Chapter 8
The sheikh's bodyguard was mute, but he was neither deaf nor stupid. His immense size was partly a byproduct of his former sheikh's castrating him for wooing a girl above his class. The huge man stood at the outer edge of the knot of milling, flogging, rampaging Arabs and listened to the discussion between Ben and the sheik.
"Our cousin Gamal tells me you have a recipe for the Zionist concubine," the sheikh observed. "I was prepared to buy her. Sheikh Anwar el'Urabi "has some interesting coursing hounds. I believe he might change his demands for my larger Citroen if I offered him the fair-skinned girl."
Ben watched the slowing action around Sharon's frothing, twisting, desperately hunching body. He rubbed the bandaged wound on his left wrist. One of the afternoon sentries at the kibbutz had been more alert than Sharon. "I am not completely decided, esteemed cousin. I begin to believe she knows nothing about the Jewish outpost's defenses. Still . . . "
The sheikh drew cigarettes and a polished Zippo from his caftan. "You worked with her father against the Germans. Will he trade her for their village, or does the Haganah feel it is too important?"
"He is a strange man," Ben said slowly. "He spoke often of her and her mother, but he possesses no fear for himself." He paused, then added, "you should keep the woman away from her. Neither of us profits if she dies."
"You will know in a few days?" the sheikh asked. When Ben nodded, the sheikh gestured to the mute eunuch. The sheikh turned and walked away from the dissolving group of males. The women still stood respectfully away from Sharon. "A good hunt today, but I am afraid I will have to pen Nefertiti," he said.
"Until you speak with el'Urabi." Ben stood beside his cousin and stared out at the desert. The military commander knew his cousin took his dog breeding seriously. Ben rubbed his arm again and wished for the simplicity of war against the Germans. The sheikh's bodyguard waited for the last nomad to finish with Sharon, then carried her to the truck.
Chaim Gavno whispered his plan to David ben
Ari, the youngest of the native-born Israelis.
Chaim Gavno whispered his plan to David ben Ari, the youngest of the native-born Israelis. Chaim knew without asking that Major Weiss wouldn't allow anyone to leave the kibbutz to search for Sharon. David had come to relieve Chaim at the northeast corner of the compound, near the tractor shed. Half the population of the kibbutz was still awake, discussing the murder of two sentries that afternoon.
"Look, I won't be caught," Chaim hissed eagerly. "I can move anywhere in disguise-that's why the major uses me as his courier. I think they took her away from Beersheba, somewhere over near the Jordan. All you have to do is let me go out...you don't even have to watch. Just look the other way for two minutes, that's all I ask."
David looked at Chaim uncertainly, then nodded. He fumbled under his shirt and pulled out a tiny, flat automatic. "Here-it's not much, but you might need it."
Chaim's lips pulled back in a tigerish grin. He tugged a huge revolver from his sleeve. The lanyard tightened, jerking the cloth tight on a line from his shoulder to his wrist. "Keep your popgun, David...I stole this from the Englishman, the one who's always drunk." He clasped David's shoulder and scudded off into the night.
The hard slats of the third-class bunk shifted uncomfortably under Sharon, but it didn't matter.
Her family was going to Israel! Every mile the ancient liner steamed brought her closer to the storied land. She tossed in her sleep, trying to recapture the dream she'd been having. Yes, Canaan, the promised, the original one-and-only land of milk and honey. A strip of yellow on a map, up against the blue of the Mediterranean, dotted with sprinkles of cities and towns . . . in her dream, even the buildings and the trees were yellow, but you could look from the River Jordan to the Mediterranean in a single glance. She rolled over.
A growl and the snap of closing teeth jolted her awake. Sharon opened her eyes. There were no stars in the cabin . . . no portholes, either. She shook her head. She touched something warm and fuzzy. Another growl, menacing, with a yelp at the end of it brought her back to the present.
Or what she could find of it. Everything after the huge man had lifted her onto the sheik's prick was blank. Her whole body ached. She felt the sticky sides of a wound in her thigh tear open. Her left nipple was on fire, throbbing like an infected cuticle. Why was she riding a truck full of dogs? A wet nose snuffled at her crotch. Sharon jerked her legs shut. The dog weaved, his legs as well adapted as a sailor's and sniffed beneath a smaller dog's tail. Again the growl and the snap. The little female hound spun around, staying on her side. She wasn't going to allow any advances from the half-dozen other animals in the truck, but still Nefertiti refused to rise from her long-legged sprawl.
Sharon sat up. A massive shadow against the tailgate stirred. She looked from the eunuch to the dogs. Sharon tentatively reached to stroke one animal's muzzle. The dog lowered its narrow head. The tufted ears dragged onto the floorboards. Sharon stroked the flat top of the head. There was almost no rise to the skull at all. The dogs looked like greyhounds, but the odd patches of long hair were like nothing she'd ever seen before. Sharon's innocent curiosity was aroused. "Yes, good doggy, nice dog," she cooed. Another long, large-nosed muzzle pressed up under her hand. The dog who'd been molesting the bitch, Nefertiti, walked over to her. Sharon reached to pet him with her other hand.
The beasts were long-legged, tall, with deep, narrow chests and wide, furry feet, as if they wore slippers. The pale starlight didn't shine brightly enough for Sharon to tell their colors, but the tones of their coats weren't all the same. The standing dog licked her face.
Sharon pulled back. She wiped her cheek with her hand. It hurt her to move, but the affectionate response of the dogs was worth it. "Hey, there, silly," she said, stroking the big male's dangling ear. The reclining bitch wagged her tail and scooted forward on her elbows. Sharon leaned to touch Nefertiti, ignoring the sore, overstretched feeling in her loins. She accepted the sticky spots on her skin as semen without thinking about them. A vague, unfocused feeling at the back of her mind told her not to try to remember.
The huge shadow moved from the tailgate. The sheik's bodyguard hissed through his teeth in short, soothing rhythms. Nefertiti stood, her hindquarters rising high. She stretched her forepaws out and yawned.
Sharon shrank back from the big man. She leaned away as he stooped down and petted the dog familiarly. His big hands ruffled the bitch's long ears, swatted her deep hest, and scratched the base of her spine. He turned his face toward Sharon and smiled.
The starlight on his teeth, or perhaps the deep shadow around his eyes, scared Sharon. She lifted herself on her palms and scooted back. She brushed two or three dogs aside and huddled against the sides of the ancient stake bed truck. The wood creaked with the jolts of the dirt road.
Nefertiti growled, but the big man hissed and pulled his hand away from the base of her tail. He stroked her head again with his other hand. The bitch sniffed up at it.
Sharon's heart started booming in her chest. It took her a second to realize that the Arab had broken custom. He held his right hand away from the dog, while every Arab used the left hand only for ass wiping. Sharon curled herself into a tight ball. She hugged her knees against her chest.
The bodyguard wasn't smiling now. He stepped over a dog's back. His face was in shadow, but Sharon could feel his eyes on her. For the hundredth time she wished for clothes to cover her nakedness. He gestured, flipping his right hand sharply upward. Feeling like a puppet under the implied threat of the eunuch's huge size, Sharon stood. He made a stirring motion. She turned around.
His big hand invaded her crotch. Sharon felt him rub his fingers up and down, wiping each one along the abused line from her vagina to her rectum. The hot air dried the fluid his fingers deposited on her crotch. A chill went through her body, starting at her cunt-mouth and rising along her spine. Sharon realized his intention, and a stronger, scarier chill went from the nape of her neck to her thighs.
Don't believe that eunuchs don't have sex lives. Even without balls, with the nerve cords that trigger erection severed, a castrated male has desires. They may be less intense, the frequency and opportunity-may be lower, but everyone has a sexual urge of some kind. The sheik's bodyguard was a specialist in voyeurism, and a jaded, over-trained specialist at that. Now he had the time and the chance to take advantage of Sharon. With a single push of his hand against her shoulder blades, the eunuch knocked Sharon to the floor of the truck.
The young male dog who's been pestering Nefertiti was confused. He sniffed the Saluki bitch again. She growled. Without waiting for the snap, the hound swung his head to Sharon's buttocks. The cold black pad of his nose leather whuffed up and down between her cheeks.
The cool touch felt good. Sharon ached inside. Cold dog nose on her sunburned ass actually felt pleasant! She felt guiltier than she had when the Arabs had force-fucked her. Then, at least, there was pain or threats or violence, or all three. Now, the unknowing dog was soothing her seared skin.
The long, wet slap of his tongue against her crack sent a shiver of frightening sensuality down her spine.
The dog growled, as he would growl at any unfamiliar thing. The pissy, musky, come-drenched scent of Sharon's cunt wasn't right, but the pheromones of bitch-heat overlay the human odors. He sniffed again.
Sharon groaned. She didn't dare move. The eunuch still carried that long Mauser slung across his back. Even without the gun, she wouldn't stand a chance if she tried to resist him or anything he wanted her to do. Her inner labia cooled, then heated with a fresh gush of pussyjuice. The dog's olfactory inspection of her loins made her pussy petals ripple like a pennant in the breeze. With a hungry little throb, her clitty started erecting.
The other dogs had become watchful. Oddities upset them, and this female human on all fours in their midst was an extreme oddity. One of the other females sniffed at Sharon's face. A male dog circled behind her. The one at her crotch stopped sniffing and snarled, a sound that made chills break out all over Sharon. His voice undulated, rising and falling in a horrible, almost musical series of notes.
Sharon felt the other dog slink away. She looked around. She was the center of all the dogs' attention, just as she'd been the center of.. . .
The black curtain in her mind snapped down. She didn't want the memory. Sharon tried to concentrate on the hounds. One sat in front of her, his feet tucked tidily together. He looked as proud and regal as an Egyptian cat. He opened his mouth. Inch upon inch of gleaming ivory fangs glistened at her, damming up the sides of his lolling tongue.
A hairy paw touched her ass-cheek. Sharon quivered. The dog behind her had decided. She could imagine what was happening from looking at the belly of the dog in front of her. A long blunt thing was growing under the dog's belly. For a flashing second Sharon wondered why the dogs didn't all attack her, like.. . .
Claws raked along her ribs. Sharon grunted. She stiffened her arms. The deep bony chest of the dog pressed against her spine. He raised himself on his elbows. She felt a jerking motion start in the dog's body. Sharon closed her eyes tight, trying to will herself into invisible safety. If the dog couldn't see her or smell her, then he would leave her alone. She could even escape from the back of the open truck!
A dagger of pain stabbed at her thigh. The dog hunched himself higher. A hot drop of saliva fell on her back, intensifying the sunburned pain of her skin. The dog's forepaws shifted, digging into the sides of her tits. The sore nipple throbbed again, hotter and harder. It felt like a lump of lit charcoal blazing into her tit.
But the second stab of the dog's prick lanced all other sensation from her mind. Sharon gasped. The pointed end of the dog's prick jabbed into her cunt like a spear. The half-wet walls of her cunt sleeve rebelled, blasted with pain.
His prick slipped out again. Sharon let her elbows collapse. She lumped down until her tits hit the bed of the truck. The dog's elbows ground into her back below her shoulder blades. His paws tangled in her long hair. The jerky motions of his hunching spine made his paws tug at her hair. Sharon moaned low, anticipating the next thrust of the dog's cock.
But the dog's stiff, pointed prick didn't find her vagina again for a while. His strokes accelerated, guided by blind instinct. The bony tip of his cock stabbed again and again at the puffy sides of her cuntlips. Sharon felt the tender tissues swelling up, bruised under the impact. She squirmed with the combination of fear and arousal. Now that she was hurting, now that there was no way to get away from the drooling hound, the heat began to grow in her loins.
Over and over the dog's cock jabbed against every wrong part of her cunt. Sharon didn't know how the animal could stand it. The battering pain when his cock spear stabbed her pubic bone was enough to make her jerk like a spastic puppet. When his prick grazed across the tip of her clitty, the shock was so intense that Sharon thought her head would explode. Every stroke of his weapon against her flesh seemed to light a fresh fire in her loins, and the heat from the blazes fanned through her like lightning.
With a harsh, deep jab, the end of the dog dick found her slit again. Sharon winced. Her cuntwalls were wetter now, greased with juice that the brutal battering of her clit had released. The hard-driving spike of the dog's penis slipped halfway to her womb, and the sleek hairs of his belly rubbed like satin on her asscheeks. Sharon pushed her ass back at him. She heard the hissing approval of the mute giant who watched her. She hoped it looked like she was trying to buck the dog off.
But now that the dog prick pistoned so fervently back and forth in her cunt, that was the last thing Sharon wanted. She moved back and forth in time to the hound's powerful prick thrusts. He fucked into her like a machine. His cock drove in hard, then pulled back just as fast. Sharon's cuntwalls vibrated to the hearty strokes. She felt her vagina loosen up, then start working around the dog's cock. With a mixture of abased horror and cuntal glee, Sharon let her cunt clamp down on the dog's out-strokes, then loosen to allow more of that powerful spear into her belly.
The tip blasted past her womb. Sharon marveled at the length and speed of the dog's strokes. She'd never felt anything move so fast and so hard in her life, and it seemed like it would never stop. She slowly managed to raise herself on her hands again. Her tits jiggled back and forth, two pudding-like blurs hanging full and heavy beneath her chest. The urgency of her own feelings and the instinctive swiftness of the plunging prick made her forget about all pain, all shame, everything but the pistoning length of skinny dog cock in her guts.
The tip of his prick was reaching unknown regions. Sharon gasped. She felt her internal organs moving out of the way of the hunching dog's horrendously hard prick. The upper top side of the cockshaft dragged back and forth on her cervix so fast that the numb, nerveless little organ made her guts churn. Sharon felt the heavy, dull feeling of her womb moving back and forth, lagging a fraction of a stroke behind the pounding beat of the dog's prick.
Something hard banged against the base of her pussy. Sharon gasped. She felt the hairs of his cock sheath stabbing into her inner labia, but they didn't hit until that heavy mass had already beaten against her cunt-mouth. With a horrible sinking feeling in her belly, she remembered watching dogs fuck.
Now the hard knob battered her cunt ring with every stroke. Sharon moaned. She was lost. The width of that mass alone was too much for her cunt. The big ball at the middle of the dog's cock reached from her asshole to her clit. Shocks like little jolts of lightning already flashed from her come trigger when the bulbous knob struck her crotch.
The dog growled. The low, thrumming vibration of his voice went through Sharon like light through a window. He sounded demanding. She tried to force her cuntal sphincter open.
The slack in her cunt ring let the dog's cock slap around, bouncing from side to side. Sharon's cunt sucked air then let it out. The air dried some of the lube from her cuntwalls. The repeated thrusts of dog cock tore at the tender lining of her cuntwalls. Sharon arched her back. She gave the dog the clearest possible angle at her cunt. She bore down with every ounce of strength in her body.
With a sickening pop, the bulbous bulge stretched her cunt-mouth wider than a fist could have. The knot in the middle of the dog's cock was bigger than a baseball, and now it was locked inside her cunt. Sharon felt the mass slide higher into her cunt. The bony point of his cock was stabbing deep, deep inside her. She imagined the spear point of his prick puncturing her stomach, her lungs, every organ in her body. Sharon felt sick, but the dog kept fucking heartily into her cunt
The huge width and depth of his knob was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to Sharon. She felt the whole center of her pelvis open around it, then close down as it withdrew. The backside of the knob was too big to leave the spasming mouth of her pussy. Sharon felt it tug her cunt-ring outward. It felt bigger than her head. It pulled back against the inside of her sphincter, then rebounded to plunge deeper again. She tried to bear down, to shove it out, but she didn't have the strength.
Sharon surrendered. There was no way she could get that huge dog cock out of her cunt. Even as she tried to push it out, it was thrusting into her hole again. The furious friction of the dog's superheated strokes dragged her clitty halfway into her hole. The sharp, stiff hairs and the fleshy heat of his cock sheath attached her clit. It was like needles and tongues simultaneously assaulting the sensitive nubbin. Sharon felt the grandmother of all orgasms building up inside her. She knew her body was tense enough to snap like a spring. With her loins tensing, readying themselves for the explosion, Sharon tried to hold off. The sheer power of the impending come threatened to burn her nerves out like overloaded wires.
Sharon sobbed. She twitched. Her ass kept moving, circling against the pile driver strokes of the dog's cock. She wondered if the beast would ever come. His pulsing thrusts had never speeded or slackened since his cock had first jabbed into her cunt. She held her breath. Sharon wanted the release, and feared it.
The dog's claws scrabbled on her ribs. The washboard thrumming of her chest under the attack of his forepaws set up more hot vibrations in her nerves. Sharon suddenly became aware of her tits again. The swinging, swaying, jiggling motions of the mounds had forced blood into the tips. Her nipples were as engorged as the dog's bloated prick. Centrifugal force had filled the hot tips until they felt ready to burst.
Every part of her body was ready. Sharon wanted to end it. She wished she could stop, fall out from under the dog, disappear in a puff of smoke. Anything that would unwind the tension in her nerves and muscles would cure her. She was scared to death of coming.
The beat of the dog's cock changed. Even though it had moved with blinding speed since it had shoved into her slit, it sped up. Sharon couldn't tell now whether the dog was fucking in or pulling back. Her cunt couldn't keep up with the motions. A constant blur of sensation filled her hole. Her cunt ring stretched outward and plunged back in before she could distinguish the feelings. Her clitty was a white-hot blaze of excitement. It quivered like a tuning fork. A constant stream of sensuality roared through her. A final heavy blast of the dog's surging cock knocked her to the bed of the truck. Sharon felt her cuntwalls implode.
The dog's prick jerked steadily back and forth in her cunt. The hot wash of viscous fluid gushing around the huge knob told her that the dog was coming. Sharon's own orgasm picked her up and slammed her down. She didn't care if the dog was coming or if a cannon was going off in her cunt. She lay on her face. Sharon turned blue from lack of air. Her every muscle was paralyzed with the gut-wrenching strength of her orgasm. She wished she could black out. The rushing, roaring waves of her come covered her. They went on and on. She was utterly lost in the sensations inside and outside her body.
Sharon's flesh was glowing. She was the cascade of colors in her mind. She knew she was still in the truck, still full of the dog's slowing cock, but she was also far away. Sharon heard things. She saw things. She felt and touched and smelled things that she'd forgotten existed, and other things that she'd had no idea of, ever. Her body was a rippling pool and a roaring ocean and a floating cloud of unearthly beauty. She didn't mind that the spent dog was whimpering, trying to pull his trapped prick from her cunt. She didn't care that the eunuch had opened his robes. A reeking, deep-yellow shower of piss that scalded down onto her head and shoulders was just another fragment of the whole wonderful excess of her orgasm. Sharon lay smiling on the floor of the truck, sadly wishing she didn't have to go back into her bruised body. A string of thoughts surfaced like pearls in her mind.
Tm ruined. Completely. Now.
The eunuch turned away, shaking his prick. His robes fell back around him. He clambered onto the cab of the truck, opened the door, and disappeared. Sharon let a bubble of pleased laughter well up from the center of her being.