Chapter 10

Nathalie prayed that her master would leave, but he seemed in no hurry. When he finally got up and pulled the dog oS of her, he ordered her to rise and dress herself.

"Go away," she begged. "Leave me alone."

"I give the orders," he reminded her sternly, and there was nothing for her to but comply.

She took as long as she could, but he would not give up or leave. He stood by the door, the great dog held tightly on the leash, and watched her clean herself and slip back into the horrid garments. When she sat down at her dressing table to brush her hair, he grew impatient.

"Come now," he chided her. "I cannot be expected to wait forever!"

"Oh, that you would," she sighed.

Remorsefully, she laid down the brush and got to her feet. Setting her jaw, she raised her head high and turned to face him.

"I am ready," she said firmly.

"Then come along with you," he answered, and, opening the door, he led the way down the stairs and out into the courtyard.

She fought the churning urge to shrink back when he opened the door to the kennels. She had hidden her feelings from him once. She would not let him best her now. Head still high, she marched on into the bedlam of barking animals. She looked neither to the right nor the left, but stood stonily, waiting for him to lead the way.

"Now," he said proudly, "I am going to show you how very special these animals are. It is not an easy matter to prepare a dog for this special purpose. Edvard! Sven! Are you ready?"

Nathalie braced herself as she marched along behind him. When they reached the rear of the building, the slab she had been strapped to that first, terrible time had been turned up to form a table, and a young male dog was bound to it.

He was lying on his side, his hind legs stretched back, his forelegs forward. Sven was rubbing the large prick vigorously, one hand on the prick itself, one sliding back and forth on the sheath. The dog was panting but motionless. He appeared to be enjoying it immensely.

"Is he fully extended?" Arne asked.

"Yes, sir," Sven answered.

"Has the knot become full blown?" he wanted to know.

Sven shook his head. "Not completely," he admitted.

"Skin him back," the master ordered, and Sven pulled back the loose skin as far as it would go.

Nathalie shuddered at the sight. It was a hideous, immense weapon, slimy and scarlet.

"Now, my dear," Arne said, turning to the girl, "I am about to give you your first lesson. Listen well. I shall not repeat."

He made no move to touch her, and relief flooded through Nathalie as she nodded that she understood.

"The animal's cock has three distinct sections. Come here," he ordered, and taking her hand, he ran it up the length of the sack.

"This first section is never seen except for the small portion during the final thrusts. See how thick it is? Yes. Now, the knot which hangs a dog up is in the center section and when the dog is at rest, it looks not different than the surrounding areas. It contains far more erectile tissue, however, and this is why it becomes so much larger. Here, feel it. See how hard it is?"

He rubbed her fingers about the slimy, angry meat, and she shrank from the touch.

"Now, the last and the best part is the tip. If you will note, it looks pointed, like a dirk from the side, because it is blunt and flat. Feel it? No, here! Ahh, yes. Formidable, is it not?"

He was staring down at Nathalie's face, waiting for her answer, but she only looked up and glared. His wild preoccupation with dogs nauseated her. He was no more than an animal himself.

"This is dog, as nature intended him," Arne continued. "See how his prick points parallel to his belly? For our use, this will not do."

Releasing her hand, he allowed her to step back as he held out his hand to Sven. The man laid a long knife in the master's palm.

"Now," said Arne as his hand closed around the handle, "I am about to perform a little operation. It is practically bloodless."

He pulled the animal's sheath down over the prick as far as he could and then began stretching the sack away from the body until there appeared to be only a thin layer of stretched tissue connecting the sheath to the belly. With a quick slash, he severed coalesced membrane, then rubbed the sheath back and forth across the throbbing prick so rapidly that the dog barely cried out before he was again whining with passion.

"Take it, Sven," the master ordered, and Sven leaned down and sucked the stabbing tip of the dog's prick into his mouth.

Nathalie closed her eyes. Her loins were damp, the satin soaked clear through, and she ached with need even in the midst of nauseating disgust.

"It comes!" the master called, and he pushed Sven away so that he might see the cum spurt from the dog's spasming cock.

Spurting its seed deal across the table, the dog moaned out its release as Arne sighed with satisfaction.

"The wrapping," Sven said to his assistant, and Edvard handed over a long length of sheeting some half a foot wide.

Sven, in turn, handed the material over to Arne, who carefully began wrapping it about the dog's middle, trussing the hanging saber and scabbard up against the animal's belly.

Carefully tying the bandage off, he stepped back and surveyed his work, "Have you learned something this day?" he asked Nathalie.

Her glare was filled with hatred. "I have already learned what a beast of an animal you are," she hissed, "but then, I learned that several days ago!"

Arne Bjomson smiled. "Tomorrow, you may begin in his training," he told her. "You should be honored. That's quite a piece of prick for a woman to impale herself upon."

Shuddering, Nathalie turned and walked back to the kennel door. Without a word, she opened the door and stepped out into the courtyard. Then, she began to vomit.