Nicole Duval - The breeders

"Stay, King," Jason spoke gently to the dog, "Stay. King, do you want to lick the girl, boy? Lick the girl, King? STAY. Stay."

The dog was near frantic with the promised goal. His tongue lapped hungrily over his jowls and his penis jutted out at full staff length and bobbed gently up and down with its own weight.

"Jesus," Mario said softly from behind the camera.

"Now, Mario, bring the camera slowly back to the girl and keep it on her until she's on the bed and ready."

The camera swung on a straight line from the dog's stiff pointed organ to the now nude body of Carolyn Vance and paused dutifully on the mouse-brown curls of her split. The camera angle was perfect, Mario grinned to himself, GOD what a film this one would be. The girl was gonna dirty her pants when she saw this one.

"Carolyn," Jason's voice was toneless, coaching once more. "Carolyn, your new husband can't wait to make love to you. Is this the first time you've made love to a man?"

"No," the faint answer came.

"Too bad," Jason muttered softly to his associate, "it would have been damned effective to film the losing of her cherry with the blood and all on the King's big cock. Oh well."

"Jesus wept, I guess!" Mario agreed, his eye still on the girl squared in the viewer. The camera whirred on. "Say, boss, I'd better change film before we start the main event."

"All right. Do we have enough footage to get her on the bed with the dog sniffing her crotch?"

"Hmmmm, I think so," guessed Mario, "give it a try."

"Carolyn, your handsome new husband is so much in love with you. He has asked you to lay down on the bed and wait for him." Jason watched critically as she sat on the end of the blue velvet-covered bed and looked toward the imaginary bridegroom. "That's fine, Carolyn, now just lie back on the bed and relax. Deep… deep… deeply relax. You are so comfortable, so happy, so very happy that you can't help but smile at your husband when he kneels before you. Look down at him and be happy."

The girl on the bed raised her head and looked down the length of her naked body, her eyes fascinated by something her mind said she saw there.

"Carolyn, you are deep… deep… deeply in love with your husband and he is starting to make love to you. You are a passionate woman, deep… deep… deeply passionate woman and your body is beginning to fill with desire for him. You are so anxious to feel his touch. Your body won't lie still, you can't make it lie still."

Jason could hear Mario's heavy breathing from the side of the bed. He looked at the girl on the blue spread, writhing and contorting her body, spreading her creamy white legs until the red crevice split open like a sexy smile. Jason looked longingly at the crack and wished for a quick moment that he could heave his crowbar into its depths and pry it apart until all the goodies were spread open before his ravenous appetite. But that was for later, later when they had their insurance packet carefully stored away, when they knew the girl could not, would not reveal the debasements to which she was forced. There would be time, much time, to ease his throbbing loins. He looked toward the panting animal.

"Now, King," he said softly, "now, boy, lick her clean. Get her, boy."

Carolyn sat with frozen horror, her eyes glued to the small movie screen at the end of the long dining room table, her fingers white from clutching the edge of the thick wooden chair on which she sat.

On the white-beaded screen not six feet from her eyes, she watched herself being ravished by a great golden dog whose terrible pointed penis dug holes in her body, plunging in and out, stretching the tender pink slit mercilessly. When the camera periodically zoomed in for a close-up, she could feel her stomach churn up and she felt ill. She could see the soft inner lips of her vagina cling to the dog's thick hard organ as it rose and fell, leaped and lunged. She could see the muscles, her muscles, tighten and release around the animal's awful penis, slowly, deliberately milking it to climax. But worst of all, worst of all, was the awful look of wild animal passion on her own face, a look of anguished need, of sexual need of such magnitude that she was fascinated and horrified at the same instant. She watched her writhing body raise beneath the dog's humping haunches, rising to meet him thrust for thrust until the bulge on his great organ began to swell toward climax. She could see it growing, like a knot on a tire just before a blowout, see it grow as he pushed and pulled it in and out of her body until the swelling was too great for the small vaginal orifice to release. And still he hunched frantically over her musky hole.

She knew she was going to be ill but still she could not force her eyes from the terrible pictures on the screen. As the great dog's urge claimed him, he humped her cunt so hard that his upward pulls lifted her hips off the bed. He humped her again and again, slamming the thick trunk of his organ in double time, faster, faster. Suddenly Carolyn saw herself – no, not her, some terrible unfortunate creature on the screen – some girl writhe convulsively, forcing her body up the hot fleshy bone, skewering her body onto the dog's humping haunches. The spasms which racked her climaxing body squeezed the bulging organ and he, too, began the frantic race for release. Her climax burst within her, exploding, ripping away the body from the mind. She lay spent and limp upon the deep blue velvet, a single thin red line welling from somewhere within where the dog knot had torn the tender fabric of her body. The huge golden dog humped once, twice more, and then stood still but for an occasional tremor, patiently waiting for the swelling to subside and release him from this used bitch's body.

Carolyn suddenly leaned over, laying her head on her arm along the edge of the table and vomited, retching again and again until only dry heaves shook her body.

Jason Benson smiled coldly and waited. When the heaving had almost ceased, he lifted the ornate water pitcher and poured a glass of water. He tapped her arm gently to attract her attention and sat the ice tinkling glass on the table within reach.

"A cool drink of water will make you feel better, my dear," he said in the same charming modulated voice that Carolyn had thought so attractive during the job interview.

She raised her head and stared across the table at the calm dignified face of Jason Benson. How could she have been so wrong? Outwardly Jason appeared the soul of trust, the soft voice, the cultured demeanor was really all a sham. It was all camouflage for a distorted mind. The prematurely greying hair, the tanned country gentleman look, these were but subtle traps to fool the outside world. Here, inside the high walls of this awful place, he became the base creature he really was. He was just… another of the animals of Royal Benson Kennels! The memory of what she had just seen flooded through her mind like the sloppy backwash of a stagnant swamp. Her throat contracted, her stomach roiled. She reached for the glass of water and drank deeply.

"Feeling better?" he asked, the cold smile fixed upon his face.

Just then the tag end of the rewinding movie reel whirred loose and slap-slapped noisily against the machine.

"Mario!" Jason's voice was edged with contempt for the careless boy. "Watch what you're doing. We wouldn't want to damage that film. It might not be quite so easy to get Carolyn to make another that… interesting."

"Ohhhh, how could you?" Her voice was rimmed with hatred. "How could you?"

"How could I?" Jason smiled. "It was really quite simple, my dear girl. You are sexually inclined by nature and that enviable virtue combined with your almost unbelievable naivete… well, suffice to say, it was a simple task to convince your subconscious mind that it was a devoted lover between your legs."