Case History 4
Penny W. was a pretty fourteen year-old who came to see me at a time when I was working one night a week at a low-cost clinic. Her parents could certainly have afforded private therapy, but she was afraid to tell her parents what her problem was. Instead, she came to the clinic on her own, and paid the minimal charges with money that she made from baby-sitting.
She fidgeted nervously in her chair, and it was obvious that she was torn between the desire to get some help for her problem, and the desire to leave at once before she had to tell anyone what it was that had been bothering her.
"I don't know, Doctor," she said, eyeing the door she had just entered by. "I'm afraid that maybe I'm wasting your time. I mean, there are probably all sorts of people a lot worse off than I am who need your services...."
"Well," I said, "there isn't any way that I can tell whether you need my services or not unless you fill me in on the details of what it is that's bothering you."
"N-no, that's true. But I don't even know if I should be here. I mean this clinic is supposed to help poor people, isn't it, and my father actually makes plenty of money...."
"But to get him to pay for psychiatric help for you, you'd have to tell him something about what your problem is, wouldn't you? And you couldn't bring yourself to do that in a million years, I bet."
"No, I couldn't.. . , " Penny said, casting her eyes down.
"Penny," I said, "why don't we stop playing this little game of cat-and-mouse, and instead have you tell me what it is that's causing you trouble. The purpose of this clinic, as you know, is to help people who can't get assistance in any other way. And I'm perfectly satisfied that that applies to you."
"I suppose you're right...."
"Look, you know as well as I do that this sudden attack of altruism on your part is linked with the fact that you're ashamed of something and you don't want to tell a third party what it is. But unless you can bring yourself to do just that, you're going to have to go on being ashamed of it for the rest of your life. Problems don't go away by themselves."
She looked up at me with a sudden resolution in her eyes, and then she said, "all right, Doctor," and began her story---
I've always been really curious about what it would be like to have sex with a boy, but unfortunately, a lot of the boys in my age group are too timid to try anything. I suppose they like to talk a big game, but that's about the end of it.
I have a really good friend Mary Jane. She and I have been as thick as thieves ever since we were really little, and ever since we got our periods we've talked all the time about what boys must be like.
Our school has a sex education program, so we had a pretty good idea of the basics, but there's an awful lot of difference between seeing an animated film about fucking and getting a chance to actually do it.
The business with the dogs started a couple of months ago, when Mary Jane was over at my place. My mom and dad were out for the evening, so Mary Jane and I were there alone except for the presence of Killer, my Doberman. The name Killer was given to him as a joke, by the way, since he's the sweetest, gentlest animal that you could ever hope to find.
Mary Jane had brought over a book about sex that she had taken out of the library. It was pretty much the same sort of stuff that we got out of the sex education course at school, except for the fact that there was more discussion of different positions, and ways of increasing pleasure.
We were reading the book pretty intently, with Killer snoozing on the floor next to us.
"If only we had a chance to see a penis," Mary Jane said. "I mean, after reading about them, and hearing about them in school, all I can think of is how great it would be to actually get a chance to met one."
"It would be pretty nice to have a chance to actually feel one, too," I said.
"Sure, but I'd be at least partly satisfied with a chance to actually feast my eyes on one."
"Did you notice that bulge in Steve K.'s pants?"
"What, today? You'd better believe it," Mary Jane said.
"You know, if you're so eager to get a look at some prick, you could always look at Killer's."
"That's not such a bad idea," she said. The two of us went over to the sleeping dog, and I tickled him on the ears to make him roll over.
In fact, I hadn't thought of checking out my dog's male equipment before. I guess I had just always taken for granted the fact that he was male.
"It sure doesn't look much like the pricks in the sex books, does it?" Mary Jane said.
"Well, it's still tucked up inside that furry sheath. I think that once we get it out of that, it'll look more like what we're interested in."
I think I should point out, Doctor, that at this time, I'm sure that neither of us had the faintest idea of actually having sex with Killer. We just wanted to get a look at some prick in the flesh.
"How do we get his cock out in the open?" Mary Jane asked. "Just touch it." "You think that'll do it?" "You can always try."
What I think was involved here was that neither of us was quite sure that she really wanted to touch the dog's penis. Not because we were afraid of Killer-like I said, he's a real cream-puff-but because there was something so strange and foreign-seeming about the idea of a prick. It's something that no girl has anything even remotely resembling. Even the clit is awfully different.
Finally, Mary Jane reached out and touched the thing, almost like someone touching a hot stove.
The pink tip of the prick slid slightly out of the furry sheath.
"See," I said, "that'll make it come out."
We were both really fascinated by the sight of the thing sliding out into the open.
I didn't want Mary Jane to think that I had less nerve than she did, so I reached out and quickly touched the cock. I actually touched the pink tip, and of course, that made the thing come sliding out of its sheath all the quicker.
Killer, who was still pretty sleepy, clearly didn't mind any of this, In fact, I got the impression from the way in which he thumped his tail against the carpet that he was quite enjoying it. Well, little did he know it, but there was lots, lots more action to come.
Mary Jane and I were both giggling uncontrollably as we took turns touching the penis. It was all the way out into the open now, and the sight of that hard male member had both of us very excited. I could feel the pussy juice drenching my panties and making them cling wetly to my tender girl-parts. And as for Mary Jane, the glitter in her eyes, and the way she was breathing heavily, told me pretty clearly that she wasn't exactly calm about all of this.
We were even rubbing the cock now, in quick strokes, and Killer was getting more and more excited. He was still lying on his side, but he was kind of scooting his body around, and moving his paws back and forth. The thumping of the tail had become a regular drumbeat.
All of a sudden, I felt the prick stiffen up a bit more between my fingers, and then start to shoot sperm out into the air.
I thought for a moment I was going to come myself, I was so excited by the sight of that stuff gushing out of the thin red dick. A lot of it landed on my hand.
Both Mary Jane and I were very silent. I think we were kind of awe-struck by the sight of an actual male orgasm. A dog's orgasm, but male nevertheless.
"You know," Marry Jane said, "if that was a boy's spunk, I bet that you'd want to lick it off your hand."
"How do you know that I don't?"
"Why don't you then?"
"Why don't you?"
Again, I think that it was something that both of us wanted to do, but each was afraid of what the other one would think.
"I'll do it if you do," Mary Jane said finally, and I nodded. I held my hand up to my mouth and licked at it. Then I held it out to Mary Jane, and she licked too.
"Mmmmmm, not bad," she said.
In fact, I was a bit disappointed in the taste as such, but the idea that I was licking sperm was enough to make my already pebble-hard little clit give a special tingle of excitement.
In fact, I was really horny, and very much wanted Mary Jane to leave to that I could have a nice, quiet little beat-off while thinking about Killer's prick.
I guess that she felt the same way, because after a few more minutes of inconsequential conversation, she said that she had to get back to her place because her mother wanted her to do some things.
As soon as the door closed behind her, I went straight up to my room and tore off my clothes. Then, I pressed my hand against my crotch as hard as I could and flopped down on the bed.
For a while, I didn't make any moves or anything. I just lay there enjoying the pressure that my fingers were putting on my cunt.
The sight of that big penis shooting dog-cream was really something else. After a few seconds, I stopped just cupping my crotch and began to trail my fingers back and forth across the surface of my cunt.
I was as if I had just gotten out of the bathtub. My clit was so stiff that it nearly ached, and as for my labia, they were so sensitive that they could hardly bear to be touched.
I wormed my fingers into my twat (a bicycle seat took care of my maidenhead a year before) and pressed my fingertips against the soft, wet cunt walls. That was really delicious, but I couldn't help thinking how much better a prick would feel in there. A dog's prick? Even a dog's prick. I wasn't sure that I was ever going to go so far as to allow Killer to stick his rod up into me, but in my present state how much better a prick would feel in there. A dog's prick? Even a dog's prick. I wasn't sure that I was ever going to go so far as to allow Killer to stick his rod up into me, but in my present state of excitement, I wasn't all that sure that I warnt going to, either.
I rubbed my thumbs back and forth across labia, and then pressed them hard against my clit. There was a moment's numbness, followed by a flash of pure sensation as my body began to busk and heave and writhe to the force of my come.
"Killer! Killer! Killer!" I moaned as I pressed my fingers against my soggy, spasming pussy-flesh and thought about that dog-prick gushing its wad out onto the floor and onto my hand.
When I was done, I felt a bit sheepish and ashamed of myself. Not for beating off-I've never had any hang-ups about that-but for allowing myself to get so carried away by the idea of sex with a dog. And for licking his spunk. After all, there really is something pretty creepy and weird about the idea of licking a dog's spunk.
"Hell," I said to myself, "what I need's a good boyfriend, good or otherwise, on the horizon, and I'm a girl with pretty strong sexual needs. So far, the only way that I had of meeting them was by myself or with Killer, and I couldn't help feeling that any kind of partner would be better than none at all.
The next day in school, Mary Jane and I talked over the experience of the previous day. She admitted to having beaten off while thinking about Killer, and that made me feel a whole lot better.
"Why don't I come over this evening, and we can see if we can get him to come again," she said.
In fact, I was sure that she was also interested in seeing what other things could be done with the dog, but so was I. To tell the truth, after having to but up with lonely hand-jobs and sex education books for so long, I was really curious to see some more live male action.
We had the house to ourselves again, and we sat on the floor chatting and tickling Killer behind the ears.
He responded by licking Mary Jane on the hand. I couldn't help noticing how long and thin and flexible that tongue was. Mary Jane noticed the glance that I was giving, and said, "kind of gives you ideas, huh?"
"You too."
"Uh huh."
"Do you think he'd want to?"
"What, lick cunt? Sure. Haven't you ever had a dog that tried to get his face up your dress. They're particularly bad about that when you're having your period, though they do it at other times too."
"Do you want to go first?" I asked.
"Do you?"
"Tell you what,' I said. "You know as well as I do that getting your cunt licked is just a start. There are all sorts of other things that I'd would be interested in trying out. So why don't we flip a coin. You call, and if you win the toos, you get to decide what you want to try. And I'll do something equally good."
That seemed fair to Mary Jane. She won the toss and said that she would let him lick her cunt.
She took her clothes off quickly, and then lay on her back with her cunt right next to the big dog's muzzle.
Killer isn't just gentle, he's also sort of apathetic, so it took a little bit of effort to get him interested. I think that he'd have just as soon slept. But once I held his nose up close to Mary Jane's twat, so that he could smell her female odors, the picture changed quickly. I saw him perk up his ears, and I noticed his cock come sliding out of its sheath. He started lapping away on her cunt with great big strokes of that tongue of his.
Slurp! Slurp! Slurp! The flexible member slid back and forth over her pussy, and it seemed like it was getting into just about every little nook and cranny imaginable. The sight of that pink tongue on my friend's pink cuntlips was enough to get me really cranked up. I felt my clit stiffen and my labia tingle. For two pins, I would have beaten off while watching the dog go for her twat. But I thought that I'd wait so that when I got my come doing whatever it was that I did with the dog, it would be all the better. In fact, since up to that time I'd never had a sex partner, I'd never tried to have more than one come in a row. I didn't yet know how completely multi-orgasmic I was.
Mary Jane was arching her back and breathing heavily. She had her hands on her tits and was caressing the soft things vigorously.
"Uh! Uh! Uh!" she moaned as she felt the tongue tease her clit and even work its way part of the distance up into her hole.
I could tell that she wasn't far from her come, and it was a good thing, because I knew that there wasn't any way that I could keep my hands away from my twat for very much longer.
All of a sudden, I saw her pelvis start to buck and heave, and I heard her let out a long, protracted groan. She as coming, and coming hard. I could tell that from the way in which she mashed her hands against her tits, from the way her forehead was covered from sweat, from the way her head was tossing from side to side....
And all the while, the big dog continued to lap and lap on that spasming, agonized cunt....
"Wheewwwwwww!" Mary Jane sighed. "Quite a ride?"
"Quite ... a ... ride...." It was obvious from her tone of voice that she felt almost completely fucked-out and exhausted.
It was clear thought that if she was satisfied, the big Doberman wasn't. His tongue was still slurping away on her spent pussy, and his cock was all the way out of its sheath. It looked even harder than it had the night before, and that meant that it had to be pretty fucking hard indeed.
It was my turn, and my responsibility to do something about that prick of his. At first, I thought about sucking the dog's cock, but then, all of a sudden, I decided that I might as well go all the way. I felt horny as hell, and I knew that it would really impress Mary Jane for me to just casually decide to actually fuck with the dog.
I got onto my hands and knees and presented my twat to the dog. Mary Jane had gotten to her feet, so he wasn't licking her twat any more.
I guess that dogs have sort of one-track minds, because despite the fact that his prick was literally aching for a come, Killer was a bit slow off the mark in recognizing the opportunity that was being presented to him. Instead of mounting me right away, he moved his muzzle up to my cunt and started to lick on it just like he had on Mary Jane's.
"Are you just going to have him eat you out?" Mary Jane asked, a note of disappointment in her voice. She had obviously hoped that I was going to do something a bit different and more daring than she had. After all, that was more or less what I had promised, and after having gone first, which required a fair amount of courage, she quite reasonably felt that I should give her a better show than just a cuntlapping like the one that she had finished receiving herself.
"Oh, don't worry," I said, a bit exasperated by the dog's slowness to understand what it was that I wanted. "Here, lift his paws up onto my back, and you'll get a chance to see something worthwhile."
She did as I asked, and no sooner was Killer in position than he figured out what it was that was expected of him, and went to work. I felt him prod his prick-tip against the entrance to my cunt, and then, after he had figured out where the hole was, he slid his long, thin member on into me. A gasp from Mary Jane indicated that she was indeed suitably impressed.
The cock felt really wonderful as it slid into me. As I felt the walls of my cunt being pressed apart, I couldn't help thinking that this was my real, female destiny-to be entered, filled, possessed by a hard male tool!
I don't think that Killer was so interested in that kind of philosophizing. His bag was sliding his cock back and forth inside a cunt till he got his rocks off, and that was just exactly what he intended on doing here.
He started bucking away rapidly, without a second's pause, and was soon sliding his prick back and forth with very evenly-paced strokes. I've taken music, and I couldn't help thinking that being fucked by Killer was a little bit like being fucked by a metronome. There was a certain slightly monotonous quality.
Well, monotonous as far as the tempo goes. But that doesn't mean that there wasn't plenty of pleasure for me to have, too. Every thrust of that prick pulled my labia across my clit in the most tantalizing,-'exciting manner imaginable. My hips quivered slightly with every stroke that the dog gave me. And adding to my already intense excitement was the thought that this was somehow turning me into a grown woman. If you've had prick in your cunt, you can't be considered a little girl any more, it seemed to me.
Buck! Buck! Buck! This below-the-waist action of his was driving me pretty well out of my mind, and I was managing much the same sort of thing myself above the waist. In fact, I was giving my tits fits. I was moving my shoulders from side to side to make them swing, I was pressing them up against my chest, I was teasing and pulling on the nipples until the little nubs were almost ready to burst with excitement....
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Cock! Cunt! Cock! Cunt! I was quickly turning into one great palpitating mass of come-need.
"Come! Gotta come! Make me Come!" I gasped.
He almost had me there ... almost ... almost....
My eyes were tightly closed now, my tongue was hanging out of my mouth, my shoulders were rocking gently from side to side....
In! Out! In! Out! Nearly there....
"Just can't stand it ... just can't.. . "
And all of a sudden, the dam bust and I was coming, coming, COMING!
My hips bucked and churned, my cunt contracted frantically around the dog's prick, and the prick responded by shooting gob after gob after gob of dog cream deep, deep into me.
"Woman! I'm a WOMAN!" I gasped as I felt the sperm pour on into me. The dog had possessed me, taken me, fucked me....
At last the orgasm subsided, and Killer lost no time in pulling his cock out of me. I would have sort of liked it for him to have left it in there awhile longer, so that I could have felt it actually soften up a bit inside me, but I guess that dogs aren't interested in that sort of thing. Once they've gotten their rocks off, that's it as far as they are concerned.
I got to my feet, and felt the sperm dribble out of my cunt. I looked over at Mary Jane. She was lying on the floor with her hand on her cunt and a very satisfied expression on her face. It was obvious that she had beaten off while watching me get fucked by Killer.
"That was quite something," she said.
"Yeah," I said, "yeah it was."
I think both of us sensed that there was no turning back....
After Mary Jane had left, I started to feel more and more depressed about the fact that I was acquiring such a taste for animal sex. I thought for a moment that maybe I should foreswear any future fucking with Killer. But I'm a pretty good judge of my own willpower. I know perfectly well what promises I can keep and what ones I can't. The feeling of that hard dog-dick sliding back and forth inside me was something that I just wouldn't be able to do without from now on.
In fact, later on that very evening, just before going to bed, I found myself wondering what it would be like to suck on Killer's prick. As you remember, that was the activity that I had originally been planning to fulfill my agreement with Mary Jane with. For some reason, I just couldn't get the image of that cock out of my mind, and every time that I thought about it, I would find my tongue sliding out of my mouth and wetting my lips with anticipation.
"I guess that there's no fighting it," I said. I went downstairs and found Killer sleeping by the fire. I knew that you're supposed to let sleeping dogs lie, but I figured that he wouldn't mind being woken up for something as nice as a blow-job.
In fact, I guess he had already come to associate me pretty closely with sex, because as soon as I woke him up by patting him on the head, his prick started to slip part way out of its sheath.
"C'mon, boy," I said. "I've got something nice in store for you."
I led him upstairs to my bedroom. There, I got him to stand on the bed, while I knelt next to him. I put my hand under his belly and took hold of his cock-sheath, which I rubbed and stroked a couple of times. like I said, the rod was already part of the way out into the open anyway, and the attentions that I was giving it brought it the rest of the way out in no time flat. I could feel the thing pulse and vibrate between my fingers with raw, male energy. My clit tingled with excitement, and I felt a drop of pussy-fluid trickle down the inside of my left thigh.
I bent down and moved my head under the big dog's stomach. There the cock was, all right, hard, long, eager-looking.
I gave a little kiss right on the tip. That caused it to give an extra little surge. Then, I placed my lips around it sideways, and slid them up and down the length of the thing, while Killer stood very, very still and very, very tense.
I ran my lips over his balls, which were pulled up as tight as they could go in their sack. I even took them in my mouth for a while and sucked on them before turning my attention back to the big animal's prick. After all, that was the most important target.
I nibbled at the very end of his cock with my lips, and then finally slipped them over it.
It was a real groove having that long, hard thing there in my mouth. Although you think of the cunt as a more specifically female part of the body than the mouth (after all, guys have mouths too), somehow having that rod between my lips made me feel every bit as possessed and female as having it in my cunt had done.
I slid the lips up and down the length of his prick for a while, before settling down on sucking at the root of the thing, while using my right hand to caress his ball sack. My left hand was busy elsewhere, namely working over my steamy cunt, which was already so excited that it was just about demanding a come.
As I worked my fingers against my labia and up into my hole, I continued to pull on the dog's penis with my mouth. My tongue was inside my mouth, and I was pressing the tip of it against that part of the shaft that was there too. And all the while, the big Doberman stood still and patient. He knew by now that when I got interested in his penis, it meant that he was going to have a good time.
I figure that fucking required plenty of variety, so after sucking on his prick root for a while, I moved my lips up and began to work over the end of his cock. That really drove him wild, judging from the happy bark that he gave and the way in which his legs trembled with excitement....
All the while I was giving my pussy one of the most thorough workouts that it had ever gotten. I was rubbing my clit and labia in all directions, and doing everything else that I possibly could to stimulate my twat.
I was so wet down there that I finally took my mouth off of the dog's prick for a second so that I could lick my fingers. It would be interesting to compare the taste of my female juices with that of the dog's male ones.
I wanted to come at the same time the dog did, and I figured that this wasn't going to be any problem. Already, my twat was just about to melt from cone-need. All I had to do was wait until I knew the Doberman was about to let fly, and then apply a tiny bit more pressure to my clit and labia. That would be enough to get me off.
It didn't seem that that moment was going to be very far off, either. I could tell from the heavy labored breaths that Killer was taking, tell from the way his cock felt in my mouth, tell from all sorts of other little signs that I instinctively understood that he was right on the brink of his come.
I pressed my lips harder against his cock-skin, and at the same moment, I gave a little pinch to my clit.
Bam! I timed it perfectly. At just the exact instant that my pussy erupted into a flaming volcano of come-pleasure, I felt the first gobs of sperm shoot out of Killer's prick and splatter against the back of my mouth.
Gush! Gush! Gush! Man oh man, were those balls of his full!
I held my crotch tightly and reveled in the feeling of my hips trembling and my cunt contracting, as all the time my mouth serve as the sperm-receptacle for a great big dog!
Finally, he stopped shooting, and at long last, my cunt stopped convulsing. We were done, and we both felt very, very played out. I continued to suck on his prick for a while, then slipped my lips off of the thing.
My bedroom has a private bathroom, and I went in and looked at myself in the mirror. I used my tongue to force a drop or two of the dog-spunk up over the top of my lips, so that I could see it dribble down to my chin. I opened my mouth and looked at the pool of semen there, and I dipped my fingers in it and held them up to the light. After playing around like that for a little while more, I gulped the Doberman's load down.
I got into bed and turned out the light. It wasn't easy for me to get to sleep, though. I had really wanted to blow Killer, and I knew perfectly well that tomorrow, I would want to do something similar with him. What I didn't understand was why I felt so bad about this sort of thing in between times.
Sure enough, despite all my guilt feelings of the evening before, when I woke up that morning, I was just as eager as ever to have some sex with that fine big dog of mine. In fact, I would have liked to have a quickie before going off to school, but I just didn't have time. The day dragged on pretty slowly as I waited for school to end so that I could get back to my beloved dog.
"By the way," Mary Jane said to me, "how does Killer get along with cats?" "Cats?"
"Uh huh," she said. "The J.'s have left their cat Pudding with us for a couple of days. I've been thinking that there's all sorts of fun that we might have with him."
"Have you tried out any of this fun?"
"You'd better believe it," Mary Jane said. "In fact, if you think that having your cunt licked by a dog is neat, wait until you try out that raspy tongue that a cat has." "It's small, isn't it?"
"Yeah," she said, "but that just means that it fits in everywhere. I'm not kidding. Getting your cunt licked by a cat is really neat."
"Well, to answer your first question, Killer has never had any trouble getting along with cats, but would the cat get along with him?"
"Oh yes. Pudding's very used to the J.'s old dog, whose boarding out with Sheila while the J.'s are away. I think that the two of them should get along famously."
I had to admit that I was fascinated by the idea of a foursome involving a dog and a cat, so I told Mary Jane that I would bring Killer over to her place. It seems less suspicious to take a dog for a walk than to try and do that with a cat.
The cat in question was a big, lazy looking Persian. Mary Jane asked if I would like to start out by having him lick my cunt.
I agreed, and soon the creature had that raspy tongue going all over my twat. I had to admit that she was completely right. It really was quite a sensation! I guess that tomcats are just as turned on by women's smell as dogs are, because Pudding really licked at me with enthusiasm. Every time that sandpaper surface would drag across my labia, I'd think that I was going straight out of my mind.
Finally, a last lick across my clit was enough to get me over the top, and my cunt exploded in a series of violent shudders while the feline continued to lick and lap at me, like he was drinking from a bowl of cream!
Seeing me get my cunt licked like that had made Mary Jane hungry for some similar action, so she had Killer do it with her while I was getting it from the big Persian tomcat.
Then, after we had gotten our breath back a bit, I decided to see if it would be possible to get Killer to fuck me face-to-face, just like a boy would.
"I've got my doubts," Mary Jane said.
"Me too, but it's worth a try. After all, nothing ventured, nothing gained, or whatever it is that they say."
I lay on the floor with my legs spread, while Mary Jane, acting on my instructions led Killer up so that he was standing with his forepaws above my shoulders, and his hind paws on either side of my hips.
"Okay boy, sit," I said.
He took that pretty literally too, just plunking his ass down on the floor. Clearly, he didn't have a clue as to what it was that I really wanted him to do.
I reached down and took hold of his prick. I gently bent this down away from his body, and then raised my hips slightly. By jockeying around in this fashion, I was finally able to get my cunt over the tip of his cock.
Feeling my pussy flesh press in on his tool like that turned out to be the only inspiration that he needed. Even though the position was of course totally new to him, with that stimulus, he was able to figure out what I wanted. He shoved his rod in, and started to buck it back and forth.
At first, the going wasn't all that smooth, as he tried to get accustomed to the position. But after a while he sort of got the swing of things, and the action improved a great deal.
What was nice was for me to be able to see my partner. There are some nice aspects to be taken from behind, as if by surprise, but it's also nice for a change to be able to get a good look at the fellow who's sliding his cock back and forth inside your body like that.
"Quick," I said to Mary Jane, "go get some beef concentrate if you have it."
Mary Jane headed out of the room quickly and returned with a little bottle of beef concentrate from the kitchen. You know, the kind of stuff that you make beef bouillon with. One drop is used per cup of water to make bouillon, so you can imagine how beefy it tastes undiluted.
I told Mary Jane to pour some of the stuff on my breasts, and particularly on my nipples.
Of course, the dog could smell it, and he immediately started to lick away on my tits to get at the beefy taste. I was really rather pleased with myself for finding this way of getting him interested in licking my tits, since I knew that in general they were something that a dog wouldn't be inclined to show any interest in at all.
Slurp! Slosh! Slurp! That tongue, which felt so wonderful when it was licking my twat, felt every bit as good as it went to work on my tits.
My nipples swelled out with excitement as they felt it rubbing back and forth against them.
And all the time, I had the penis working away inside my twat, back and forth, back and forth.
I stroked Killer's ears and kissed him on his cold, doggy nose as he continued to lay it into me.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
"Come! Need come! Need come!" I gasped in perfect time to his strokes.
And then, I teas coming, with my cunt clutching hard at a cock that responded by shooting gob after gob after gob of sperm up into it.
"Uh! Uh! Uh! UHHHHHHHH!"
And that was it.
For a moment, I had a bit of trouble putting my thoughts together, the come had left me so dazed. All I knew was that I had had a very, very good time.
One thing about Mary Jane: she certainly wasn't a girl who was ever short on ideas. As soon as I had finished with Killer, she said, "now to find out how compatible my cunt and Pudding's prick are!"
"You're kidding, aren't you?"
"Not in the least. After all, look how excited his thing is!"
And it was true enough that the cat's penis was very, very rigid looking. Licking Mary Jane's cunt had obviously gotten the big Persian all worked up, and he needed some relief. I would have thought that Mary Jane would have either given him a hand-job, or maybe blown him, though if I had been her I wouldn't have wanted those claws near my face. But that didn't seem to be what she had in mind.
"How on earth can you fuck with him, Mary Jane?" I asked. "His cock's so small that you'll never notice it in your cunt."
"Not in my cunt, true, but how about on my cunt?"
I still wasn't quite sure what it was that she had in mind, but she didn't take long in enlightening me. She lay back with her legs spread and held the tomcat so that his cock rested against the outside of her cunt. Against the labia and the stiff little clit.
"After all," she said, "the outside of the cunt is every bit as sensitive as the inside, or maybe even more so. That's the principle that I'm working under."
And having said that, she started to sort of undulate her hips, so that her labia pulled back and forth across the cat's penis.
That was done for purposes of inspiration, and sure enough, it didn't take very long for Pudding to get the idea. The big tomcat started to move his hips back and forth, as he masturbated himself on his temporary mistress's tender twat, so to speak. That enabled her to lie back and enjoy the voluptuous pleasures of passivity.
I found the sight pretty enthralling. I had my head down near her cunt, and I could see the cat's hard little prick (well, not all that little, considering the size of the animal) slide back and forth, back and forth on her labia. The pink of the cat's penis just about perfectly matched the pink of her labia. It was all a weltering mass of soggy, wrinkled skin and wild sexual pleasure!
The cat moved his prick faster and faster as he got more and more excited. That was an interesting contrast to Killer, who used pretty much the same tempo throughout each fuck.
Although she had started out enjoying the pleasure of being passive and letting Pudding do all the work, as Mary Jane got more and more excited, she started to move her hips slightly too, to increase the stimulation for both of them.
All of a sudden, I saw the cat's rod start to quiver, and then quite a stream of cock-juice come shooting out. I was amazed at how much of the stuff Pudding had in his balls, but then again, I had been amazed the first time by the amount of jism that Killer had.
As Pudding's penis let fly, I saw Mary Jane's hips buck and heave, and heard her gasp with excitement. There could be no doubt at all of the fact that she was really coming hard.
As she came, she pressed the cat as close to her as she could, so that she could enjoy his furry warmth as well as the virile energy of his spewing cock.
All this time, while I had been engaging in sex with Killer and Pudding, I had felt pretty bad about it, but I had consoled myself with the thought that maybe the only reason that I got it off on animals was that I simply didn't have any other partner. The other boys in my class were either jerks or they just didn't have the nerve to ask me to fuck. I went to the movies and to pizza parlors and places like that with them, but there was never much action. One of them actually put his hand on my right tit, and believe it or not, I could feel the hand tremble. Not with excitement. With fear.
When a boy finally did ask me out who seemed like he might be a bit more aggressive, I was almost afraid to accept for fear that I would find when put to the test that I really did prefer animals to humans after all.
The boy in question was Greg P. He was an eleventh grader, and he had kind of a reputation around the school as a cocksman. It was said that if a girl didn't want to have sex with him, she'd better not accept a date from him, since he had a smooth-tongued line of bullshit that would get through the most determined feminine resistance.
Well, I wasn't interested in putting up any of the latter, so I figured that maybe things would really go well between us.
Despite the fact that he had a reputation as a pretty aggressive character, Greg wasn't really a bad sort of guy. He knew what he wanted, that was all.
We wound up back at his place, which was pretty much what I had expected, and it wasn't long before his hands were on my tits. The difference between this time and the time I described with that other boy was immense. Not only did Greg's hands not tremble with nervousness, but there was something supremely self-confident about them. They had obviously been on plenty of tits in their time, obviously figured that that was a natural place to be, and were prepared to give plenty of pleasure.
I put up a very token kind of resistance, more for the sake of his ego than anything else, and it wasn't more than a minute after Greg had put his hands on my tits that he had my sweater and bra off and was giving my globes a direct feel.
His hands really knew how to work tit, too. He would gently caress the nipples until they swelled up to about three times their normal size. He trailed his fingers across the surface of the tits, and sort of moved the globes around in lazy circles.
Although he was obviously a guy who really enjoyed handling breasts, that certainly didn't mean that he wasn't pretty good with other parts of the female body. He moved his right hand down to my crotch, and after pulling my soggy panties away, began giving me an absolutely delicious feel down there.
"You want it, don't you?" he said in that smooth voice of his to which it was impossible to give a no answer.
I just nodded my head.
He got on top of me and slid his penis inside my body. Then, he started bucking away.
It was as much as a minute perhaps before I realized that something was very badly wrong. His cock was providing nice sensations to my cunt, there could be no doubt about that, but it wasn't really getting me worked up to a come. The in-and-out was pleasant, but there wasn't that gradually mounting crescendo of excitement that I had come to expect from my fucks with Killer, or for that matter, from the hand jobs that I'd been giving myself since puberty.
I gave a little shiver of anxiety. This was just exactly the sort of thing that I had been afraid of. By screwing around with the dog, I had spoiled myself for human sex. I didn't know how I had done it, but I had.
I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate. Surely, if I gave little counterthrusts with my hips and tensed the muscles in my legs, like I sometimes did when I beat off, that would help.
No dice. And from the pace with which Greg was laying it into me, I could guess that he wasn't far from his come. He wasn't a bad guy, and the fact that I wasn't getting turned on certainly wasn't his fault, so I figured that I had better fake it.
I did a convincing enough job, I guess, gasping and groaning and moaning, and clutching at his prick with my cunt. But as far as I was concerned, there wasn't anything. I was frigid.
Frigid! What a horrible word. And what a horrible way to be!
"Did you have a good time?" I heard Greg ask.
"Sure. Fine." I said, and I smiled as I said it. I would have preferred to cry.
He went and got some drinks for us, and we sat on the sofa and chatted for a while. Then he asked me if I would like to have him lick my cunt.
I hoped that maybe things would go better with oral sex, so I agreed. He knelt down in front of me and pressed his face against my cunt. Then his tongue went darting rapidly out to tease and caress my labia and my clit.
But the same thing happened that happened when he had his prick inside me. There was a definite initial stimulation, but this never got any farther, never developed into anything. The feeling of his tongue on my tender female parts was nice, but I just couldn't get worked up enough to come.
He was slurping and slurping away, and I suddenly realized that unless I pretended to come again, he might go on licking until his tongue was exhausted. I went through the same sort of motions that I had during the fuck. He got something out of it, at any rate, since even though he wasn't able to make my pussy come, it did secrete a fair amount of cunt-dringle.
After that, he wanted me to suck his prick. Normally, I would have thought that really nice, but now I was so heartbroken that the only thing I could do was just work away on him mechanically until he came.
I went running up to my room when I got home, threw myself on my bed, and then just cried and cried and cried. While I was crying, I heard a scratching on the door. It was Killer. I let him in, and decided to fuck with him to see if I would be frigid with him too. In a way, I almost hoped that I was. After all being completely frigid seems a lot less kinky than just being able to get it off with dogs.
But in fact, as his cock slid back and forth inside me, I noticed just the phenomenon that had been missing when I had been fucking with Greg. The level of excitement built up and up, and soon I found my body writhing with frantic come-need, until at last the bubble burst, and my pussy let loose with the orgasm that it had been trying to have all night. It clutched desperately at the big cock, which unloaded itself into it in good, hard spurts.
As soon as the come subsided, though, I found myself crying again, about the weird situation that I had gotten myself into, and the fact that I would apparently only be able to enjoy sex when I had it with animals!
The trouble with socially unconventional sexual behavior is not that it is in some way "wrong" in and of itself, but the fact that society regards it as such can cause enormous emotional problems for the person who finds him or herself engaging in it. Penny W.'s case is an almost perfect illustration of this fact.
Her initial sexual involvement with animals stemmed from a combination of sexual desire, curiosity, and the wish to behave in a grown-up way. We have seen these factors at work before, namely in the case of Suzanne T. However, where Suzanne T. was an essentially insecure person, there is every reason to believe that Penny W.'s personality was essentially a well-adjusted one at the time she first began having sex with her Doberman, Killer. The layman may find it difficult to accept the possibility of someone with a well-adjusted personality getting sexually involved with a dog, but that is simply because of his own prejudices. The phenomenon of two young teenage girls discussing sex and getting drawn into sexual experimentation is an extremely common one. Sometimes, this experimentation is lesbian in nature. In this case, it involved bestiality.
If it were not for the fact that society regards bestiality as essentially depraved, there would have been nothing to prevent Penny from moving on from involvement with animals to involvement with boys. As was true with Suzanne T., the boys would have eventually caught up with her in terms of sexual aggressiveness and maturity. But right from the beginning of her involvement with Killer, Penny felt strong feelings of guilt. They were suppressed during the actual sexual relations, as one would expect, but manifested themselves afterwards, once the excitement had died down.
And, it should be noticed, they got increasingly intensive as time went by. At first, the thrill of actually engaging in sex was such that she was able to push her scruples under the rug fairly easily. But as the newness wore off, the feelings of guilt were increasingly able to make themselves felt.
The fear that she might not be able to successfully engage in sex with a boy, as opposed to a dog or cat, was a direct manifestation of these feelings of guilt. Inwardly, because she had violated a social taboo, she felt that she was not worthy of any boy. The frigidity was a punishment which she subconsciously inflicted upon herself for her deviation from the sexual norm.
Because an ability to "perform" sexually is something which our culture places a high value on, sexual dysfunctions are apt to perpetuate themselves through the individual's very fear of their recurrence. The man who for some perhaps perfectly unimportant reason such as drunkenness is unable to get an erection may find that henceforth he will be impotent because he is afraid, he will be. In a sense, sex is one of those things where the harder you try, the less-likely you are to achieve success. The more Penny feared that she was not going to be able to have an orgasm with Greg, the more un-likely it was that she would be able to do so.
Clearly, my job as therapist in this case was twofold. I had to eliminate the irrational guilt which Penny W. felt about the sexual relations she had been having with animals, and I had to enable her to again be able to have orgasms with human males. Obviously, there was a lot of overlap between these two tasks. As long as she felt guilty and had a subconscious desire to punish herself by frigidity, she would never be able to have an orgasm. But because of the importance of the fear-of-failure factor that I mentioned above, removing the guilt would not be enough by itself. It would be perfectly possible for her guilt as regards bestiality to be eliminated, but for her to still be unable to achieve orgasm with a boy because, having failed once, she would fear failure on all future occasions of intercourse, and would be unable to achieve the state of confidence necessary for orgasm.
The removal of the guilt was, however, of necessity my first task, and this I was eventually able to do by repeatedly emphasizing to her the relative nature or moral codes and the fact that her sexual exploration was not nearly as unusual as she seemed to think.
As for the actual fear of failure, I would have liked to send her to a sex clinic, where through actual practice individuals are often able to overcome sexual dysfunction. But her limited means prohibited this (she was absolutely adamant about wanting to keep her parents in the dark about her problem), and for legal reasons, no sex clinic would take on a minor without parental consent.
As her guilt disappeared, though, she found herself increasingly willing to accept invitations from boys, and as time passed, the boys in her age group grew older and more adventurous. She finally found a boy who seemed very understanding and considerate, and whom she liked a good deal. On my advice, she confided her orgasm problem to him, which meant that when they had sex, she did not feel obligated to go through the frustrating business of pretending to have an orgasm. With that psychological pressure removed, she was already much more-likely to reach climax, and through patience and understanding her boyfriend was finally able to bring her to orgasm, almost when she least expected it. Her mental block belonged to the category of those which, once overcome, usually do not cause any more trouble. As for sex with dogs, although she no longer regarded it as "wrong", her guilt on the subject having been removed, she found that it was a poor substitute for sex with a boy she really cared about, and so lost interest in it.