth and confident as they were when he fucked dog fashion, but the fact that I
had his face right next to mine made up for that. He's a very friendly dog, and that
meant that he kept licking my face with his tongue. I liked that, since it made me feel
loved, but I would have also liked it if for variety's sake he had also licked my nipples
from time to time. The thought of what it would be like to have that velvety tongue of
his on my aching tit-nubs was really something else, but he didn't show any interest in
them, I guess because unlike fucking, nipple-licking is something that dogs never do to
other dogs. Of course, dogs don't lick other dogs cunts, as far as I know, but they do
sniff them, and I'm sure that my cunt smells good and female, and that that's
inspiration enough.
Buck! Buck! Buck! Buck! He was getting the hang of it now, and really starting to work
his prick back and forth inside me pretty fast. I was responding with little counter
thrusts of my hips, and every time he pulled his cock out, my cunt would sort of
contract around it as if to keep it from ever being pulled out.
I was gasping and panting, and I knew that my come couldn't be very far off at all.
"Make me come!" I moaned. "Make me come!"
And right at that moment, he did, it so happened. Another one of those sharp jerky
shoves was all that was needed to bring me off, and Wham! Wham! Wham! I was really
letting fly while his prick unloaded inside me.
Man, oh man, it was really quite a come. The only trouble with it was that Mom
witnessed it. She opened the door at just the moment I went over the top, and saw the
whole thing. I guessed she'd heard all my moaning and groaning. I should have been
more careful.
She just stood there in the doorway for a moment, her jaw hanging wide open. Then,
wordlessly she pulled the dog off of me, and slapped me twice. Normally, when she
catches me doing something that she doesn't like I get treated to a real screaming
rampage. But this time was different. She walked in on me day before yesterday, and
since then has not spoken more than ten words to me. Karl was taken off to the vet to
be put to sleep. The vet was going on a brief trip, but said he would board the dog until
he got back. He was apparently just about to shut his office when Mom got there, so
there was no question of the execution taking place then and there. It will when he gets
back though, and I feel real sick about the thought that I'm the one who's causing
Karl's death. I'll never forgive Mom for that, ever. She hauled me off to you because a
friend of yours was once one of your patients. So, there's the whole story, and here I
am.
Linda S. could only be described as a person whose whole personality was under direct
psychological assault, and had been for years. Her mother, clearly a neurotically
possessive woman, demanded perfection and complete obedience. It was a remarkable
tribute to the strength of Linda's psyche that it had remained essentially intact over the
years that it had been subjected to this pressure.
Her defense mechanisms included a certain ironic view of life, and hostility towards her
mother. The people who are most likely to be damaged by having a mother such as
Mrs. S. are those who accept the basic validity of that mother's judgment. In other
words, when they are informed that they are not measuring up, they really feel that this
is the case, and since, because the neurotic nature of the parent's personality means that
they can never perform in a manner which the parent feels is entirely satisfactory, they
end up with intense inferiority complexes.
Linda S. had managed to escape this fate. Her considerable perceptivity when it came to
judging people had enabled her to recognize long ago that her mother's demands were
unreasonable, and so she did not attribute any validity to her criticisms. She was able to
let them just slide off of her like water off of a duck's back. As for the practical matter
of living with her mother, the "low profile" technique she described of avoiding
confrontations while shrugging her shoulders and saying to herself that her mother was
just something that she would have to live through, seemed to have worked well for her
as far as allowing her to maintain a reasonable psychological equilibrium.
I say "reasonable equilibrium" because of course no one grows up with a mother such
as Mrs. S. without being at least somewhat scarred by the experience. Her hostility
towards her mother was perfectly understandable, but the trouble was that it had grown
to such size as to be a veritable obsession. The fact that Linda was willing to do such
strange things, relatively speaking, as have sex with a dog simply to spite her mother,
showed how much emotional energy she had invested in hatred. Someone once said
quite accurately of hatred that it's like an acid, which corrodes not merely things that it
is poured on, but the container which holds it, as well. I feared that unless Linda could
be made to see this, her hostility might grow to genuinely pathological size in the four
more years she would still have to live with her mother.
As for the bestiality, it is obvious that this stemmed partly from sexual frustration, and
partly, in fact primarily, from her desire to get revenge on her mother. I explained to
her that while there wasn't any reason for her to be bothered by the bestiality as such,
that I thought therapy could allow her to gain a little bit more detachment in her
attitude towards her mother.
"Look, Linda," I said to her, "I know for a fact that you're never going to love your
mother, and I think it would almost be strange if you did, given the kind of person she
is. But I think you might feel a bit more contented with yourself if you got around to
taking a more detached approach to her. You've spent most of your life letting the
aggravation she tries to give you slide off like water off a duck's back, but I think that
the fact she broke up your relationship with Doug has taken a lot of the oil out of your
feathers. I'd like to put some of that oil back in. That way, I think you'll reach your
eighteenth birthday in a lot better shape."
She agreed with me, and assured me of her full cooperation.
I also hoped that by continuing the therapy, I would be able to influence Mrs. S. in a
manner which would be favorable to her daughter, and in fact I succeeded. I informed
her, for instance, that while I understood that she no longer wanted to have the
German shepherd in the house, that if she had it destroyed, she would create an
absolutely irreparable breach between her and her daughter. In fact, and absolutely
irreparable breach already existed between the two of them, but I did not think that it
would necessarily be a good idea to point this out. After all, what I was interested in
was the welfare of my patient, and I knew that if Karl was destroyed, my hopes of
getting Linda to take a somewhat cooler view of her mother's faults would probably go
straight out the window. She gave the dog to a friend.
Obviously what would have been best would have been if Mrs. S. had agreed to
undergo intensive, long-term therapy, but I did not even bother to suggest this to her.
It was entirely evident that her answer would be an indignant no, and it seemed to me
very possible that if I made such a suggestion to her, it would destroy whatever
credibility I possessed with her. And I wanted to use that credibility to try and bring
about some improvement in the way in which she treated her daughter.
When the therapy had been going on for several months, I felt that the time was ripe to
approach Mrs. S. With Linda's consent, I had a private meeting with her mother.
"Mrs. S.," I said, "I am sure that I can deal with the problem of your daughter's
attachment to animals."
"Wonderful."
"But you're going to have to let her see boys."
"Out of the question. She'd just play the slut."
"Do you want to have her mess around with boys or with dogs? After all, there's no
shortage of them on the streets." Linda had not indicated to me any desire to mess
around with stray dogs, but I hoped the threat would be effective.
In fact, it was. Mrs. S. hated the idea of her daughter seeing boys, but she hated the
idea of her having sex with dogs even more. I think for a moment she was on the point
of terminating the therapy and going off to another psychiatrist. But here I was helped
by the fact that she was such a stubborn woman that she was not willing to admit to
herself that she had made a mistake in agreeing to trust me several months and several
hundred dollars earlier. So she agreed to allow her daughter to go on dates.
All this may sound a bit tough and ruthless on my part, but remember that as a
psychologist my first responsibility was to my patient. Of course, with her good
judgment of people, Linda soon found a nice boyfriend, and was having sex with him.
Now that her sexual frustration had been removed, her hostility to her mother
diminished to the point that she no longer felt a need for compulsive acts of revenge
such as engaging in bestiality. I felt proud at having given her basically strong
personality that extra bit of support that it needed so as to be assured of being able to
hold out until she was old enough to leave her impossible, neurotic mother.


Case History 5

Renee T. was a very good-looking young woman of twenty-five. She was dressed in
good taste, but in a manner that somehow' suggested that she did not belong to the
regular, run-of-the-mill, workaday world. As a matter-of-fact, the sheet that she filled
out for me indicated clearly that she did not, for she was a circus performer.
"I'm supposed to get married in a couple of months, Doctor," she said, "but I'm not
sure that I should go through with it."
"And you've come to me to find out whether you should go through with it or not?" I
asked her.
"Exactly. You see, I love my boyfriend, but I'm not sure that it would be fair for me to
marry him."
"You don't feel worthy of him?"
"Right. I don't really feel worthy of him."
"What is it about yourself that makes you feel that you might not be worthy of your
boyfriend?" I asked.
She hesitated a moment, clearly unwilling to tell me, but finally she forced herself and
said, "I fuck with animals."
"The animals in the circus?"
"Uh huh. Well, some of them. I mean, I obviously don't fuck with the elephants or the
lions, but I do fuck with my trained dogs and chimpanzees."
"Well," I said to her, "why don't you tell me about it, and I'll see what I can make of
the business."
"It's not the sort of thing that's very easy to talk about," she objected.
"I know it isn't, Rentee, but that's the only way in which I can possibly help you."
"Okay," she said, swallowing hard...
I've been with the circus all my life. My parents were aerialists, and they had no
objection to my making the circus my career too, but they didn't want me to go on the
high wire. My father lost two brothers and his father in an accident, and used to say
that the only reason that he kept on tightrope walking and working the trapezes was
that that was the only thing that he was trained for. But he wanted me to go into
something that was safe. As you can well imagine, my mother was of exactly the same
opinion.
"Besides," my father used to say, "you're such a good-looking girl that you should do
something on the ground, so that everyone can get a good look at you. Half the
members of that audience are men, and I've never heard of a man objecting to looking
at a pretty girl."
Growing up in the circus like I did, I got to be extremely fond of animals. I'd help the
roustabouts feed the elephants and do things like that. But the animals I liked best of all
were the ones in Mara's Menagerie. Mara had this trained dog and chimpanzee act in
which the animals would do all sorts of crazy things. You know, ride bicycles and
things like that. It was always good for a round of applause. It wasn't one of the really
big acts, but it usually went over well.
I thought that Mara's dogs and chimps were delightful. She always kept them spotlessly
clean, so that even the chimps didn't have any unpleasant odor, or anything like that. I
got to be a really good friend of hers, and spent a lot of time with the animals.
Mara was no kid, though she'd had her face lifted a couple of times and kept her weight
down, so that she made a pretty good appearance under the spotlight. She wanted to
retire in a few years, though, and she wanted someone to take over the act. Of course,
finding someone to buy the animals wouldn't be any particular problem, since with
their training they were quite valuable. But she wanted to make sure that they were in
good hands. She knew that circus animals are sometimes exploited and neglected, and
she wanted to make sure that that didn't happen to hers.
You can guess how things worked out. Since she liked me, she agreed to sell her
animals to me when she retired. Of course, my father would loan me the necessary
money. Until then, I would work as her assistant so as to learn the act and maybe get
some ideas of my own on how to improve it.
Four years ago, Mara retired, and Mara's Menagerie became Rente's Animal Riot. I
really enjoyed the work, and like being with the circus. At least, I did until a year ago,
when my father's worst fears were realized. He and Mom fell to their deaths when a
fitting on one of the trapezes broke loose. Fortunately, I wasn't watching, but you can
guess what the news did to me. I seriously thought of giving up the circus right then
and there, but I knew deep down inside that that would just end up making me more
unhappy. I'd still have to earn a living, and I just couldn't see myself in some office job.
Besides, Mara had chosen me as her successor in order to guarantee her animals a
future. It didn't seem to me like it would be fair to sell them to some stranger.
The passage of time healed the hurt a bit, and five months ago I met Luigi. He was a
new aerialist, and a good one. Very handsome, very nice. We fell in love very quickly,
and have been talking marriage ever since. Nothing's ever completely settled in circus
life, so we haven't set an absolute date yet, but it's supposed to be in a couple of
months.
You would think that I would be really happy, being engaged to a man I really love and
respect. I would be, too, if it weren't for this awful lust for animals that suddenly came
over me. I do mean suddenly, too. I think it was about a month after Luigi asked me to
marry him. I was feeding the dogs when I suddenly noticed how incredibly handsome
one of them was. He was a big Dalmatian, with a really sleek, muscular body. I kept
stroking him. His name was Pepper, and I used him in the act to jump through hoops.
I really can hardly imagine what made me do what followed. It was almost as if I was
acting in a dream. From stroking his back, I moved on to stroking his belly. Then, I slid
my hand along his stomach until it came to his prick-sheath. I took this in my hands
and started to squeeze on it. The penis immediately came sliding out into the open, and
I gave that a squeeze.
Pepper gave a loud bark, but it was very obviously a bark of pleasure. I started rubbing
his prick harder and harder. Without even being aware of the fact, I unzipped my pants
and reached my hand into my cunt. As I stroked the dog's prick with one hand, my
other was pressing and pinching and teasing my cunt. I wormed my fingers up it and
spread them apart, while using my thumb to rub against my labia. I sort of squeezed
my hips together to increase the amount of pressure between them. I wanted very much
to do something to my tits, too, since they were also really screaming for action, but
that was out of the question, since of course I only had two hands.
Suddenly, I felt the dog's prick start to shoot. The sperm came gushing out of it, all
over the ground and all over my hand, too. I placed my hand against my mouth and
started licking the dog cream off, while I pressed my fingers against my clit.
Brrrrrrrt! My cunt really ripped loose, trembling and shuddering and heaving, while I
continued to lick at my hand.
No sooner had I finished coming than a feeling of real shock and revulsion hit me.
After all, I had given a dog a hand-job and licked the sperm up! And I hadn't been
talking with Luigi more than half an hour before! What kind of fiancee was I, anyway?
Or person for that matter?
I pulled my pants back up and ran into my trailer, where I washed my hand off until
the skin was red. I also gargled with a whole bottle of mouthwash.
I felt really sheepish for the rest of the evening, and when I finally went to bed, I don't
think that I've ever felt much more miserable in my entire life. I finally did manage to
get to sleep, though. The only troubled was that when I did, I found myself dreaming
about Pepper, and the strangely salty sperm of his that I had sucked off of my hand.
There was a performance next day, and although I guess no one in the audience
noticed, I was trembling throughout, because there was no way for me to deny just
what my interest in Pepper was. As the dog leapt through the hoops, I kept staring
eagerly at the way in which his lean body moved, with the sleek muscles straining. I
knew perfectly well that I wanted to do something sexual with him after the show was
over. I wasn't sure quite what that something was, but there was no disguising how wet
my panties were. In fact, for a moment I was afraid that the moisture would show on
my riding breeches, but fortunately it didn't.
Luigi's a pretty horny guy, and like a lot of people in the circus he's got a pretty open
attitude about sex. So, we've been fucking regularly since we got engaged. Usually, he
likes to come over to my trailer after the performance, so that we can ball.
Tonight was no exception. The only thing that made it different was that this time I felt
all anxious about the fact that my thoughts were so full of the big Dalmatian. I hoped
that Luigi wouldn't notice how distracted I was.
He's a good lover, and it wasn't long before he had me so worked up that I was hardly
thinking about the dog any more. Instead, I just lay back on the bed with my legs
spread while he got ready to stick his rod into me.
His penis is really massive, but that just turned me on all the more. I knew from past
experience that my cunt was so well-lubricated when I was excited that it could take a
prick of just about any size that you'd care to name.
He pressed the tip of it against the entrance to my cunt, then gave a good hard shove. I
let out a little sigh of pleasure as the thing went sliding into me, filling up my female
space. Then, he started to work the thing back and forth inside me, while using his
hands to knead and caress my tits. In fact, he was about the most ardent breast-man
I've ever known. It seemed that there was just no way he could possibly get enough of
squeezing and caressing those sensitive globes of mine.
That sure didn't mean that he was neglecting me down below the waist, however. His
mighty tool was thrusting back and forth like a piston. Every time he thrust it in, I felt
like he was going to smash right past the entrance to my womb. And every time he
pulled out, the cock was so thick that it felt like it was going to pull my pussy inside
out. I don't mean to imply that what he did hurt, or anything like that. He was far too
skilful a cocksman to do anything that would hurt his partner. But I just want to give
an idea of how incredibly virile his fucking felt.
In! Out! In! Out! Every stroke pulled my labia back and forth across my tingling clit
until I though that the poor little button was going to burst.
"Uh! Uh! Uh!" I gasped as I felt his penis slam back and forth inside me.
One final thrust, and he was unloading the contents of his balls into me with gush after
hot gush of sperm! My cunt clutched convulsively at his quivering penis, while my hips
trembled with excitement.
"Coming!" I gasped. "I'm COMING!"
We both gave a sigh of relief when the force of our orgasm was finally spent. He pulled
on out, and we lay there together, our arms clasped tightly around one another.
"Darling," he said, "I've gotta go. I'm supposed to talk with the ringmaster about the
act."
I was sorry to see him leave, since of course I would have preferred for him to spend
the entire night with me. I knew that after talking with the ringmaster, he would
probably not come back for another fuck. It would probably be late, and I knew that
Luigi did not think that it was ever a good idea for an aerialist to let himself get tired
out. As you can imagine, I fully agreed with him.
Even though I was sorry that Luigi had to go, I still felt basically very happy, because I
had had a good, normal fuck, and really enjoyed it, too. I figured that I could look on
the business with Pepper as just a weird kind of attack that I had had.
I lay back naked on the bed, thinking how glad I was to learn that, when to my horror
my thoughts started to wander back to the dog. I tried to think of other things, but the
harder I did, the more insistently the image of that animal's penis forced its way into
my consciousness. In fact, I was sure that I was going to feel compelled very soon to go
to the kennel and get him, and feel up that prick of his.
"No!" I said to myself, but that didn't help either. My whole body was trembling with
repressed desire. I just had to have that dog, and that was all there was to that!
I pulled on my clothes and headed out to the kennel where the dogs are kept. I didn't
want to do what I was planning on, but I knew that there was just no way on earth in
which I could stop myself. I was going to blow Pepper. And maybe fuck him!
As soon as I got the animal into my trailer, I pulled off my clothes in a hurry. Then I
knelt down and slipped my mouth around the big Dalmatian's prick sheath.
No sooner had I done so than the prick came sliding out into my mouth. It was really
neat to feel how it swelled up under the touch of my lips. It goes without saying that
my right hand was down between my legs, giving my pussy fits.
I started out by sucking the very base of Pepper's cock. He gave little sounds of
contentment which indicated pretty clearly just how much he liked what I was doing.
Not that I needed to hear them to know. It was perfectly obvious from the fantastic
stiffness of his prick just what he thought of the mouth-action that I was giving him.
After sucking at the root of his penis for a while, I started sliding my lips up and down
the length of it. While I did so, I pressed my tongue against it lovingly too.
Meanwhile, I was stroking my labia with my fingertips. I even ventured to press my
thumb against my clit very, very lightly, but I only had to do that once to realize that
I'd better be very careful with that little trigger of mine if I didn't want to start coming
right away.
My other hand started out by playing with the dog's balls, but I soon realized that he
probably wasn't paying much attention to that anyway, not with the feeling of my lips
teasing that ramrod stiff penis of his. Besides, my tits were really objecting to the fact
that I wasn't letting them in on the action.
So, I took my fingers away from his balls and started trailing them back and forth over
the surface of my breasts. I particularly liked to use them to kind of lift the tits up a bit,
so that I could let them flop back down again. And for some reason, the underside of
my breasts has always been a very sensitive area anyway. I wonder if that's the case with
other women.
All at once, Pepper's penis started to quiver, and then it began to shoot, sending plenty
of dog-sperm shooting against the back of my mouth. I hadn't really noticed how much
of the stuff there was last night, but now I saw that those balls were really capable of
holding plenty. It seemed like there was dog-spunk everywhere in my mouth, and he
just kept right on shooting, too.
When he started to ejaculate, I pressed my fingers against my clit, sort of pinching it
between the folds of my almost equally tender and sensitive labia. You can guess the
result. My cunt immediately let fly with a real stem-winder of a come, and I pressed my
hand against it as hard as I could while the force of my orgasm tore through me.
I eased my lips off of the dog's penis. I now had a mouthful of sperm. When I give a
man a blow-job, I always swallow his sperm, of course, and for that matter, that's one of
the aspects of giving a man a blow-job which is the most fun. But now I wasn't so sure
that I wished to do that. Something like the feeling of disgust that I had experienced
the night before was starting to creep over me. This time, though, it was not so intense
by any means. And besides, in addition to the feeling of disgust, there was also a real
feeling of desire. I knew that I really wanted to swallow that jism.
And swallow it I did, in one gulp. No sooner had I done so than I regretted my action.
The guilt and disgust got the upper hand. But it was too late for me to do anything
about that now. I pulled my clothes on and took the dog back to his kennel. Then I
returned to my trailer and buried my face in my pillow. I don't think that I have ever
felt anything like that unhappy in my entire life. After all, the first time I went for the
dog could by itself be dismissed as a fluke. A weird whim that happened to seize me.
But since I had given into the same desire a second time that explanation didn't hold.
Besides, it wasn't just a question of sexual deprivation. I had a fine fuck from my fiance
only minutes before this irrepressible urge to have sex with the dog overcame me. And
when I talk of an irrepressible urge overcoming me, I'm not trying to excuse myself in
any way. I'm just telling you how it was. This craving suddenly swamped me, just like a
dieter can suddenly be swamped by a desire for, say, chocolate cake. I'd never had these
desires before. Even though I'd grown up in the circus and spent my whole life around
animals, I'd never felt anything like this. It was just a complete mystery to me. And
what made it all the harder for me to understand was the fact that I was hit with this...
this problem... right at a time when you'd think it least likely. I mean, I had a good,
virile man to service my cunt, I loved him, I wanted to get married to him and have
kids with him, and suddenly here I was really sort of polluting myself. And as I lay
there on the bed, I knew perfectly well that this was certainly not the last time that I
would be having sex with the dog. So far I had given him a hand-job and a blow-job.
Things were escalating, and the next logical step was for me to fuck with him.
"After all," I said to myself bitterly, "there shouldn't be any problems there. He is a
trained dog!"
At that moment, I heard a knock on the door of the trailer.
"Renee, darling, it's me, Luigi. I managed to get rid of the ringmaster early."
"Luigi, I'm afraid that I wouldn't be much fun. I've got a really splitting headache."
Luigi's such a dear that it didn't occur to him that I might be handing him one of the
oldest female excuses in the book. He sounded really sympathetic when he said, "gee,
that's too bad. I hope you feel better soon."
Of course, even though a lot of women tell their men that they can't fuck because they
have a headache, I wonder how many do so because they don't feel worthy of their
man's penis!
The next day I felt a little bit less miserable. For some reason or the other, this craving I
had for animals seemed to come on me only later in the day. When I went to feed them
in the morning, I didn't have any trouble controlling myself.
That evening, though, Luigi came around to fuck. I didn't tell him I had a headache or
anything, since I knew that I couldn't keep using that excuse forever. Besides, I hoped
that if I kept on fucking with him, it would help me resist my desire to have sex with
Pepper. Keeping myself in a state of sexual deprivation was hardly likely to cool down
my sexual feelings for the dog.
Luigi was great that evening, just like he always was. And just like the night before,
when I actually had his prick up my cunt, I could hardly believe that I had ever been
bothered by my crazy desires for Pepper.
My fiance has a lot of imagination, and I guess he likes to kind of show off a bit, too, by
suggesting all sorts of crazy positions that I haven't even heard of. For instance, tonight
he said he thought it would be fun if we fucked while I held my knees together.
"From the front?" I asked.
"Uh huh," he said.
"How on earth can that be possible?" Like most other women, I'd laughed on hearing
that joke that the most effective birth control pill is an aspirin tablet held between the
knees. I'd also believed that there was a basic element of truth to it.
"Just put your legs together and you'll find out," Luigi said with a smile on his face.
I did as he said, and he got on top of me, as if he were going to fuck me in the
missionary position. The difference was that he had his legs outside of mine.
Holding his prick in his hand, he guided it as he shoved it between my thighs so that
the tip of it entered my cunt. He gave a good hard shove, and got on in. I saw at once
that the position was not merely possible, but was very enjoyable. Because the thighs
are so soft and fleshy, the cock doesn't have any difficulty pushing them aside. And
since the cunt itself is up in the basin of the hips, whether or not the legs are closed
doesn't make any difference to them, either. Where there is a difference is right at the
entrance to the cunt, where the labia are squeezed between the cock and the presstogether 
thighs. Of course, that meant that they and the cock both got lots more
stimulation.
He started to slide his cock back and forth inside me, and I gave a little moan of
pleasure. The friction there between my legs was really fantastic! Needless to say, his
hands weren't exactly idle, and my tits were having just as good a time as my cunt was.
In! Out! In! Out! The muscles in his back rippled as he bucked his hips back and forth
so as to slide his cock up and down inside my cunt.
"Mmm, really fine!" I purred as I felt my taut twat clutch at his pistoning rod.
Cock! Cunt! Cock! Cunt!
Almost there... almost... almost....
Then, suddenly, I was letting fly, my whole body trembling with the pent-up force of a
good, hard come, as his penis shot its load deep up into me.
We lay there together for some time with his cock inside me. Then, when he pulled
out, he announced softly, "you know, darling, this time there's no reason for me not to
spend the whole night with you." Normally I would have been overjoyed to hear that,
but this time there was a definite feeling of disappointment at the fact that I wouldn't
be able to have some fun with Pepper. The fact that I reacted like that to the news that
my fianc' was going to spend the night with me made me feel terribly guilty.
Not so guilty, though, that all the nice little things that he did to my cunt and tits with
his fingers as we lay there didn't manage to get me all worked up again. Then, when he
sensed that I was hot once more, he started kissing his way down the length of my
body. The process took quite a while, since he had an awfully hard time getting past
such detours as my nipples, but it was perfectly obvious what his ultimate destination
was, namely my steamy little pussy! I've always liked oral sex, and I wriggled my hips
in anticipation as I felt his lips get closer and closer to my cunt. In fact, I thought I was
going to go out of my mind with impatience as he browsed around right at the border
between my pubic triangle and my belly, just inches from my cunt. Finally he moved
on down between my legs, and I shuddered with delight as I felt his lips connect with
my labia.
His tongue darted out and caressed the soft folds of female flesh, and even ventured to
give a lightning-fast lick to my clit that made my whole body shudder. Then he slid the
tongue up my vagina, pressing the tip of it against the slick cuntwalls. After he played
around inside it like this for a while, he pulled the tongue into his mouth very fast, in
order to get plenty of cunt-juice into his mouth, I guess. The tongue went back up my
pussy for more of the stuff, and soon he was slurping away like crazy. He seemed to
want to drink up all the cunt-dringle that I could produce, and since there was no end
to the amount that I was able to secrete, he was kept a pretty busy man.
"I can't stand it! I just can't... just can't!" I moaned as I felt his tongue slide on into my
pussy for the umpteenth time. When I get worked up during sex, I really get worked
up, and I was not kidding when I said that I could hardly stand what he was doing to
me. That tongue-action of his was perfectly delicious, but I was just going out of my
mind with my need for a come!
Luigi's pretty good at reading my moods, and he could tell that I wasn't just saying
that. So, he decided that it was time for him to get me off, and of course, in my present
state of frenzy, that didn't pose any problems of any kind at all.
He pulled his tongue slowly out of my cunt until just the very tip of it was still inside.
He kind of pulled this tip around in a circle, stretching the edge of my pussy now one
way, now the other, while I grunted and gasped and moaned. Then, he started to slide
his tongue-tip in the direction of my clit.
I knew perfectly well what would happen the instant his tongue touched me there, and
so did he. That was why he was prolonging the moment ox delicious agony.
Closer and closer he came, until I was absolutely sure that he was going to touch me
there the next second. But then he suddenly moved his tongue back again, leaving me
shuddering with frustration and disappointment. It was then that he slid his tongue
back again, taking me totally by surprise.
Lick! Lick! Lick! He managed to get three strokes in on my ambushed clit before the
come hit me, but when it did, it really hit hard.
"Uh! Uh! UHHHHHH! Coming! Coming! COMING!" I moaned as I felt the force of
my orgasm slam through every muscle and nerve in my body. My hips were really
heaving, too, but that didn't bother Luigi. He just kept his face glued to my tender twat
and kept on mounting it while riding with the punch, so to speak.
"So... fine...So... fucking... fine..." I gasped between gulps of air once my come had left
me. I knew that that had to count as one of the great tongue-jobs of all time.
"Glad you enjoyed it," he answered, raising his face from between my legs. The lower
part of his face was all wet with pussy-juice.
Luigi is a very considerate guy, so that even though his prick had gotten all stiff again
with excitement while he was tonguing my twat, he waited until I had gotten my breath
before shoving his rod in me. When he did so, though, it was every bit as hard and
virile as the first time.
It was nice having him spend the whole night in bed with me, and my disappointment
at not having a chance to do anything with the Dalmatian was strictly a low-key feeling.
But when he left my trailer in the morning to go rehearse his act, I knew that I didn't
want to wait till that evening for a chance to enjoy myself with the dog.
I brought Pepper to my trailer and pulled down the blinds. Not that anyone was likely
to try looking in the windows, which were small and high up, but I guess that pulling
down the blinds made me feel less ashamed of the weird thing that I was doing.
It was clear to me that I had secretly wanted to have the dog's penis up my cunt for the
last couple of days. It had just been because I hadn't wanted to admit that to myself
that I had messed around with the hand-jobs and the blow-jobs.
I didn't want to start out with a fuck, though, since there was something else that I
wanted to try with him, and for which I needed a horny dog. That tongue action of
Luigi's the night before had reminded me just how much my cunt liked that sort of
thing. I was curious to see how a dog's tongue would compare to a man's.
So, I lay down on the bed with my legs spread invitingly. I had ordered Pepper up onto
the bed earlier, and once he saw my cunt and got a whiff of my cunt-smell, he went
right to work. He shoved his muzzle against my twat so that I felt his cold black nose
on my labia. Then his tongue went sliding out of his mouth and across my twat, while
my hips shivered with excitement.
"Mmm, good boy, good boy," I said as I felt the thing press against my cuntlips. It was
so soft and velvety that it felt almost like it had been molded to my cunt. It pressed
down on every tender little spot.
I guessed the taste of my pussy was really driving him wild, because his tongue lapped
away at my cunt faster and faster. I could also hear him take deep, funny-sounding
breaths through his nose, breaths which I guessed were intended to allow him to get as
much of my female smell through his nostrils as he possibly could.
I pulled on my nipples, and the things swelled up instantly. Then I sort of rolled the tits
around on my chest, clutching them hard with my fingers. As you can see, Doctor, I
have pretty large breasts, and they're every bit as sensitive as they are big.
Slurp! Slurp! Slurp! I was grinding my ass on the mattress with excitement as I felt the
tongue lick, and lick, and lick at me.
"Make me come, boy! Make me come! That's the way! That's it! Mmm, so nice!"
Then, his tongue happened to slide over my tingling clit. The response was instant. My
hips felt the electricity that had built up in them discharge all at once, in a series of
great, crackling come sparks, while the dog continued to lick at me.
I lay back on the bed, gasping for air as the tongue kept on sliding against my labia.
Finally I had my thoughts collected enough to let me look at the dog's hindquarters,
and what I saw there made me horny all over again, despite the fact that I had just had
a come. It was his prick, slid all the way out of its sheath and ready for action. It looked
stiffer than I could remember it ever being before.
"Okay, boy," I said to the dog, patting him on the head, "don't worry, you're going to
get your reward."
I gave the cock a couple of quick strokes with my fingers, and found out that the thing
was every bit as stiff to the touch as it looked. Obviously, there wasn't any point in my
continuing to waste time, so I got up onto my hands and knees and presented my eager
cunt to the dog.
Slurp! I felt his tongue slide over it, and realized that although the dog was so horny
that his prick would have broken in two if it had tried to get any stiffer, he was too
dumb to guess just what it was that I had in mind.
"For heaven's sake, you're supposed to be a super-intelligent trained dog!" I said to him
as I reached back and lifted his forepaws onto my ass. That was all the encouragement
that he needed, though. Once his paws were lifted up like that so that he was in the
traditional canine fuck position, he guessed what the score was. He moved his paws up
along my back and then shoved his prick into my cunt. That, at least, he managed to
do well. He didn't fumble around trying to find out exactly where my female hole
might happen to be located. He got his cock in first try. And when he started to buck
his prick back and forth inside me, he was every bit as satisfactory in his performance.
I guess he really must have gotten pretty worked up tonguing my cunt, because there
was an almost frantic quality to the way in which he rammed his prick back and forth
inside me. It was as if he thought that he was going to go crazy if he didn't manage to
get a come right then and there. Since I didn't feel all that much less turned on then he
did, I had no objections to the fact that he was working me so frantically. My clit was
throbbing with excitement as every one of his thrusts pulled my labia against it, and
there were plenty of thrusts, too, because he was shoving his prick back and forth
much, much faster than any man I had ever known.
Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck. Just like some kind of little piece of machinery. His cock was not
anywhere as thick as Luigi's, for instance, but it was at least good and long, and besides,
it wasn't the physical dimensions that were important. What was turning me on for
some reason, besides the physical stimulation that my cunt was getting from his prick,
was the mere thought that I was being fucked by a dog.
I had my elbows resting on the bed and my hands cupping my tits, which I cupped and
squeezed.
"Fuck me hard boy! Fuck me hard!" I groaned as I felt the prick ram home again, and
again, and again.
My body felt like it was being wound up by some giant key. Every muscle was getting
tenser, and tenser, and tenser, and every nerve was just waiting for the signal to let
everything unwind in one great big frantic burst of come energy!
In! Out! In! Out!
Then, I felt my body go sort of numb for instant, and a split second later it was
overwhelmed with sensation as I started to come, and come really big and really hard.
The dog was coming too, his eager prick triggered by the feeling of my hot cunt
clutching spasmodically at it. As every muscle in my body unwound in jerk after
convulsive jerk, his cock trembled inside me, shooting its load of sperm up into me,
blob after warm blob of it!
I guess that maybe I was getting a bit more used to the idea of my strange desires. This
time, after I had finished with the dog, I didn't feel anything like as overwhelmed with
guilt as I had the times before. Of course, that in itself bothered me in a way, since
having sex with animals was hardly something that I wanted to get all accustomed to as
something that just took place as a matter of course. After all, I still wanted to marry
Luigi, and I knew that I loved him far to much to ever be willing to marry him and
carry on with dogs behind his back. All I could do was hope that these weird desires of
mine would just vanish one day as inexplicably as they came. Of course, Doctor, the
fact that I'm sitting here opposite you is a pretty good indication, I guess, of just how
much luck I've had with them vanishing.
I had reason to be hopeful for a while, though, since after I fucked with Pepper, my
hunger for dog-prick was kind of dormant for a while. It was as if I had tried out
everything that there was to be tried out, and consequently had satisfied my bizarre
curiosity.
The reason that this peace of mind was very short-lived, however, was that another,
even weirder desire started to come to the surface. A desire for the chimps that made up
the other half of Rente's Animal Riot!
I have two chimps, Freddy and Eddy, and I've always treated them as pets. They're very
cute and good natured, and they didn't have any of that unpleasant ape odor that
chimps sometimes get.
A couple of days after I fucked with Pepper for the first time – I mean fucked in the
sense of having his prick up my cunt rather than in my mouth – I was undressing the
chimps after the show when I noticed their pricks for the first time. I know that sounds
sort of funny, but it was true. Although both of the chimps were male, and I knew that
fact perfectly well, their pricks were something that I never happened to pay much
attention to before. But this time, as I took off the little hobo suits they do their act in, I
found my eyes riveted to their cocks.
They were very similar to a man's cock, though not as big. That doesn't mean that they
were small, though, and I could perfectly well imagine how nice they might be up my
cunt.
"Oh, no," I thought, and turned my face aside. First the business with the dogs, which I
had hoped was blowing over, and now this new desire for the chimpanzees! I knew
though that the desire was stronger than I was, and that there wasn't anything to be
gained from trying to resist it. It would overcome me in the end anyway.
I led Freddy into my trailer. I figured that one chimp would hardly enjoy watching the
other get his prick worked on while he was left to his own devices, and also, the trailer
was more private, though there wasn't much chance of anyone showing up where the
chimps were kept, either.
As soon as I got Freddy inside, I started to feel up his prick. It erected at once, and I
was impressed at how big it got. A lot bigger than I had thought just looking at it in its
limp state. In fact, erect it wasn't much smaller than a man's prick at all.
I bent over and took the thing in my mouth, while Freddy gave excited little "eek-eek"
sounds and tugged gently at my hair.
The prick felt as good in my mouth as any man's prick ever has, and I slid my lips up
and down it with a slow, even motion while busily fingering my cunt.
You know how chimps are so restless. They can't sit still for an instant, and they always
have to be pawing something with their hands. Freddy was just like that, and kept
pawing my face while I sucked on his prick. That was okay in a way, I guess, but it was
also a little bit tiresome, and it struck me as a waste of two perfectly good hands. I
moved my body so that my tits were within reach, and I placed his hands on them. He
got the idea at once. In fact, even though female chimps don't have tits, he was
absolutely fascinated by my soft, hanging globes, and kneaded and squeezed them in a
really sexy kind of fashion.
Meanwhile, I had taken my lips off of his cock for the moment and was sucking his
balls, which were pulled up really tight against the root of his prick, just like a man's
do. After that, I started to give his cock a series of kisses up and down its length,
applying my mouth to it sideways like one does with an ear of corn on the cob.
"Eeek-eek! Eek-eek!" the chimp said. The tone of voice indicated that he wished to
convey satisfaction with the way I was handling his prick. Well, I still had some more
tricks up my sleeve, too.
I slipped my mouth back over his cock, but this time I concentrated on just the tip of
the thing. I knew from experience how men reacted to having their cocks sucked right
at the place where the knob joins the shaft, and since the chimp had a regular man-style
prick with a knob, I hoped that he would react just as positively.
"Eek-eek! eek-eek!" He was really giving my tits the treatment now, pulling on the
nipples and squeezing the globes together. It seemed that that meant he really liked
what I was doing to his cock.
Meanwhile, my fingers were pulling carefully at my labia, making my cunt feel hotter
and hotter with every second. I knew just how ready for a come I was. Well, the chimp
didn't feel like he was far from his, either.
I pressed my lips against his cock a little bit harder, and his penis responded by
stiffening up just a little bit more. Then, it started to gush, sending a warm stream of
chimpanzee sperm up into my mouth.
I pressed my clit with my fingers, and my hips erupted in a frantic come explosion
while I felt his rod continue to unload into my mouth. It was a very, very nice come for
both of us.
Freddy and Eddy are good friends, and I always think of the two of them together.
Partly for that reason, partly because it seemed unfair to treat one of them to some sex
and leave the other out, and also because my desire hadn't been by any means
completely taken care of by the little session that I had just finished with Freddy, nice
though it was, when I took him back to his cage I got the other chimp and led him to
the trailer.
A little bit of hand-action got Eddy's prick every bit as stiff as Freddy's had been. This
time, though, I didn't plan on sucking it. I wanted to have an actual fuck.
I wondered what position would be best, and then it occurred to me that I hadn't top
ridden anyone in ages. Normally I'm perfectly content to adopt the passive, female
position in sex, but it's nice for a change to play the aggressive role once in a while. So,
I got the chimp to lie down on the bed, and then I knelt over him and squatted down
on him.
I guess that all of this seemed kind of strange to him, judging from the tone of his 
"eekeeks", but he seemed to be enjoying it, too. As for me, I was having a great time,
moving my cunt up and down along the length of his prick. Since it wasn't quite as
long as a man's penis, I couldn't use such long strokes as I otherwise could, but aside
from that, things were much as they were the times that I had top-ridden human
partners.
Up and down I went, up and down, up and down. His trunk was so short that there
was no way I could expect him to keep his hands on my tits if I had adopted a
"forward-and-back" kind of motion like I sometimes did with human partners so as to
make my breasts more accessible. That didn't really matter, though. I had my own
hands on my tits, and was doing a perfectly satisfactory job on them.
Suddenly, I felt my body tense, and then it let fly in a good, hard come. Again, Eddy
seemed a bit surprised, but he certainly wasn't too surprised to be able to shoot a good
load of hot jism up into my cunt as soon as my cunt started clutching desperately at
that penis of his.
I have a pretty inventive mind when it comes to sex, Doctor, and so even though top
riding Eddy and blowing Freddy had been fun, there were all sorts of other things that I
wanted to do with them. I knew that those would have to wait until the next day,
however, since both of them seemed pretty fucked out, and besides I had somethings to
do before going to bed.
Luigi came over that night, and once again we had a good fuck. I had to admit to
myself, though, that physically and perhaps in other ways, too, the chimpanzees and
the dogs were every bit as satisfying as he was. That was a disturbing thought, too,
because Luigi has to count as one of the greater cocksmen on the face of the earth. If I
thought the animals were as good as he was, that seemed to imply that I would prefer
them to most men, since most men sure weren't as skilled as Luigi was when it came to
handling a woman's body.
The next day, I decided to find out how a chimp would be in the active role as a fuck
partner. I chose Eddy again, since he had already had his prick inside my cunt once,
and I figured that that would give him a better idea of what to expect.
It took a bit of pointing and other forms of encouragement to get him to stick his cock
in me, but when he did, it was really kind of neat. I was lying on the bed with my legs
spread, and instead of lying on top of me, the chimp was sort of sitting between my legs
as he worked his prick back and forth inside me. And while he did so, he clutched my
waist tightly between his hands. We both had a very, very nice come.
Since then, we've done all sorts of other things together, including a threesome in
which one of the chimps balled me while I blew the other one.
I haven't been neglecting Pepper, or the other dogs, for that matter. In fact, my desire
for animals seems to get greater every day, like some kind of awful cancer. That's what
worries me.
That, and the fact that Luigi still wants me to marry him. I still love him, too, but that's
the problem. I love him far too much to want to go sneaking behind his back with the
animals once we were married. It's bad enough doing that now. But I don't want to
give him up, and besides, if I broke off with him, I could hardly tell him the reason,
and I'm sure that he'd feel all hurt and rejected. That's why you're really my last
chance, Doctor! I just don't know where else to turn!
Renee T.'s account is a useful addition to our collection of bestiality cases, but it would
be every bit as much in place in a book dealing with the phenomenon of compulsive
behavior, of which it represents the classic type: the patient is seized with an
inexplicable need to do something which runs counter to his or her conscious desires.
Efforts to control this craving have little success, and the patient indulges in it despite
the fact that he or she knows that doing so is very detrimental to his or her happiness.
Compulsive behavior is a very complex phenomenon, but the cause of it is usually to be
found in the interaction of some past trauma with a particular situation in the present.
Intensive therapy is usually needed to discover just what the factors are than are
involved.
Acting on my advice, Renee T. told her fiance she was having emotional problems for
which she wanted to obtain treatment, and that in consequence she was dropping out
of the circus for a while so as to be able to stay in one place. Also on my advice, she did
not inform him of the exact nature of her emotional problems. Contrary to popular
belief, honesty is not always the best policy in personal relations, at least in certain
matters. There are definite social prejudices which have to be allowed for, and it would
be a very rare man indeed who would be able to retain his respect for a woman once he
knew that she had sex with animals, even though logically there is certainly no reason
while his feelings towards her should change. But then, "logically", all prejudices are by
definition irrational.
Luigi was a very loyal, supportive individual, and he told Renee that he was willing to
wait for her, for a year, at least. And if she could assure him at the end of that time that
substantial progress was being made, he would be willing to wait even longer. Needless
to say, this kind of love and support is very helpful in allowing a patient to face the
emotional rigors which therapy inevitably involves.
As a matter-of-fact, the basic element which was involved in Renee's compulsive
behavior did not take long to discover. Her whole family had been aerialists, and they
had all been killed performing. The death of her father and mother was a particularly
severe blow to Renee, as she admitted in the course of the first interview. Now, her
fiance was also an aerialist, and it became clear to me that she was subconsciously afraid
of losing him in tie same way that she had lost her father and mother. The bestiality
was an attempt, subconscious in nature, to protect herself from being subjected to the
pain of that kind of loss in the future. On the conscious level, her love for Luigi was far
too strong for her to simply refuse to marry him because of his profession. And, indeed,
she was not even consciously aware of the fact that she objected to his profession.
Therefore, the defense mechanisms of the subconscious swung into action, once the
past trauma (her parents' death) began to interact with her present situation (her love
for an aerialist). It decided to make her engage in an activity which would make her feel
that she was not worthy of her fiance. That way, she would break off the engagement
and protect herself against the tragedy of being widowed by a trapeze or high-wire
accident. The fact that this defense mechanism made her intensely unhappy did not by
any means make it any less one of a defense. The defense-mechanisms of the
subconscious work on a very local level. They deal with one particular source of anxiety
(in this case her fear of marrying Luigi), without taking into account the effect which
their action will have on the psyche as a whole. That is why, paradoxically, the mind's
natural defenses are sometimes those things against which the therapist has to struggle
hardest.
Would her bestiality have stopped if she simply broke off with Luigi? That was difficult
to say. It might have, though that was by no means certain, since that kind of behavior
often has a self reinforcing quality: because she had sex with animals, she might feel
that she no longer deserved to have sex with any man, and had to continue with
animals. It is very easy for the mind to get caught in that kind of whirlpool.
Once this hidden motivation for her bestiality was brought out into the open, where it
could be dealt with on a conscious rather than subconscious level, the bestiality
stopped. With no psychological need to sustain it, her craving for animal sex
disappeared. She realized that she had to make a rational, conscious choice between her
love of Luigi and her anxiety about his profession. She chose him. Fortunately,
however, because she talked with him about her fears that he might get killed, he has
agreed never to try and excite the crowd by performing without a net.


Conclusion

It should be apparent to the reader at this point that the term "bestiality" can only be
used to describe a particular pattern of behavior, namely sexual relations between a
person and an animal. It cannot be used as if it stood for one particular form of
psychological fixation or abnormality, for the simple reason that this form of behavior
can have the most varied causes.
For instance, Roberta T. in the first case turned to animals as a form of self-punishment
for her imagined sexual inadequacy, and her bestiality was an indication of the narrow,
loveless view which she had of sex. Helen K. sought to remedy a state of severe sexual
deprivation, and also to give symbolic expression to the hostility and contempt which
she felt for her husband. Hie motive of punishing another through one's own abnormal
behavior was even more strongly present in the case of Linda S., whose bestial
involvement was a direct form of retaliation for her mother's outrageous strictness, and
indeed was a retaliation carried out on the conscious level, unlike that of Helen K., who
was only vaguely aware of what motivated her to have sex with Siamese cats and St.
Bernard dogs. In the last case, Renee T.'s sexual activities indicated a profound and
deeply-seated emotional problem which stood directly in the way of her happiness. In
the case of Sally L., the riding instructress, emotional problems may conceivably been
present, but her subconscious defenses managed to take care of them in a successful,
nondestructive manner.
Obviously, if bestiality is itself such an incredibly varied phenomenon, the response of
the therapist must be equally varied. The first thing that he must do is determine if a
treatable problem in fact exists. This sometimes requires a certain amount of subtle
discrimination. For instance, when confronted with a Sally L., he must concentrate on
the basic fact of her situation, namely her self-acceptance and contentment, and not
allow himself to be distracted by signs of what are probably, from a technical point of
view, "personality disorders", but harmless ones. Conversely, his perception of the fact
that Linda's purely conscious efforts at revenge on her mother are basically a natural
enough response to her situation should not blind him to the fact that her psychological
resilience was starting to weaken, and that she needed both to have her resolve
strengthened and to have some one attempt some kind of practical mediation to
improve the circumstances of her home life.
Although in some cases women engage in bestiality without there being any serious
underlying emotional problem, this is not usually the case. Having sex with an animal
is a violation of a strong taboo, and most people do not violate taboos lightly. Indeed,
when they to do so, it is because there is some emotional pressure acting upon them so
strongly that they effectively have no other choice. In such a case therapy is clearly
needed.
But, as bestiality itself is simply the manifestation of an underlying problem, the
therapist should not allow himself to be distracted by it. In order to take care of the
craving for animals (which may, admittedly, be causing the patient a great deal of guilt
and emotional stress), the therapist should go for the root cause of which the bestiality
is only a symptom. Often, as in the case of Renee T., or to some extent that of Roberta
T. or Helen K., the connection between the underlying problem and the bestiality is
more intuitive than logical. And in some cases, there is no logical connection at all.
Roberta T.'s desire for self-punishment could have perfectly easily found some other
outlet, in the form of, say shoplifting. The therapist must therefore examine the
patient's personality as a whole if he seeks to discover what it is that causes her to want
to have sex with animals.
It will have been obvious to the reader that woman who do engage in sexual relations
with animals often find themselves carrying a heavy burden of guilt. In some
circumstances, such as Roberta T.'s need for self-punishment, the guilt actually has a
function, albeit a rather destructive one. In other cases, it is simply a byproduct of taboo
violation. In either case, the therapist should concentrate strongly on removing this
guilt, for the purpose of psychotherapy is not to make people conform, but to make
them happy.


BIBLIOGRAPHY

Berne, Eric, M.D., Sex in Human Loving, N.Y., 1970

Bier, Francis, The Adolescent, his Search for Understanding, N.Y., 1963

Bonaparte, Marie, Female Sexuality, N.Y., 1953 (trans.)

Deutsch, Helen, M.D., The Psychology of Women, N.Y., 1949

Fleming, Charlotte, M.D., Adolescence, its Social Psychology, London, 1948

Freud, Sigmund, Civilization and its Discontents, N.Y., 1930 (trans.)

Horney, Karen, M.D., Feminine Psychology, N.Y., 1967

Karpman, Benjamin, The Sexual Offender and his Offenses, N.Y., 1954

Kinsey, A., Sexual Behavior in the Human Female, Philadelphia, 1953

Konopka, G., The Adolescent Girl in Conflict, Englewood Cliffs, N.J., 
Krafft-Ebing, Baron Richard von, Psychopathia Sexualis, N.Y., 1939 (trans.)

Laing, R.D., The Politics of the Family, N.Y., 1960

London, L.S., M.D., and Caprio, F., M.D., Sexual Deviations, Washington, 1950 

London, L.S., M.D., Sexual Deviations in the Female, N.Y., 1957

May, Rollo, Love and Will, N.Y., 1969

Piaget, Jean, and Inhelder, Barbel, The Psychology of the Child, N.Y., 1969 (trans.)

Stekel, Wilhelm, Peculiarities of Behavior, N.Y., 1941

Tridon, Andr6, Psychoanalysis and Love, N.Y., 1949

Weinberg, Martin S., Deviance, the Interactionist Perspective, N.Y., 1969

Note: Bestiality, like other forms of sexual behavior, can only be understood in context.
Some of the titles above were included not because they dealt specifically with the
subject of human/animal sexual relations, but because of the light they shed on the
dynamics of deviant behavior in general.


THE END
