Case History 2
"I dunno, Doctor," the pretty blonde sixteen-year-old said to me, "the thing is that I've started to feel really creepy about myself, and about this whole bag that I've gotten into. At the same time, the thing that I have on my mind isn't something that it's very easy to talk about.
The blonde in question was named Suzanne T. and she was a student at a high school where I was filling in for a friend of mine who worked there as the school psychologist and who happened to be sick at the time.
"Well, Suzanne," I said to the girl, "I can certainly understand her reluctance, since I don't think that I've ever had a patient who wasn't hesitant at first. After all, it isn't easy to open up the most intimate details of your life to someone who's a complete stranger, even if you know that he is a professional and only wants to help you."
"And unless I open up and spill the whole works there isn't much help that you can give me, right?"
"I'm afraid so. But one thing that you should bear in mind is that a lot of the things that people are most uptight and ashamed about are much more common than they think. Someone may be engaging in some form of unusual sexual behavior, for instance, and think that he or she must be the only person in the whole wide world who would do such a thing. But in fact, I have scores and scores of people coming to my office all the time with sexual problems which seem very offbeat to them but which are really pretty old hat to someone like myself who has spent his whole career studying human behavior."
The reason that I had suggested that what was on Suzanne's mind might be sexual was that I have found that sexual matters are (as a result of cultural conditioning, of course) the ones that most people are particularly uptight about. So that if someone is very hesitant to tell me about their problem, it's a reasonably safe bet that some violated sexual taboo enters into the picture at some point or the other.
In fact, I had hit the nail pretty well on the head in this particular case. As soon as I started to tell Suzanne about how seemingly exotic forms of sexual behavior occur more often than people think, I saw her give a very noticeable little sigh of relief.
"Take lesbianism, for instance," I said, trying to strike while the iron was hot, so to speak, "although many women who have sexual feelings for members of their own sex are often very ashamed of the fact, the truth of the matter is that according to people like Kinsey, such feelings and desires are much, much more widespread than most people imagine."
That was really a shot in the dark, since there was nothing about Suzanne that could have made me suspect that lesbianism was the thing that she had on her mind. But although I went wide of the mark as far as my specific suggestion was concerned, it did in fact cause her to open up and give me something more of an idea of what it was that was bothering her.
"It isn't anything like that, Doctor," she murmured. "It's a lot weirder than that, I'm afraid. That's just exactly what has me so terribly bugged. I fuck with animals."
"With animals?" I asked, showning no note of surprise at all in my voice. "What kind of animals?"
"Dogs and cats. Dogs mostly. It was my boyfriend Bart who got me into it, but now that he has, I have to admit that it's something that I can't possibly imagine giving up."
"Well," I said, "you certainly aren't the first young woman I've ever met who enjoyed sex with animals, and I doubt very much that you'll be the last one, either. But maybe you'd like to tell me some more about all of this. You say your boyfriend approves of all this?" "Yes."
"Does he like to watch?" "Yes."
"But you don't like the setup so much any more?"
"like I said, Doctor, I've started to feel really sort of creepy about myself, if you know what I mean. Really sort of guilty and unclean. I didn't feel that way at first, but it's something that's really been gaining on me recently."
"And you'd like me to see if I could do something to make you want less to have sex with animals?"
"That's about it."
"Well," I said, "in my experience, bestiality is often more a symptom of underlying emotional pressures than a primary ailment. When the underlying psychological tension in resolved-as it often can be-then the desire for animal sex usually diminishes or even vanishes completely."
"She gave another sigh of relief.
"So," I said, "knowing that, maybe you're a little bit more willing to fill me in on what's been going on in your life."
"I guess so," she said, and then she began her story....
I've known Bart for about a year now. The reason I'm starting with him is because without him, I'd have never gotten involved with animals. I'm not saying that so as to put most of the blame on him, or anything like that. It's just that that's the way things are.
I'm in the tenth grade, and Bart's a senior. That means that when we first met, I was a ninth grader and Bart was a junior.
Wow, you'd better believe that when an eleventh-grade boy shows some interest to her, a girl who's a freshman really stands up and pays attention. Her clit really stands up and pays attention too. I guess that boys mature more slowly than girls do, or something like that, because let me tell you, the average ninth-grade girl regards boys in her age group as real babies. I mean, that's the way they are. They're still just interested in sports and things like that, and the only things they do to girls is ride by them on bicycles and whistle at them or do dumb stuff like that so as to show what super grown-up studs they are. It's a real drag. As for girls-well, I think I was a bit interested in males even before I got my period, and after that, wow! But like I said, all the males I got a chance to hang around with were really infantile.
Then, Bart started paying attention to me, and the difference between him and the guys in my class was pretty much the same as the difference between night and day. He was suave, relaxed, and he knew what he wanted.
What he wanted was my pussy, and there was just no two ways about it.
It was of sort of two minds about that. On one hand, I really felt pretty horny much of the time, and just the thought of having some hard prick up my hole made it drool and dribble all over my panties. But I guess I found the idea of sex sort of frightening, too.
Bart was enough in tune with these feelings of mine to be able to compensate for them, and so all along he knew just how to calm me down and get me in the mood to go along with him.
The first time we fucked, he had taken me to the movies. His parents were out of town, and he suggested that I come over to his place for a drink of his father's liquor. I had a pretty good idea of what Bart had in mind, but I didn't want to think of myself as the kind of girl who just chickened out when the going got half-way serious.
So, I went over to his place, and though it's true that he went through the motions of offering me a drink, the truth of the matter was that there wasn't much drinking and was plenty of fondling. We were sitting on the sofa, and I'd hardly had a chance to sip my bourbon when I felt his hand on my right tit.
"Mmmmmm, nice," I whispered. I wasn't exactly sure if that was what I should be whispering, but at least I was telling the truth. It felt nice to have his hand on my tit like that.
"If you like it that way, maybe you'll think this is even better," he said with a smile as he slipped his hand under my sweater to cup my breast with. That meant that all there was between his hand and my titflesh was my rather thin bra, and the knowledge of that, as well as the pressure he was exerting with those masterful fingers of his, was enough to cause my nipples to swell out like crazy.
"Getting turned on, aren't you, kid," he said. It was pretty obvious that he could feel the swelling of my nipples through the bra-fabric.
"You'd better believe that I'm getting turned on," I said.
Saying that was pretty much like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Bart reached his other hand under my skirt and sort of cupped my crotch with it, pressing his fingers hard against my panties. The panties were already pretty wet, but they were getting wetter all the time as I felt the pressure of Bart's fingers.
He wasn't contented with feeling me up through my underclothes, though,' and he pulled my panties away from my soggy crotch. The cool air that caressed them was really pretty nice, but it didn't make me less excited.
With my panties out of the way, he was able to really get his fingers on my cunt, and he took every opportunity possible. He pressed them against my clit (that nearly made me come right then and there) my cuntlips, and my maidenhead.
"Still intact aren't you?" he said. "What do you mean?"
He explained by giving me a quick poke on the hymen. Not enough to break it-that was an honor that he was saving for his prick, I guess-but enough to make me very conscious of the membrane that he was referring to.
"Don't worry, kid," he said, "with me doing it, you won't feel a thing. Not for long, anyway."
He seemed to really take it for granted that we were going to fuck, and seeing as I had allowed him to pull my panties down and place his fingers on my cunt, I guess that that wasn't really such an unreasonable thing to think. On one hand, I sort of resented his taking my consent for granted like that, but on the other hand, that was just the kind of aggressive, "take-charge" attitude that I found so lacking in boys of my own age.
He pressed me back against the couch, then opened his fly and let his cock press out against the white fabric of his underpants. I really drooled at the sight of the thing making such a hard bulge.
"Wait until you see it," he said, noticing the look on my face. Then he pulled the underpants down, and the cock was able to flop out into freedom, expanding quickly to its full length.
Except for a really dumb sex education movie that they showed at school, I'd never seen a prick before, but one thing I knew right away on getting my first glance in at Bart's: being fucked was something that I was going to really enjoy. My cunt gave a little spasmodic contraction. It sensed that that hard thing was just exactly what it wanted and needed.
Bart had already gotten my sweater and bra off, and he was now working away like crazy on my tits, kneading and molding them, pulling on the nipples, and doing all those other things that a girl does to herself when she doesn't have a guy around.
What he was really interested in was that cunt of mine, though. He got on top of me, and positioned himself so that the tip of his prick was resting inside my hole. I gave a little shudder of anticipation, a shudder which, I guess, was composed of pretty much, equal parts of desire and fear.
He pressed the cock against my maidenhead, and I felt even more nervous. What if it really hurt? I mean, the thing felt sort of solid as he poked his prick-tip against it.
He didn't give me too much time to worry about the fact, though. I guess that Bart belongs to the category of people who rip bandages off fast, or just leap into cold swimming pools so as to get the initial shock over with. One moment, I felt his cock pressing against my hymen, and the next moment, he was IN!
Slam! He just ripped on into me, piercing me, impaling me, making me bleed, and his cock glided on in over the fast-flowing pussy juices and the blood, until he had me totally filled with the miracle of his rampant hardness.
He rested for just a second, so as to give my poor suffering cunt at least a bit of time to get adjusted. Then, he pulled back and started to pump.
At first, my cunt felt so incredibly tender and sensitive that I couldn't notice anything much else besides the pain. But as he worked his tool back and forth inside me, the pain began to be replaced by a really wonderful feeling of excitement, until I had forgotten all discomfort, and the only thing that I could think of was how wonderful it felt to have that hard rod slipping back and forth inside my cunt.
"like it, baby?" he asked, as he worked me with his rod.
"Mmmmmm," I said.
In ... out ... in ... out....
Nice-and-easy ... nice-and-easy ... nice-and-easy....
I was getting more and more turned on by this wonderful new sensation. It was all so amazing, having a man's hard tool in me like that, that I really hardly knew what to think. Of course, I didn't have to think, really, just feel. His prick did all the talking for him.
All the while, his hands were really giving my tits quite a work-out, squeezing, kneading and caressing them, while his prick continued to drive me straight up the wall with come-need.
"Uh! Uh! Uh!" I grunted in excitement as I felt the muscles in my back and thighs tense. I was getting ready to come, I knew that from the many times that I'd beaten off, but this time was going to be different. I was going to come with a guy coming inside me!
"A woman! I'm going to be a woman! He's making me a woman!" I kept repeating to myself as I felt the tension in my cunt increase with every thrust of that prick of his.
Buck! Buck! Buck! Buck!
I'd beaten off plenty of times before, but man, oh man, masturbation sure was never anything like this.
"So fine! So fucking find" I gasped.
"Don't worry, baby," he said, "I'll have you off in a minute. Just one little minute."
He was true to his word, too. It was hardly more than a minute before I felt him give the last few strokes that I knew would build me up to my come. Only four or five would be necessary, I knew that from the way my cunt felt.
One! Almost....
Two!
Three! "Just can't stand it Just can't!" Four! "Please...."
Five! And that was it! I felt my whole body sort of shudder off into my orgasm, till every nerve I had, every muscle, was working overtime to express the frantic female come-joy that was sweeping through me.
"AHHHHHHHH!" I sighed as I felt my cunt unwind itself in slam after slam. And as it clutched at his rod, the latter unloaded into me with gush after gush after gush....
Then, we were done, and lying there panting and gasping together.
"Well, baby," he asked me, "did fucking live up to your expectations?"
"Mmmmmm, what do you think?"
"I think you had a pretty good come."
"You'd better believe it."
There was a moment's silence, and then I said, "hell, Bart. I bet you're one of the best fuckers around."
"I do my best," he said, "the thing is that I like to liven things up a bit sometimes with stuff that's somewhat unusual. Stuff that not everyone goes for."
"Meaning?" I asked, my curiosity genuinely aroused.
"I'll tell you about it later, after we've gotten to know each other better."
"You don't want to tell me now?"
"I don't think you'd understand now," he said. "But I promise I'll tell you later."
Talk about a teasing remark. I mean, in the weeks that followed, I couldn't get myself to stop wondering what it was that Bart was talking about. And every time I asked him, he'd always say that it wasn't time yet for me to know. That he had to get to know me better.
As the weeks went by, with my fucking Bart regularly, I got to be more and more fond of him. Finally, after we had finished fucking, and were just lying on the sofa together, I asked him what his big secret was.
"After all," I said, "I think that there's enough feeling between us for you to feel that your secret was safe with me." And it was true that the reason I kept prying it out of him was not just curiosity, but the fact that I felt that if he really loved me, he should be willing to tell me whatever it was.
"Okay," he said, "I guess that you're right. I tell you what. Instead of telling you what it is, I'll show you. Get down on all fours.
I did what he told me, feeling all the more curious. After all, he'd fucked me that way several times before in the past, so that couldn't be his big, dark secret.
Then, I heard footsteps as if he were leaving the room. That made it all the odder, but I didn't turn my head to try and see what he was doing. If he was going to all this trouble to surprise me, I wasn't going to spoil things.
I heard his footsteps return, and then I felt something very cold and wet against my cunt. For a moment, I couldn't imagine what it could possibly be. Then a sniffing sound told me.
I glanced around and saw a great big boxer standing behind me, with a sleek brown coat and pointy ears.
"Suzie, meet K.O., " I heard Bart say with a touch of nervousness in his voice.
Before I had much of a chance to react, though, the big dog had already started licking my cunt, and that really changed the picture. Otherwise, I might have felt outraged (or pretended to myself that that was what I felt) at what my boyfriend had done. But the feeling of that soft, wet tongue on my cunt took care of my objections pretty fast.
Slurp! Slurp! Slurp! The tongue was sliding into just about every little female nook and cranny that I had, and you'd better believe that I was really grooving on it. Every time that tongue slid across my tingling labia or my pebble-hard little clit, I thought that I was going to be coming right then and there.
"How do you like it, baby?" I heard Bart ask.
I was too hot to even be able to speak any more. All I could do was give a long drawn-out sigh of approval which indicated about as clearly as anything else could just how turned on I was by the weird experience of having a big dog lick my twat.
I could feel K.O.'s breath on my cunt, of course, since his muzzle was right up close to me. But I could also feel Bart's breath on my left buttock. It was obvious that he had his face right up there next to the dog's so that he could witness every detail. He was able to see just how the slender, flexible tongue was sliding a back and forth over my labia and clit, how i even curled up into my hole on occasion, and how the big dog kept slurping and slurping am slurping as he sought to lick up every drop o; pussy fluid that he could possibly get.
"Uh! Uh! Uh!" I grunted. That dog was driving me straight out of my mind. I wanted to come, needed to come, just fucking well hod to come, but still the animal kept me there right on the edge of the orgasm that I needed so badly. Not that dogs understand technique in that sense, but that's just the way that things worked out.
Slurp! Slurp! Slurp!
I could hear the dog panting away in excitement, but on top of that I could hear some other heavy breathing and panting. I could guess that Bart was just fantastically turned on by the little spectacle that he had arranged, and that he was probably beating himself off.
I pressed my tits up against my chest with my right hand, while using my left hand to support my trembling body. I felt like a violin string that's being drawn too tight I had to snap some time, and I could hardly wait!
That, a final long slurp over my clit was enough to set me off. I hung fire for just a second longer, and then a whole tidal wave a female come-frenzy roared through me.
"Coming! Coming! I'm coming!" I gasped as I felt my pelvis buck and heave and shudder to the force of my wild fuck-spasms!
And still the dog licked and slurped, pulling his tongue back and forth, back and forth across my aching clit and my stinging labia!
"Whewwwwwww!" with a long sigh, I felt the final surges of my orgasm drain out of me, and I was surprised to find that I was still alive, though a bit dazed. It had been quite a ride.
I staggered to my feet and looked at Bart. He was standing there with his prick gradually going soft, and long strands of spunk trailing from the tip of it. He had obviously beaten himself off while watching me get tongued by the dog, and the smile on his face indicated just how much he had enjoyed it, too.
"So that's my secret," he said. "It really turns me on to see a chick make it with a dog."
"Well, don't think I'm not glad you decided to let me in on it finally," I said. I could hardly remember when my cunt had gotten such a first-class bang.
Bart drove me home, and I went up to my room to think about the weird experience that I had just been through.
When I had told Bart that I was glad that he had decided to share his secret with me by having his dog tongue me off, that was true in a way. But even as I said it, I began to feel a bit uneasy about what it was that I had just done. Once I was no longer at the peak of my passion, I was able to get a bit more perspective, and there was no way to get around the fact that having sex with a dog really seemed kind of sick.
On the other hand, I knew that Bart really dug it, and it seemed that if I was going to consider myself a good girlfriend, I should be willing to humor him in some of his quirks. After all, it isn't every tenth grader (I was in the tenth grade by now) who has a senior for a boyfriend. When other girls saw me out walking with Bart, they looked pretty envious.
I suspected that if I told Bart that I didn't want to have anything more to do with his dog, he would probably dump me in favor of some other chick. And that would leave me high and dry, with no prick to take care of my cunt, and no one to walk me home from school or take me out for pizza.
So, I decided to stick it out, and hope that maybe Bart would get to be so fond of me that he no longer found it necessary to get turned on by the sight of a dog pistoning my cunt.
The next date I had, we wound up at his place as usual. For some reason or the other, his parents are often not home, and that means that he has a chance to do anything he wants. I guess his parents figure that since he's a senior, they can trust him.
We started out with a couple of drinks (insofar as Bart's dad's liquor is concerned, they can't trust him, but they don't know that) and then Bart started to caress my tits and to feel up my cunt through my panties so as to get me all hot and bothered.
"You want it, baby?" he asked with a tone of voice which indicated that he knew perfectly well that after a bit of preliminary action from him, any girl would have to be out of her mind to not want a fuck.
"Uh huh," I said softly.
"Shall I get K.O.? "
I had forgotten all about the dog.
"Can't we skip the dog for tonight?"
"You don't want the dog?"
"It's just that I'd rather do it with you."
"You'll be getting plenty of action from me, don't worry about that," I heard him say. There was an edge of annoyance in his voice that indicated that he wasn't really all that prepared to accept this sort of uncooperativeness from me.
Then, after a pause, he said, "okay, we'll skip the dog tonight as long as you'll promise to do something else that I like."
"Okay," I said. I figured that he was talking about some unusual position that would involve the two of us.
To my surprise, he got up and walked out of the room. It wasn't long before he returned, carrying a great big tomcat.
"Suzie, I'd like you to meet Leo."
The big cat just stared at me lazily. It was one of those cats that looks like it was born to do nothing else but sleep in front of a fireplace all day.
"Bart...." I said reproachfully. It somehow didn't seem fair to me for him to promise not to insist on the dog, and then go and bring in a cat.
"I thought you said that you wanted to share in my private interest," he said, and everything in his tone of voice indicated that if I wasn't willing to go along with him, things were going to be all washed up between him and me.
"Okay, Bart, okay," I said. I'm really crazy about the guy, and I certainly didn't want to lose him. So I guess that I just didn't have any other choice but to play along with him.
What I couldn't figure out was what a cat could do, exactly. I mean, it's so small that I wouldn't think that it's tongue would be able to provide very much stimulation. Well, I was sure wrong on that one!
Bart asked me to lie on my back with my legs spread. He looked down at me with a smile of satisfaction on his face, and then got down on the floor next to me. He placed the cat between my legs, with its little triangular face right up next to my cunt.
"Pussy, meet pussy," Bart said.
Either cats are as turned on by a girl's smell as dogs are, or Leo had had a lot of experience and acquired a taste for cuntlapping, because he didn't hesitate for an instant. Instead, he moved his face up close and started lapping away like he was lapping up a bowl of cream.
The very first lick of his tongue told me just how fantastically much I was going to enjoy this. It's true that his tongue was very small compared to a dog's or a guy's, but it had that raspy, sandpaper quality. So every time it moved across my labia, I got about three times the amount of stimulation that a normal smooth type of tongue could have given me.
"See, baby," I heard Bart say, "if you'll just trust your Bart, all sorts of nice things are going to happen to you."
He could tell from the look of excitement on my face just how turned on I was by the action of the cat's tongue.
I expected he would beat off while watching the cat lick me, but I was wrong. This time, he put his hands on my tits and started to rub and caress them. He has a wonderful way with tits, and I could feel mine swell up with excitement, and feel the nipples turn from soft little things to hard nubs that just ached for more stimulation.
From time to time, he would put his head near my cunt so that he could watch the cat lick me there, but that wasn't absolutely indispensable for his enjoyment. Just knowing that I was being tongued-off by the animal was enough to turn him on, so part of the time he would either kiss me (French style, of course!) or lick my tits.
If his hands were great on my breasts, you'd better believe that his tongue was something else again! He left little trails of moisture all over the surface of them as he circled in closer and closer to the aching nipples. He would give these a quick little flick, and then move his tongue on out again. I was half nuts from frustration and desire, but somehow I was loving every minute of it.
I don't think that I've ever felt so totally fucked. I mean, here I was being licked on the cunt, kissed, and getting my tits felt up; all at the same time!
The best part had to be the licking though. The cat had a really wild sort of rhythm to his strokes as he licked.
Flick! Flick! Flick! His tongue danced back and forth across my labia, making my hips tremble and shudder with excitement.
Then, all of a sudden, I was coming. It was like a cloudburst. No real warning. I was very excited, knew that my come couldn't be far off, but I hadn't received any warning in the form of a final tensing of my muscles or final jangling of my nerves. One minute, I was writhing around in pre-come excitement and tension, and the next, everything was cutting loose all at once in a series of really powerful spasms that really ripped through me.
Wham! Wham! Wham! My hips bucked and heaved against the cat's face, but I could feel him keep his nose pressed hard against my tender woman skin. He was sort of riding with the punch, so to speak, and clearly was really enjoying the sensations caused by my cunt flesh shuddering against him.
Bart was still fondling my tits and kissing me, and as he felt me go off, he gave my tits and specially loving squeeze.
Man oh man, was I ever blasting!
Coming, coming, coming! One frantic cunt, blasting, heaving, shuddering, going irikl! One final heave, and I was done. Bart took his mouth from mine and smiled down at me.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?" he said.
It was just like the time before. I was still kind of on a plateau from the excitement of the fuck, but I could feel the tension ebbing out of me, and I knew that as it did, I would start to feel guilty.
"It was great, Bart," I said. I knew that was the answer that I was expected to give, and from the point of view of pure physical stimulation, there could be no doubt at all about the fact that it had been great.
Bart didn't give me very much time to think, though. His cock looked like a broom handle, and I imagine that it must have been almost aching with the tension that it was under. He had gotten fantastically turned on watching me get my cunt licked by the cat, and now he just had to get his rocks off.
Without even asking me if I wanted to fuck, he got on top of me and shoved his rod in.
I felt so exhausted from the come that I had just had that I would have really preferred to wait before going on to the next round, but one of the things that I do sort of like about Bart is the way that he's a really manly, take-charge kind of guy. If he wants something, he just takes it. That can be pretty irritating, of course, but at the same time, what girl would like a panty-waist for a boyfriend?
Besides, after the cuntlapping, my appetite was really whetted for some good hard prick. Tongue jobs are really nice, and I really enjoy them. But there's nothing for a woman that can match the feeling of having good hard prick-meat up her cunt.
And man, that's what I got! He was about as hard as any male could possibly get. His cock was almost painfully rigid and unyielding, but that made it all the more exciting. After all, men are supposed to be hard, just like women are supposed to be soft.
In! Out! In! Out! He started off pretty fast, too. I guess that he felt way too charged up to want to build up from a slow start. I didn't mind, though. Every one of those fast, hard strokes pulled my labia across my clit in the most delightful way, and it wasn't long before the two of us were equally charged up, equally in need of a come.
Buck! Buck! Buck!
I felt my hips give little counterthrusts, so as to increase the stimulation for both of us. I just couldn't believe how totally filled up and female I felt as he possessed and owned me with that mighty tool of his.
He was working away like crazy now, really slamming his rod into me, really giving me the old piston action, and I found my breath coming in frantic little gasps as I got closer and closer to my come.
Then, one final vigorous thrust, and I felt my pussy dissolve in a series of shuddering come-spasms, while his over-wound prick let its tension go in gush after gush after gush of boy-cream!
My parents are kind of strict about what time I'm supposed to be back from dates, so we didn't have time for anything else after that, but I felt so totally satisfied that that was fine by me.
Once again, though, as the actual physical excitement receded, all sorts of uncomfortable feelings started to come more and more to the fore. On the car ride home, I really had to force myself to chat with Bart. My natural inclination would have been to just sit morosely in the car. I didn't want to do that, because then he would have figured that I was dissatisfied with him. I don't think Bart is the kind of guy to take easily to that sort of silent criticism.
When I got in, I found my father in the living room. He's a nice guy, and the two of us have always gotten along well. He asked me how my date was, and when I told him that it had been fine, he said he was glad. That really made me feel pretty low, too. I mean here I have this kind, generous father, and what do I do? I go out and have sex with animals.
I went up to my room and cried for a while. I felt really down. I even decided that if necessary I was going to break up with Bart rather than keep on with this business with the animals. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy having my cunt lapped by a dog or a cat while it was actually going on. In fact, that was a really neat experience physically. But I just couldn't handle the emotions that went along with it, particularly the ones that hit me after each session.
The next day, though, when I saw Bart in school, I knew that I could never leave him. Something about him looked so masculine and self-assured. And when I had spent about a half hour in my first class, seeing what juvenile little monkeys the boys my own age were, I thought that I must have been crazy to have even contemplated giving Bart up. So he had this thing about wanting me to have sex with his pets. That was sort of offbeat, it was true, but at least all it had ever involved was a bit of cunt-lapping. He had never asked me to actually fuck with his dog, for instance.
Though I didn't know it, that was just over the horizon. That very weekend, when he and I had gone to a movie and then over to his house, he whistled and K.O., the big boxer, came bounding into the room.
To say that my feelings were ones of resignation wouldn't be entirely accurate. The thing is that although after each sex session with the animals I usually felt pretty depressed, before each one I usually felt so excited from the mere fact of being with Bart and knowing that I would be having sex with him soon that I almost looked forward to the animal tongue-action.
Except that this time tongue-action wasn't what Bart had in mind.
"Honey," he said, "I think that it's time to move on to phase two."
"Meaning?" I asked. I gave a little nervous shudder, though, since I had a pretty good idea of what phase two would involve.
"His prick," Bart said in a tone that sounded so final and determined that I knew there was no way I could talk him out of what he had in mind. And like I said, at that point I'm not so sure that I would have wanted to talk him out of it.
"How do you want me to do this?" I asked. "Get on your hands and knees, and he'll take care of the rest," Bart said.
I did as I was told, and it was only a second or two before I felt the soft paws of the dog resting on my ass. Then the paws moved up to my shoulder-blades as K.O. got in closer so that he could ram his dog-prick into my cunt.
The idea of having a dog's penis inside me sort of disgusted me, but at the same time, it really kind of turned me on, too.
I didn't have long to wait to find out whether I'd actually enjoy fucking with the dog, though, because K.O. wasted no time in slipping his cock on into me.
He did it very expertly, and the ease with which he found my hole made me suspect that I was far from the first girl that K.O. had ever done this with. That wasn't too surprising, though. If having a chance to watch a girl have sex with a dog was as important to Bart as he indicated, there was every reason to suppose that just about every girlfriend that he .had ever had had gone through this too.
In the prick went, and then out again. In-and-out. In-and-out.
I had to admit that the long, thin rod really did feel pretty nice inside me. My cunt was contracting spasmodically around it as it slid back and forth on my fast flowing pussy-juices. I'm a pretty wet female anyway, and I was really lubricating up to beat the band this time.
And just like the time before with the cat, Bart came around and started to fondle my tits.
This time, though, they were hanging heavily from my body, and that gave him all sorts of other things that he could do with them. He pressed them up against my chest and let them drop, he made them swing from side to side, he tweaked and rubbed the nipples, and he did about a zillion other things, all of which really got my breasts charged up like crazy. The nubs were throbbing with excitement, and I felt just about as charged up above the waist as I did below.
That's saying .quite a lot, too, because I was really going almost out of my mind with excitement at the sensations that the big dog was causing to my cunt. The rhythm that he had was totally different from Bart's, and though Bart is the only guy I've ever fucked with, I guessed that the way in which the dog fucked as probably totally different from the way in which any guy would fuck. There was something almost mechanical about it, about the evenness of it. I guess that the reason for that is that dogs just fuck on instinct, and all that instinct has to take care of is giving the rod enough stimulation for it to be willing to spew its load up into some bitch's cunt.
That just made it sort of more exciting for me, though. Even though after one of these canine fucks I don't feel so good about it, during one, the idea that I'm letting a dog's prick in me to please my boyfriend really kind of turns me on for some reason.
Buck! Buck! Buck! Buck!
I felt my cunt get more and more frantic, felt my body wind tighter and tighter, get more and more excited....
"Come! Make me come! Make me come!" I gasped to the dog, as if he could understand me.
He just kept pounding away inside me, but that was good enough. Just a few more strokes, and then all of a sudden, I felt his prick tremble inside of me, felt the jism spatter up into my most intimate feminine recesses.
That was more than enough to get me off, and so my cunt started to really clutch at the animal's penis while my hips trembled and shuddered with the agonizing ecstasy of my orgasm!
"OHHHHHH!" I sighed as I felt the spasms leave me. It had been a really first class fuck, and if I could go by previous experience, it was going to be followed by another one just as nice, this time from Bart!
I had it right on the money there. The glitter in his eyes and the furious stiffness of his cock told me just what it was that he wanted. And I was more than happy to give it to him.
One thing about Bart. His sexual tastes may be a bit offbeat, but there's nothing at all unimaginative about them.
"This time, baby," he said, "let's try something different. Hold your knees together, and I'll give you a fuck like you've never had before."
"You're going to fuck me while I've got my knees together?" I asked. "How?"
"Just do like I say, and you'll find out, won't you."
There was no arguing with that kind of logic.
I lay on my back with my knees pressed tightly together, and Bart got on top of me like he was going to give me a regular fuck, but with his knees on the outside of mine.
He had his cock in his hand, and he used the hand to guide his tool between my legs. Because the flesh of the thighs is very soft, Bart's cock had no difficulty at all in pushing it to one side. The entrance to the cunt was another matter, though. The labia were pressed tightly together there by the legs, and that meant that he really had to work his cock into me slowly. That turned me on like crazy, too, since my ultra-sensitive cuntlips were pressed between my thighs and his cock.
As for my cunt itself, that didn't feel all that tight on his penis. I guess that because it's up inside the hips, it doesn't make much difference to it what kind of position the legs are in.
Bart waited for a moment before doing anything, so I could savor the pressure on my labia. Then, he started to work his prick back and forth inside me.
It was really interesting to compare the action I was getting from him with the action I had gotten from K.O. The dog, like I said, started off fast and kept up the same tempo in an almost mechanical sort of fashion. Bart began slowly, and then increased the speed bit by bit as he worked me up to my come.
In ... out ... in ... out....
That feeling of prick sliding in and out inside me was just too much. I was making little purring noises now as I felt my clit get the maximom amount of stimulation imaginable. It was really confined down there with my labia and thighs, and it was loving every second of the fuck.
In! Out! In! Out! The tempo was getting a lot faster now, and there was something more determined about the thrusts. There were little beads of sweat standing out on his forehead, and the look in his eyes told me just how furiously excited he was.
Cock! Cunt! Cock! Cunt!
Almost there ... almost ... almost....
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Then ... I ... was ... coming!
And he was coming too, shooting a stream of warm man cream up into me.
Spurt! Spurt! Spurt! It was amazing how much of the stuff he had in his balls.
A final little tremble, and the fuck was over, and the two of us were lying there gasping and panting for breath.
Bart pulled out, and then gave a glance in the direction of K.O. He thought for a moment, and then said, "no I expect you'd enjoy it more some other time."
"What?"
"You'll find out."
And so I did, the very next evening. What Bart had had in mind was for me to suck the dog's prick. The reason he had decided to wait on it was because he wanted to introduce me to the art of blowing dogs under the best possible circumstances. And he figured that since K.O. had already had one come, he wouldn't have enough spunk in his balls for the second shot for me to really appreciate just what a nice thing sucking dog-prick really is.
That's what he told me, at any rate. But now the dog was fresh, and there wasn't a reason in the world that I shouldn't have a taste of it.
My feelings about that were mixed, like they were about every other aspect of the animal sex which I had engaged in. But since Bart wanted me to suck K.O.'s prick, I was perfectly willing to go along with it.
I knelt next to the dog, and Bart got down on the floor so that he could get a good view. The dog's tool was still inside its sheath, and the first order of business for me was to get it out.
I took hold of the furry container had squeezed. K.O. clearly liked that, because I was rewarded with the sight of a little pink tip appearing at the end of the cock-sheath. That was his penis, starting to come out into the open.
I gave the pink spot a little flick with my tongue, and more of the penis glided into view. That gave me more to work with, and a few more flicks of the tongue soon had it almost all the way out.
Even though I had had all this sex with the big boxer, this was really about the first chance that I had ever had to get a really good look at his prick. I noticed how red it was, how long, how thin, and how enormously hard.
I ran my tongue up and down the length of it, and I heard the dog's breathing get a bit heavier and more labored. Then, I gave a little series of kisses up and down the entire length of the shaft.
A sharp bark indicated to me just how excited the dog was. He was standing very still, but I could see his leg-muscles tremble.
I slipped my mouth over the penis and began to suck on it. I had to admit that the thing really did feel good there between my lips. I have a very sensitive mouth, and I suppose that that's one reason that I get such a charge out of kissing.
I moved my lips up and down the length of the penis, and then all of a sudden, I felt the cock start to move.
I guess because a dog's instincts are all about regular fucking, and don't include anything on oral sex, something in K.O. must have told him that since he felt a pressure on his rod, he should start moving it back and forth. And that's exactly what he was doing. Fucking my mouth.
I had no objections, and decided to jus relax and let him do the work if that was what he really wanted. And to tell the truth, it was kind of an interesting new experience to be fucked in the mouth like that.
Back and forth he went, while I caressed his balls with my hands. Without even thinking of it, I started to feel up my cunt, worming my fingers into my hole and pulling on my labia. I felt good below the waist, I felt good in the mouth ... I felt pretty good and excited everywhere.
Suddenly, I felt the dog's cock give an extra little stiffening (despite the fact that it was already tremendously hard), and then it was firing its load into my mouth.
I pressed my fingers against my clit as I felt the dog cream gush into my throat. And that was where a lot if it was going, too, it was shot out of the rod with such intensity.
I kept right on sucking as I felt the penis quiver between my lips and as I felt my own cunt dissolve into a wild display of fuck fireworks.
A glance in the direction of Bart told me that he was having just as much fun as everyone else. His cock was gripped firmly in his right hand, and was spewing a big load of sperm onto the floor.
After the dog had finished squirting, I slipped my lips off of his rod. Then, I sloshed the sperm around in my mouth a bit. It was really sort of neat to have my mouth filled with the stuff like that, and I'm not exaggerating when I use a word like "filled". Then, I gulped it all down in one big swallow. That was nice too, but already, my excitement had ebbed away to the point that there was a slight feeling of disgust on my part, too.
Anyway, doctor, that's how things have been going on up to now, and I really don't have any way of knowing what it is that I really want. I certainly don't want to lose Bart, but on the other hand, I sometimes really feel pretty awful about the fact that I have sex with animals. And one of the things that makes me feel particularly bad is the fact that while I'm having it, I actually enjoy it.
Adolescence is a confusing and difficult time for human beings, and Suzanne T.'s case well illustrates some of the confusion and uncer-tanity that has to be resolved if the individual is to grow up into a mature, contented adult.
Perhaps strongest of all the adolescent's desires (except perhaps for the newly awakened sexual ones) is the wish to be through with adolescence. "I'm a woman!" Suzanne T. said to herself during her first sexual experience, and perhaps the identical phrase is flashing through the minds of countless girls her age as the., reader peruses this phrase. Sex is, of course, the most potent symbol of adulthood that there is, and for this reason, is a source of the most intense concern and interest to the developing girl, or boy. Among mature adults, sex is a very satisfying extension of the emotions. For the adolescent, it is much more an end in itself. A badge of adulthood.
Suzanne T. correctly remarked that girls mature faster than boys, and her impatience with males of her own age is something that we shall see in many of the cases that follow. It is natural enough for her to be attracted to an older male, but this attraction is not without danger.
The danger in question has nothing to do with loss of virginity, or anything like that. It would be a very antiquated psychologist indeed who would condemn pre-marital sex partners. Rather, the threat lies elsewhere, in the fact that during adolescence, the ego is being molded into its final shape. The individual is insecure, and willing to follow the lead of another who seems more confident. The trouble is that if the other person makes unreasonable demands, and the adolescent acquiesces, he or she make come to take submission as a way of life, and have difficulty ever learning to stand up for him or herself. The ego is never able to reach its proper development.
This is very clear in the case of Suzanne T. Bart is an insecure, neurotic person, whose very insecurity is betrayed by his need to compel young girls to engage in acts that they do not really like. A teenager like Suzanne lacked the confidence to be able to put him in proper perspective and see him for what he is, and instead accepted him as a balanced, masculine individual. She felt that her will was less important than his, and so she sublimated it to his. If he wanted her to have sex with dogs, she would have sex with dogs. Partly because she was afraid of losing him (losing the "adult" sexual relationship that marked her as grown up in her own eyes), partly because she really felt that by being older and more experienced, he must be right. Passivity is, of course, something that our culture tends to inculcate in females, and the wrong set of circumstances can lead to it becoming very marked.
I had to be very careful about revealing this diagnosis to Suzanne, since the role that she had assumed would have almost automatically led her to a furious defense of Bart and a probable refusal to undergo the therapy that I felt was essential for her ultimate happiness. Bit by bit, though, I was able to get her to face up to the fact that there was something that she found fundamentally unpleasant about the idea of having sex with animals. There is nothing wrong with a girl engaging in bestial relations if they are something that she feels comfortable with, but it seemed obvious to me from Suzanne T.'s account that she was not comfortable with them.
From there, in the sessions that followed, I was able to lead her to a gradual acceptance of the fact that she was an autonomous person whose desires ought to count for something. Why, I asked her in effect, engage in an activity which causes you a great deal of guilt?
Her answer to this was, of course, that Bart wanted her to. This was the crux of the whole matter. Getting her to accept the fact that there was no reason that Bart's desires had to be given precedence over hers. Why shouldn't Bart worry about how she felt?
She was very stubborn on this point, but the therapy was helped in part by the fickleness of youth. Young people fall in and out of love very quickly, and another senior in her school caught her eye. She remained loyal to Bart for quite a while, but her growing awareness that he was not, in fact, the only boy in the world, made it more easy to accept the idea that his word should not necessarily be law.
The whole process was very long and difficult, but at the end of a year of therapy, her self-confidence had increased to the point that she was willing to tell Bart that she was only interested in maintaining the relationship if he stop insisting that she have sex with his pets. He refused, and she left him. It was not long before she took up with another boy (not the one who had first attracted her attention from Bart, by the way), and this boy turned out to be much more willing than Bart had been to respect her feelings and wishes. Therapy had achieved its goal, which had not been to stop the bestiality as such, but to bring her to a clearer understanding of her own importance as a person.