Desmond Lowell - Sex orgy with animals

"Aaaarrgghh…" she gurgled. "Oh Niles, I hope you're not angry at me for sharing your delicious come with this poor, starved animal…" And then the dog's flame-like tongue was flickering inside her throat once more, and she was jerking him harder than ever and abruptly there came the spastic spurt of the creature's sperm into Betsy's madly shuttling hand, the slimy yellow fluid slopping all over her fingers and shooting onto her naked belly as she crouched beside him.

It was the actual sight of the dog's gluey scum crusting over his wife's hand that did it for Niles. It reminded him all too graphically of the night when he had thrust his fingers between his bride's legs only to find that his place had been preempted by a canine interloper. Or rather a pair of interlopers!

Niles saw red at that moment, his hand went to his waist. With a quick, single motion he ripped off his belt. Then, with a lightning-like sweep of his muscular arm, Niles slammed the heavy leather across the satin rotundity of his wife's exposed ass!

Whap! Whap! And with every blow of the brutally wielded belt, a livid quarter-inch-thick welt erupted across the magnificent perfection of Betsy's sweatily gleaming buttocks.

Her hands sprang instantly to her backside. Her sperm-drenched fingers flew to protect her savagely punished can. "Ohhh!" She screamed, "Oh, Niles, what are you doing to me? Are you angry because I…? Oh! Oh, please! You're ripping my ass to shreds, Niles! Oh, Niles, please don't beat me any more – I'll suck your cock again; I'll kiss your ass, I'll do anything, only please don't – Eeeeeeek! Ooowwww!"

Niles was a veritable paragon of fury as he stood over the helpless, cringing figure of his wife, slamming his heavy belt across the matchless perfection of her bare ass, her thighs, even her tits received their share of his skyrocketing wrath.

Niles did not cease until his arm was literally numb with fatigue. By that time, Betsy's entire body was a mass of welts where the savage leather had torn relentlessly at her flesh.

As he flung down the belt in disgust, his face was still grim. "Arrange your clothing!" he ordered, his throat thick with emotion. "For pete's sake, try to make yourself at least slightly presentable. We're going home!"

Betsy was sullen as they plodded silently homeward. When they finally entered their house, she started to speak, but Niles silenced her with a slap. "Keep your mouth shut, you bitch!" he snarled, "Only a bitch would have sex with a dog. And bitches can't speak, they can only grovel and whine!" He shoved her to her knees. "Go ahead," he commanded icily, "go ahead, bitch! Down on your belly – grovel for me!"

"Niles, only listen to me for one second…" she began piteously.

"On your belly, you filthy heap of dog-shit!" he shouted, "Your punishment has only begun!" As Betsy sank to her knees, he ripped the dress from her exquisite figure with a single swoop of his powerful hand. "Who the hell ever heard of a dog wearing a dress?" he hooted scornfully. Now Betsy was completely nude except for her hose, her garter belt and her high-heeled slippers.

Niles removed something from his jacket pocket and brandished it before Betsy's astonished eyes. "Do you see this?" he asked her.

"Why – why, it's a dog collar and a leash!" she exclaimed wonderingly. "Where did you get that, Niles?"

"I took it from the dog you were just romping with," he informed her, sternly. "Right now, I think you have greater need for it than he does." Kneeling, Niles clamped it around Betsy's neck.

"You – you're putting a dog collar on me?" Betsy gulped, unbelievingly. "But, Niles…?"

"And why not?" her husband stormed. "You're a bitch, aren't you? What's peculiar about a dog-collar on a bitch?" Betsy attempted to rise, but Niles shoved her to the floor with one motion of his swift arm. "On your hands and knees!" he shouted.

Then, as Betsy meekly followed on all fours, Niles led her into the kitchen at the end of the leash. He began to rummage in the refrigerator, his face a stony and inscrutable mask.

"I'm not hungry…" Betsy began.

Niles turned steely eyes on her. "Haven't I warned you?" he asked ominously. Thereafter, Betsy was silent. She crouched there, naked, on the floor, tremblingly awaiting Niles' next move.

It was not long in coming. Swiftly selecting a few messy leftovers from the refrigerator shelves, he dumped them all together into a cracked bowl which he placed on the floor. "Eat!" he commanded.

"What? You want me to eat that slop? You expect me to crouch here on all fours and eat from the floor like a…?"

"Like a dog!" Niles finished for her, grinning savagely as he spoke. "Exactly! And keep your fingers out of the dish – who ever heard of a common alley mutt using its paws to eat with?" And before Betsy could offer another word of protest, Niles pushed her face right into the gooey mess.

While Betsy strove miserably to force the food down her throat, Niles secured the leash tightly around a table leg so Betsy could not move her head more than a few inches in any direction without choking herself. Then he stood over her, arms folded, while he grimly murmured, "Eat, you bitch-cunt! Every morsel of it! Dogs that don't eat are liable to fall sick, and I'm damned if I'll spend five bucks on you for a veterinarian."

When she had nearly succeeded in gobbling down the vile jumble of half-stale leftovers, Niles said, "The whole picture is very clear to me now, Betsy. I know now what happened on our wedding night. I know you let those two dogs fuck you in the hotel gardens. That's why you were so eager to suck me off. You didn't want me sticking my fingers or my dong up your pretty twat because you knew exactly what I'd find there."

"Niles, have pity on me. Listen to me only for one second."

This time, Niles' rage almost burst the bonds of sanity. Again removing his heavy leather belt, he lashed her naked body over and over, forcing her to squirm and grovel, first on her belly, then on her back, as the barbarous lash wrote its message of fire over the pale whiteness of her satiny hide.

He continued to whip her for five maniacal minutes. At the end of that time, he suddenly dropped the lash, and bursting into tears, sank to his knees beside her. "I'm sorry, dear," he blurted, as he loosened the dog collar from around her neck, "but something just seemed to come over me. When I saw you degrading yourself with that dog outside, and when it dawned on me how you'd let yourself be defiled on our wedding night…"

"It's all right, dearest," Betsy said soothingly. She was crying too, now. "But I have this compulsion whenever I'm near a fine-looking dog to – to handle him intimately. To fondle his cock. To kiss him. To let him thrust his snout up my pussy and excite me with it. I-I've been like this for a long time, dearest. But I promise to do better in the future. I swear it! After all, I have a fine, virile husband with the biggest, most beautiful prick a girl could want to have between her legs. Or between her lips. I love having you ramrod your smoking prick up my cunt, Niles. I love to suck it too. Say you forgive me, darling, and I promise you an extra treat tonight when we go to bed."

"Of course," he forgave her. It was easy to forgive Betsy when she smeared her lush, naked softness against his muscular maleness, making his cock quiver and flip inside his pants like a hooked eel, and when she tilted her childlike face upwards for him to kiss.

And she kept her promise that night. She had promised an extra treat, and she delivered it. In spades. She made her lovely, normally resilient tongue into a wondrous imitation of a poker-stiff prick which she slowly, with infinite guile, intruded between his buttocks and lovingly protruded into his blissfully acquiescent asshole, reaming and sucking and making her mouth and tongue perform all sorts of fantastic tricks that eventually resulted in his climaxing without her even touching a finger to his cock.