Ron Bywood - Beast humping

But things got pretty 'X'y from there on. Clarence scurried around behind her began and began licking away at her rear-end – asshole, cunt, the works. After a little bit of that action they reversed positions once again and she went to work on the little mutt's hind-quarters.

The boys with the cameras had moved in now. No more long shots. Everything would be in full-screen close-ups from here on apparently. I moved in myself just beyond the circle of prop spectators, to be sure I didn't miss any of the action myself.

The little poodle was in a sort of spread-legged squat, his hind legs trembling, as Julia's pretty pink tongue worked up under the cleft of his tail-end. Then she flopped over suddenly onto her back, grabbed Clarence and pulled him up over her face. With his hind legs straddling her cheeks, she proceeded to rain kisses and lip-nuzzlings on his little prick, which didn't stay little very long thereafter. She sucked him up to a respectable dog-sized, erection and then she did a quick flip over onto her back and twisted herself around while little Lord Clarence patiently stood by, quivering all over in anticipation of the delights to come. She popped open her legs with a dramatic flourish, aiming her split pussy point-blank at the dog and into the peering eyes of the floor-level cameras.

She whistled softly and snapped her fingers and Clarence gave a little answering yip and then leaped forward up into the V of her sprawled crotch. He climbed up over her belly with his front paws, his prick straining forward in the cleft below, his tail wagging furiously.

"Go, man," the director called out, clapping his hands. Already he was counting up his profits from this history-making film epic that he saw happening before his very cameras.

But Lord Clarence needed no director to urge him on at this point. He knew his part and carried it through without a hitch. Julia didn't have to guide him into her. She only laid a hand on the fuzzy topknot of his head and patted him affectionately while he squirmed his slim little butt and wormed his out-thrust prick up into the ready-receptacle of her slit. As soon as he was well-up inside, he began a fast humping, pounding a furious tattoo against her.

Julia spread her legs wider to an incredible near 180 degree split, raised her feet off the floor and kicked out in time with the rapid rhythm of Clarence's pumping action. She quivered her ass-cheeks, shook her boobs, and pounded out a syncopated counter-beat the tile floor with the palms of her hands.

"Ohhhh, sock it to me!" she sang. "Drive it home!"

The cameras were right in there now – inches from the action – blocking my view. But I could still see Clarence's pompom-tipped tail wig-wagging furiously in the air and hear his shrill yips as he drove on toward orgasm.

Then all of a sudden the cameramen leaped up and backed away. Clarence had finally called it quits apparently and now he just lay still where he was, up against her belly and still plugged into her passage but obviously past his orgasm. Only his tail was still in action, waving in the air feebly but triumphantly to celebrate another smash performance under pressure.

I got up myself assuming that this was the end of the act, ready to join everybody else in a round of applause. But the show wasn't over yet after all. There was a grand finale yet to come, and it turned out to be a piece of action that I guarantee you had never appeared on any motion picture screen before in history.

Julia laid her hands on Clarence's back and held him there and then she eased herself up slowly to a squat – then to kneeling – and finally all the way up onto her feet, still with the little grey mop of a puppy pressed tight to her out-thrust belly.

She stroked his head and bumped her hips against him a couple of times to firm up the inside connection. Then she raised first one hand and then the other in the air, and I and behold! Little Lord Clarence was hanging there in thin air, his paws braced against her pussy and thighs, but supported only by his rigid, bulbous prick, jammed tight up inside her tight-clutching cunt.

She humped her hips again and then did a hula grind, but Clarence never budged – he was firmly locked on. Then, smiling broadly, she went into a little spread-legged dance step, spinning and gliding about the floor in her bizarre poodle pussy-patch.

It ended finally with her flopping down on her back again, grabbing hold of Clarence, and then the two of them went into a wild final fuck with the both of them hip-jerking together even more frantically than before, and both of them barking, "Yip-yip-yip!" at one another.

At last Julia let out a wailing shriek, presumably of unbearable orgasmic ecstasy, and with that the lights cut off and the show and the film sequence were finished.

And so finally I had seen Julia's fabulous dog-act with my own eyes. And now that I'd seen it, I was more eager than ever interview young Julia and find out for myself how a sweet young maid from the country had managed to make good as a white slave, drug-freak, and bestial exhibitionist in the big city.

Her black keeper hustled her away that night before I could get to her again for further conversation, but I finally succeeded in setting up an exclusive lunch date with her and at long last I was able sit down in a quiet place with her and Lord Clarence and throw a few questions her way.

One's first impulse might be to feel sorry for Julia – that such a sweet, angel-looking young doll should have gotten herself into such a variety of sordid messes at such an early age, but after talking with her and hearing her own version of her "degradation" process I found that she had a remarkably casual attitude towards it all and certainly did not pity herself in the least. It may be that she has gone far out into left field on various kinds of drug trips that she just doesn't care what happens any more. But let her tell it as she told it to me…

Isley – Why should an intelligent and very beautiful girl like yourself submit to such body abuse and abasement? Any rational reason?

Julia (with a laugh and a shrug) – Me and my body are two separate things. My head is where I live. Everything's cool and beautiful inside there. The things I do with my body are something else again. I use it for kicks – to get me around – to earn bread – to give pleasure to others. It's immaterial to me what I do with my body – it's nothing sacred to me. Only my mind is sacred. Nothing reaches there unless I want it to.

Isley – Unfortunately your mind is fixed to your body. So if your mind wants to go here but your body is being forced to somewhere else, then you have to go with it whether your mind likes it, or not.

Julia – Oh, but nobody makes me do things I don't want to do. I dig all the things that happen to my body. When I freak out other people it freaks me out too.

Isley – How did you get involved in this bestiality business? Was that your idea, or did somebody steer you into it?

Julia – Oh, that was the cats I'm living with now. They made me do it once – trying to humiliate me. That was before they found out it's impossible to do. You can humiliate my body – I dig everything. Especially if its something that nobody else would do.

Isley – These men you live with are both black, aren't they? Do you dig black men especially?

Julia – Not particularly. I'll tell you how I got into that. I met this one boy, Courtland, at a party and he started giving me a lecture about snooty white bitches. I just laughed and told him he was wrong – I didn't give a shit if he was green or purple.

He said, "You wouldn't date me though. You wouldn't sleep with me."

So I went with him just to prove he was wrong – prove it to myself too, I guess. But even after I slept with him he couldn't get over these hang-ups, I had keep proving everything to him. I sucked his prick – I swallowed his come – I ate his asshole.