Man's Best Friend

Man’s Best Friend

 

Nancy

 

 

Carol lay on her back, her wrists still bound to the headboard of the bed.  Her skin tingled as Jeff stroked her naked body, gently tracing the pink welts on her breast with his fingers.  He had waited until this soft time to make his proposal, when Carol was just emerging from sub space. 

 

“I think it is time to expand your training a bit,” he said.  “You agree, of course”

 

“Of course,” she replied.  “But what kind of expanding do you have in mind, Sir?”

 

“I met a guy at the SM club who owns a kennel.  I think you will find what he does there very interesting.”

 

“What kind of kennel?” she probed cautiously.

 

“He breeds and trains dogs,” he said.  “Some are especially good with women.  You’ve heard of K-9, haven’t you?”

 

“I have heard of it, Sir.  Does it mean I would have to have sex with a dog?”

 

“Exactly,” He said.  “I’ll arrange everything and take you out for a visit to the kennel.  You agree, of course.”

 

“Yes, Sir,” she answered meekly.  She had questions and reservations, but she was in no mood or position to confront him with them.

 

----------------------

 

Jeff picked Carol up at her apartment on a bright Sunday afternoon.  She wore a simple skirt and blouse, low-heel loafers and little makeup as Jeff had suggested.  He admired her shapely figure as they walked to his car, noting how her long auburn hair glistened in the sun.  They drove out of the city into the countryside.  Jeff turned off the highway onto a gravel driveway, and Carol’s stomach tightened into a knot as she read the sign:  “Ken’s Kennels, Pedigreed Dogs for Sale, Obedience Training, Pet Boarding.”   Is that what I am here for, she wondered, Obedience Training?

 

They parked in front of a white clapboard farmhouse, which had a barn, doghouses and fenced runs behind.  Carol thought business must be good, since there were four other cars parked in front of the house.  As they stepped onto the porch the door opened, and a tall blond man, who looked about 35, came out and greeted Jeff with a hardy handshake.

 

“Sorry we’re a little late,” Jeff said.

 

“No problem.  This lovely lady is certainly worth waiting for.”  The man held out his hand to Carol saying, “I’m Ken, and you must be Carol.  Jeff has told me a little about you.  All good, I should add.”

 

Carol took the proffered hand, curtsied slightly, and smiled, but she was wondering what Jeff had told him.

 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Ken asked her.

 

“Oh, yes!  We want the whole package, just like we discussed.”  Jeff asserted.

 

“I know, but I need to hear it from the girl herself.  Are you up to it, Carol?  You know what we’re talking about.”

 

“Yes, Sir.  its sex with a dog, but just what is in ‘the whole package’?”

 

“It’s sex with a dog, yes, but in an SM context.  You will be restrained.  It may be somewhat stressful.  It may be a little humiliating because you won’t be alone.”

 

“Will I be whipped?”

 

“If needed, and if Jeff approves.

 

“Will I have a safeword?”

 

“Of course.  Your safeword is ‘Doberman,’ which is easy to remember in a kennel.  Just say that, and we’ll stop and talk about it.  Any more questions?”

 

“No, Sir,” she said.   Her mind full of questions that she didn’t know how to ask.

 

“So it’s all agreed!” Jeff announced.

 

“Do you agree, Carol?” Ken asked.

 

“Yes, Sir,” Carol managed to say in a soft voice while looking at the floor of the porch.

 

“Good.  For the rest of the afternoon I’m going to call you ‘slave.’  Come inside, slave, and meet our guests.”  Ken grasped her arm firmly above the elbow and pulled her roughly toward the door.

 

The door opened into a large, sparsely furnished living room.  There was an upholstered couch on either side of the room, a heavy overstuffed chair and ottoman at one end and little else.  A worn carpet covered a portion of the bare wood floor between the two couches.  Two men with a bottle of beer in their hand sat on each of the couches, and all four remained seated as Ken pulled Carol through the door.

 

“You got four,” Jeff commented.

 

“Yes.  As I told you, I have an e-mail list that I invite to showings.  It helps with expenses,” Ken said.  Then in a louder voice he announced, “Gentlemen, this is our guest Master Jeff who has brought us the lovely slave, Carol, the star of our little show.” 

 

Still holding Carol’s arm, he pulled her to the center of the room.  He whispered in her ear.  “Stay right there, slave.  Just turn around and smile sweetly at the guests.  I’ll be right back.”  He slapped her buttocks a bit harder than a friendly pat, and left her standing there.  She turned slowly and smiled at one couch then the other as ordered. 

 

“Take it off!” said one of the men on the couch.  “Yea, show us your tits,” said another.

 

There was a scratching noise like something clawing a hard surface, and then Ken entered the room leading two huge dogs on chain leashes.  Actually, the dogs were leading Ken, pulling him along.  The dogs headed straight toward Carol, pulling hard on their leashes.  One put his paws against her chest and licked her face while the other pushed his nose up under her skirt.  The excited dogs pursued her as she backed away, and she was soon trapped in a corner with both dogs’ heads under her skirt, eagerly licking her thighs.  She tried vainly to hold the skirt down and to push the dogs away.  “Please...  Get these beasts off of me!!” she begged.

 

The six men in the room were apparently amused at her predicament.  Finally Ken pulled the dogs back a short distance, and Carol cowered in the corner as the strong animals strained against their leashes trying to reach her. 

 

“These dogs won’t hurt you, slave,” Ken was reassuring.  “They like you.  They’re just trying to get to know you.  Believe me, slave, they won’t bite.”  He petted the dogs on the head and put his hands in their mouth.

 

“These are Labrador Retrievers, which are good hunting dogs,” he explained to the guests.  “These two are very well trained, not only to hunt ducks, but to hunt women as well, and as you can see they don’t have any inhibitions about it.  It is easy to train a dog to fuck women.  What is hard is training them not to want to do it all the time.  I have lots of women who want to buy a large male dog, but they want to be discrete about it.  They want the dog to be interested in sex only on command.  That takes real hard training, which tends to reduce their sexual performance.  These two Labs haven’t had any of that kind of inhibition training, so I save them for submissive women who can’t object to whatever the dogs want to do.”   

 

The large short-haired Labs were young, healthy and energetic.  One was jet black and the other a golden yellow.  Both were very obviously male.  Gingerly, Carol reached out to pet the dogs on the head, but they insisted on licking her hand instead.  Ken was right.  They showed no inclination to bite.

 

Ken pulled the dogs away and fastened their leashes to a door knob.  Then he knelt and began to put little boots on the dog’s feet.  These were small leather pouches that slipped over the foot and were held in place with a draw string. 

 

“Carol can get undressed while I cover the claws,” Ken said to Jeff.

 

“Strip, slave!” Jeff ordered in that authoritative tone that requires instant obedience.

 

Carol had learned the hard way not to hesitate in obeying such an order.  Immediately she started removing her blouse.  She folded her blouse and skirt and put them on the floor, then, feeling uncomfortably exposed, she faced the corner while she removed her bra, panties and shoes, turning her back to the six fully dressed men and the two eagerly whining dogs.

 

Carol sensed Ken standing behind her.  He grasped her arm tightly and tied the end of a length of soft cotton rope around her wrist with three tight turns.  He did the same to her other wrist, then kneeled and tied similar ropes to her ankles.  About six feet of rope trailed from each wrist and ankle as he led her with a firm grip on her arm to the center of the room. 

 

He told her to sit down in the center of the carpet.  She looked helplessly at Jeff, who was standing beside one of the couches.  He nodded his head in a way that clearly said, “Do it!”  She sat down on the floor, feeling the rough carpet against her buttocks.  Ken tied the ankle ropes to the end legs of one of the couches, spreading her legs apart.  Then he pulled the wrist ropes to the end legs of the couch on the other side of the room, pulling her back down to the carpet.  He tied the ropes to the couch legs forcing Carol to lie in the middle of the floor with arms and legs spread wide.  The ropes were not pulled tight.   She could bend her knees and elbows a bit in what Ken called “wriggle room” as he described the tie to the men on the couches. 

 

Ken took a glass jar and a small paint brush from the mantle, and used the brush to paint her breasts with a viscous sticky fluid from the jar. 

 

“This is my own recipe of honey, peanut butter, beef bouillon and other ingredients.”  He explained to the guests.  “I kept trying different combinations until I found what kept the dogs licking whatever it was on the longest.”  All the while the two dogs were whining and struggling against their leashes.

 

He painted her navel, her toes, and her pussy.  He pushed the brush coated with goo into her vagina.  Then he painted her ears and her nose and mouth.  When he forced the brush between her lips, she discovered that the sticky stuff had a strong, sickly sweet, meaty taste.

 

Ken returned the jar and brush to the mantle, and then released the dog’s leashes from the door knob.  Both dogs made a dash toward the helpless girl and pounced on her naked body.  They pranced over and around her with great excitement, sniffing her all over, licking the sticky goo.  She felt sharp claws beneath the soft leather boots as they scrambled over her body. 

 

The dogs growled angrily at each other, both trying to push their nose between her legs.  It seemed they were going to fight, then the golden dog moved up to her breasts, allowing the black dog to settle in between her legs.  She twisted, wriggled, and squirmed, tugging against the intractable ropes, but there was no escape from the long, smooth, warm, wet tongues that licked and probed incessantly. 

 

As the sticky goo was slowly sucked from her skin the dogs licked harder and probed deeper in search of the syrupy flavor that they obviously craved.  The black dog pushed his long tongue deeper into her vagina, while the golden dog probed her ears and nose, pushing his tongue between her lips.  The dogs were so agile and determined that there was no escaping their eager tongues, no matter how much she rolled her head and twisted her hips.  If anything, her frantic struggles just seemed to encourage them.

 

“I thought the dogs wanted to fuck her,” one of the guests said with a tone of disappointment, “but all they do is lick.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Ken said.  “They want to fuck her in the worst way, but they can’t do it with her lying flat on her back on the floor.”

 

“Then why did you tie her down like that?” the guest asked.

 

“Just a little fore-play,” Ken explained.  “Women need it.  This is not for the dogs.  This is for her.”

 

The dogs continued to lick for a long time, while she squirmed and moaned. Her whole body was vibrating inside in response to the incessant sensuous licking.  It was more than her mind could handle.  She writhed mindlessly on the floor and lost all sense of time.  Her muscles ached from the strain of pulling against the intractable ropes.  She no longer heard the lewd comments from the couches.

 

Finally, when the dogs were losing much of their earlier enthusiasm, Ken pulled them away and chained them once again to the door knob.  He untied the ropes from the couches and pulled Carol unsteadily to her feet with the ropes tied to her wrists.  To Carol the room seemed to be spinning.  It wasn’t a hot day, but her body glistened with sweat--mixed, of course, with dog saliva.  Ken took a drink from a bottle of beer in his hand then offered it to Carol.  She took a sip, but could hardly swallow it.  It made the sickly sweet taste in her mouth all the stronger.  She handed the bottle back, and he put it on the floor.

 

With a firm grip on each of her arms Ken guided her backward toward the heavy overstuffed chair.  When the back of her legs touched the seat, he pushed her down into the chair.  He pulled her arms back around the sides of the chair with the ropes attached to her wrists, and he tied the two ropes together holding her arms around the chair back.. 

 

He retrieved his beer bottle and held it to her lips.  She shook her head, “No.”  He put the bottle down and picked up the ropes tied to her ankles.  He pulled on the ropes, stretching her legs out straight and sliding her buttocks to the front edge of the chair cushion.  Then he walked behind the chair, trailing a rope on either side.  He pulled on the ropes, spreading her thighs apart and drawing her legs backward around the padded sides of the chair and tied them together.    He cinched the arm and leg ropes together tightening them until her arms and legs were wrapped tightly around the chair, holding her body immobile.  He motioned to the men on the couch, who gathered around the chair. 

 

“That’s a nice chair you have there,” one of the men said.  “All the goodies are exposed and she can’t hide a thing.”

 

“It’s good for the dog,” Ken explained. “And I think the missionary position is more intimate than the usual doggie style.  Although doggie  has its good points too, as we shall see.”

 

“Her pussy’s dripping wet,” another man commented.  “How much of that is dog saliva?”

 

“None of it,” Ken said.  “The dogs love cunt juice and have licked a lot of it away.  She’s hot as a firecracker.”

 

Carol’s face flushed hot in response to the crude remarks, and she felt the grinding pangs of humiliation deep in her stomach.  She was acutely aware of how her naked body was obscenely displayed in front of six fully clothed men and two dogs.  She could almost hear her mother’s voice admonishing her to keep her knees together.  She wondered what her mother would think if she could see her now.  She tried to struggle, but her arms and legs were wrapped backward around the padded chair in a way that provided no leverage to pull against the ropes.  Her strong modest impulses were cruelly frustrated by the demonically simple arrangement of four ropes and a chair.

 

“May I touch?” one of the men asked.  Ken looked at Jeff, who said, “Yea, OK.”

 

The man slid his index finger up between Carol’s labia, wetting it, and let it come to rest on her clitoris.  With light pressure he moved it from side to side then up and down.  The man standing beside the chair massaged her breast with one hand squeezing the nipple between his fingers until she winced.  Then the man on the other side did the same with her other breast.

 

Although she tried, Carol couldn’t stop the involuntary movement of her hips as much as the tight ropes would allow.

 

A camera flashed in her face, and then again from a different angle.  Oh dear God, she thought.  I don’t want pictures of this.  Then she remembered that there had been many flashes when she was laying spread eagle on the floor, but she had been too preoccupied by the licking dogs to realize what they were.

 

“Which will it be, slave?  Black or gold?” Ken was standing next to the dogs still leashed to the doorknob.  “Its lady’s choice,” he said.

 

Carol was so overwhelmed by humiliation that she didn’t understand what he meant, and she didn’t respond.

 

“Unless you say different, it will be black,” he said.

 

A moment later she saw the black dog running toward her, and the men moved away to give him room.  He stopped between her legs and sniffed around.  He licked her pussy, and then he stood on his hind legs and rested his front paws on her chest.  He pounded his hips against her pelvis, and she felt his hard penis against her stomach.  Ken reached under the dog and guided the penis to its target.  It slid rapidly in and out as the dog thrust his hips harder and faster than any man she had ever known.  His penis seemed to be growing larger as he continued.  She thought it must be an illusion, but as the dog pushed deeper inside she felt herself filled completely with tissues stretched. 

 

As quickly as he had begun he stopped thrusting and relaxed against her body, panting loudly.  She could feel the rapid pounding of his heart against her chest.  She could feel the hot skin of his stomach pressing against hers.  She could smell the stale sweet odor of his breath blowing in rapid puffs against her face.  She waited for him to leave, but he continued to lay heavy and hot on top of her.  She felt his penis try to pull out, then it stopped.  It felt huge inside of her, as though it were too large to pull out.

 

“He’s finished, but he’s not leaving,” one man said.  “He must like her.”

 

“It’s the knot,” Ken explained.  “Dogs have a large ring around the base of their penis called the knot.  It swells up inside the female and prevents him from pulling out.”

 

“So he’s stuck inside her,” the man laughed.  “For how long?”

 

“Until the knot goes down, probably fifteen minutes or so,” Ken said. 

 

“That’s a long time.  What’s the purpose of it?” the man asked.

 

“I’m not sure,” Ken said.  “It was probably adaptive in the wild.  A bitch in heat has lots of suitors.  If one can hang on to her for a while, it gives his sperm time to do their work.  At least it’s good for us.  There’s a game on TV and we have plenty of beer.”  Ken turned on the television and soon the room was filled with the excited chatter of a sports announcer.

 

The black dog was heavy and hot against her body.  He licked her face and seemed to prefer licking her lips where he apparently found traces of his beloved sticky goo.  She soon gave up trying to escape his aggressive tongue.  Every minute or so he would try to pull out of her, and she could feel the hard swollen knot holding him in. 

 

After what seemed like much longer than fifteen minutes, the black dog withdrew his flaccid penis and walked to Ken’s side.  Ken petted and praised him profusely.  The dog followed Ken into the kitchen where he must have received a reward of some kind.  When they returned, the black dog wandered around the room showing none of his formerly intense interest in the available female body. 

 

The TV went silent.  Ken untied the ropes that were holding Carol’s arms behind the chair and pulled them until she was bending forward almost falling out of the chair.  Then he pulled her wrists to the floor and she slid out of the chair onto her hands and knees.  After releasing the ropes attached to her ankles, he stood beside the heavy ottoman that matched the chair.

 

“Here, slaveie.  Come on girl,” Ken was talking to her like a dog.  She crawled the short distance to the ottoman, which was now in the center of the room between the two couches.  “Put your tits down here, slave,” he patted the top of the ottoman.  “That’s a good girl!” he said, stroking her hair as she bent forward over the ottoman.

 

He pulled her arms around the large short-legged ottoman and threaded the ropes attached to her wrists under the ottoman, around its front legs and up over the back of her neck where he pulled them tight and tied them.  Next he used the ropes from her ankles to bind her knees to the back legs.  She was embracing the bulky foot-stool like a drowning girl clinging to a floating barrel with her head protruding at one end and her hips at the other.

 

“Come on girl.  Open up like a good doggie,” he said while holding a brush covered with sticky goo in front of her mouth.  While she pressed her lips tightly together, he smeared the brush over her mouth and poked it into her nostrils.  The black dog that had been resting beside the couch came over and started licking Carol’s face.  Then Ken released the golden retriever, which had been whining and struggling against his leash making a terrible fuss.

 

The gold dog ran to the tightly bound girl, and she felt his cold nose sniffing her buttocks and between her thighs.  Then he mounted her.  He grasped her waist with his front legs and held on with surprising strength.  He thrust his hips hard and fast against her buttocks and she felt his long hard penis slide easily inside of her as Ken guided it with his hand.  She blushed to think how dripping wet she was.  The dog held her waist tightly and thrust much more deeply than the black dog had done.  The doggie position works much better for the dog, she thought.

 

Carol’s body trembled and quivered involuntarily as wave after wave of strong sensation swept over her.  She opened her mouth wide and allowed the long smooth tongue of the black dog to explore freely inside.  She knew that she screamed, but she had no idea how loud or how many times.  She moaned; she thrashed her hips; she jerked her arms pressing the rope painfully into her wrists.

 

She screamed again and then relaxed completely.  It felt as though all of the strength had been drained from her body.  She slowly regained awareness of what was happening.  She felt the black dog lapping his tongue inside her mouth and she pulled her head away.  He pursued her and continued to lick her tightly closed lips.   The gold dog rested his full weight on her back, and she felt his hot skin and rapid heartbeat.  His knot filled her completely, and produced a strange sensation as he periodically tried to pull it out.

 

Her mind drifted, giving up any attempt to deal with the intense, unfamiliar sensations.  She was aware that the gold dog at last pulled free, and she thought that Ken took him to the kitchen for his reward.  The black dog lackadaisically licked her lips and nose, as she had given up her futile attempts to avoid his tongue.

 

Ken grasped the black dog’s front paws and lifted them to Carol’s back, so that he was standing on his hind legs.  She felt his warm hairless stomach touching her cheek. 

 

“Now, slave, my dogs have done a lot for you and it’s only fair that you should do a little something for them in return.”  Ken said as though reasoning with a child.

 

He lightly stroked the dog’s penis, which was just below Carol’s face, with his fingers, and she watched the pink shaft slowly emerge from its sheath.  It was larger than a man’s, had a blunt end, and was laced with deep purple veins. 

 

“Suck it, slave,” Ken ordered.

 

Carol turned her head away.  There was something repulsive and degrading about the large, hard, wet, ugly, animal penis quivering in front of her face.

 

“I think she needs a little encouragement, Jeff,” Ken said.  “Look on the mantle.”

 

Carol watched as Jeff took a split leather strap from the mantle and walked behind her.

 

“Do what the man says, slave,” he commanded.

 

Trembling, she turned her head further away from the waiting penis.

 

Swattttt!!!  The sharp sting of the taws against her naked buttocks ricocheted through her body and she screamed in surprise. 

 

“Please…    I can’t,” she pleaded.

 

Swattttt!!!   The pain was worse than before, but she suppressed the scream.  “No….  please don’t… “ she mumbled.

 

Swattttt!!!  She quivered all over within her tight restraints…   then she managed to say, “Doberman!”

 

Ken held up his hand, and Jeff lowered the fierce, split-leather taws which was preparing for another strike.  Ken pushed the dog away and gently stroked Carol’s long auburn hair, which was moist with sweat.

 

“What’s the matter, baby?” Ken asked in a sympathetic voice.

 

“I can’t do it,” she said.  “Its ugly.”

 

“Its just a dog’s cock,” he said.  “Jeff told me that you like to suck cock.”

 

“Yes, Sir.  But this is somehow different.  I just can’t do it.”

 

“Okay.  We want this all to be consensual, so I’ll give you a choice.  If you don’t want to suck the dogs’ cocks, then you can suck the men’s cocks instead.  Which do you choose, slave?”

 

“I don’t want the dog, Sir.”

 

“Then you don’t have to do it.  You can do something else instead.  It is as simple as that.”

 

He untied the ropes binding her knees to the legs of the ottoman, leaving them still attached to her ankles.  He tied one of the ropes to a couch leg, pulling the ankle a little further out than it was.  Then he tied the other rope to the couch on the other side of the room, pulling her ankles still further apart.  He undid the knot at the back of her neck and pulled her up from the ottoman, which he shoved out of the way.  She was kneeling in the middle of the room with legs spread apart.

 

“Put both hands over your mouth, slave,” he ordered.  When she obeyed, he tied the two ropes from her wrists together behind her neck, wrapped them in opposite directions around her neck, and then tied the ends of the ropes to her ankles.  The ropes from her neck to her ankles kept her from bending forward, and the knot behind her neck hobbled her hands so she could not move them far from her face.  He dabbed a brush of goo between her legs, and both dogs came over with renewed interest.

 

While the dogs licked her buttocks and thighs from behind, the six men stood in a rough row in front of her, jockeying for position.  They began to open their zippers and to expose erect penises. 

 

“No need to push,” Ken said.  “There’s plenty of time.  Everyone will get their turn.”

 

And in fact they did, and they were all different.  Some grabbed her hair and pushed deep into her throat, and others massaged her breasts and pinched her nipples.  Some came in her mouth, and others pulled out and squirted semen on her face.  Some required help from her hands and took a while, while others came almost on contact.  When they were finished she was left kneeling in the middle of the room with semen dripping from her face down the front of her body, and dogs licking her buttocks.  The camera flashed again and again.

 

Ken untied the ropes from her wrists, and she put her hands to the floor and lay down on her stomach.  When the ropes were removed from her ankles, she curled up in a ball, the comforting, protective fetal position.  The dogs continued to sniff around her thighs.  She trembled all over, trying to regain control of her thoughts.

 

Ken leashed the dogs and led them away.  When he returned he touched Carol lightly on the shoulder and said, “You did great, Carol, and now you have some memories.  The bathroom is all yours if you want to freshen up.”  She lifted a hand, which he took and helped her to her feet.  He put an arm around her waist and guided her toward the bathroom.  A few minutes later he knocked on the bathroom door and said, “I have your clothes here.”  She opened the door a crack and he slipped the clothes through and laid them on the floor.

 

She rinsed her mouth several times, then took a long hot shower.  Still she could not get all of the dog and goo smell and taste off.  She combed her wet hair as best she could, then put on her clothes.

 

When she came out Jeff and Ken were on the couch watching TV, and the four guests were gone.  Ken held up a tan tee shirt for her to see.  Over the left pocket was embroidered “Ken’s Kennels” and under that were two dogs, a black and a golden lab.

 

“This is for you,” he said.  “You’ve earned it, and I hope it will bring you pleasant memories.  You may come back if you wish.  There are always new tricks to keep you amused.”

 

“I shall think about it, Sir, but I think I am ready to go home right now.”

 

Jeff made effusive goodbyes and promised to return, and at last they were in the car and on the road.  In the car she leaned against the door and closed her eyes.  Her mind was spinning.  It had lasted a long time, but now it was all blurred together.  She needed to sort out the memories. 

 

Jeff pushed her skirt up and slid his hand between her thighs.  Preoccupied, she didn’t respond.  He pinched the inside of her thigh somewhat harder than playfully.  “I’m horney as hell,” he said.  “We’ll go straight to my place.  We can get something to eat later.”

 

“Not today,” she said.  “I’m exhausted and I need to straighten things out.  I want to go home.”   Then she added, “Alone.”

 

“Did you forget something, slave?” he asked with an accusing tone.

 

“I’m sorry, Sir,” She said.  “I wasn’t thinking.  I just want to go home alone, Sir”

 

“That’s better,” he said.  So what’s so bad about going to my place?

 

“I have a headache, Sir.  And I’m just not up to it right now,” she explained. 

 

“You were sure a hot little bitch fucking those two dogs!” he yelled.  “So what’s bad about going home with me?”

 

“I’m sorry, Sir.  I need to go home now.”

 

The fact is that at this juncture he needed her more than she needed him.  In the end he grudgingly drove her home in silence.

 

She put her clothes in the wash and took another long, long shower.  She brushed her teeth and rinsed with mouthwash several times, but a faint taste of the sweet sticky goo remained.  She got a glass of milk and turned on the TV, but she couldn’t attend to the tube any more than she could stomach the milk.  So she went to bed.

 

She lay half awake, squirming in her bed, as slow-motion reruns of her encounter with the dogs played on the fantasy screen in her mind.  She experienced again every little detail in the vicarious safety of her mind. 

 

Suddenly she sat upright in bed, wide awake, trembling all over.  “The pictures!” she thought.  “Who has the pictures?”  She looked at the clock.  It was two-thirty in the morning.  Without thinking twice, she reached for the phone and dialed Jeff’s number.  After five or six rings, his sleepy voice came on the line.

 

“What about the pictures?” she asked.  “Ken has the pictures, doesn’t he?”

 

“No.  He took them with my digital camera.  I have them, and downloaded them to my computer when I got home.  They came out good.”

 

“Do they show my face?”  Her voice betrayed anxiety as she asked the crucial question.

 

“They sure do, Honey.  You won’t believe your blissful expression while you’re fucking those god dammed dogs.”

 

“You’ll have to delete them.”

 

“I want to keep them.  You know, just to remind me what a dog-fucking bitch you can be.”

 

“I can’t have pictures like that out where they could get on the internet and who knows who might see them.”

 

“They’re safe with me, dear.  I won’t share ‘em with anybody.”

 

“I want to watch you delete them,” she said, knowing how easy it would be for him to make copies.

 

“Okay, if that’s what you want, Honey, but nothing is free.  You’ll have to earn it.”

 

“What do I have to do?”

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll think of something.  I want you here tomorrow night.  Or since its almost morning I guess that’s tonight.”

 

“Very well, Sir.  Shall I come for dinner?”

 

“No.  After dinner,” he said.  I want you bathed, fed and beautiful, at seven sharp, ready to play.  You’ve pissed me off, so you’d better be good.  No more of that headache shit.”

 

“I’ll be good, Sir.  Then we’ll delete the pictures?”

 

“We’ll delete a picture!” he said. “There are at least eight good pictures of your face, and you’re going to have to earn every one.”

 

“I see.”

 

“Now get some sleep.  You’ll need it,” he said.  Then he hung up.