WARNING: The chapters in this contain
scenes of graphic sex involving lesbianism,
masturbation, mechanical sex acts,
bestiality, and bondage, all with strong
undercurrents of pain, and, if you can
believe it, romance. In code, that is [f ff
fd ffdd mech bd pain rom]. If subject
matter of this nature does not interest you,
do not read any farther.
All events in this are fictional.
(DUH!) All the characters in this are
fictional. This is a fantasy, i.e. a place
where physical acts and human responses are
not limited to or necessarily based in
reality. Therefore, some acts and responses
described are physically impossible or
physiologically improbable. Do not try them
yourself, especially alone. This is
intended for the salacious entertainment of
consenting adults, not as an instructional
manual. Again, do not try to do any of the
things described in this story. You will
injure yourself or your partner.
If you are under 18 years of age, go away.
This will burn your eyeballs.
If material of a strong sexual nature is
prohibited where you are, go away.
By continuing, the reader accepts all
responsibility for any disgust, revulsion,
jail sentences, or pleasure that result from
reading this story.
You have been warned!
That said, enjoy!..:)
NightShade
*******
Cindy's New Friends
By NightShade.
Chapter 3
Barely able to open her eyes sometime later,
Cindy at first thought she had been
abandoned, as she appeared to be alone. On
the one hand, she was relieved she was still
alive and that she had not been eaten by the
big bad wolf. Well, actually, she had been
`eaten,' but Cindy was too na‹ve to
understand that play on words. On the other
hand, she was disappointed that her first
`lover' had abandoned her.
She wondered that she could think of such a
wild creature - an animal! - as her lover in
such an off-handed manner, but somehow the
tenderness of the big had touched her
deeply. Of course, its tongue had touched
her just as deeply. Yes, it had been her
first lover.
She had been lying semi-conscious for some
time, recuperating from her multiple orgasms
in the warm afternoon sun. The devilish
tongue was no longer plaguing her. She
realized she missed the feeling of that
long, rough tongue exciting her tender
tissues and subconsciously decided right
then and there that she was going to
experience those feelings again, no matter
what.
She raised herself on one elbow to get up
and go back into the cottage. She glanced
around the small clearing. She was not
alone! The big black was still with
her, sitting quietly just off the towel by
her feet, watching her with its beautiful
blue eyes.
Taking the opportunity to get a better look
at the who had just introduced her to
paradise, she was relieved to notice two
things: First, it was not a wolf, but a
beautiful dog, and second, it was definitely
a "he". He had a sturdy collar around his
neck. Not a wild rabid animal, at least.
She wondered if she could move, now that the
dog was through with his feast between her
legs. She got slowly to her knees without
being bitten or growled at. She knelt
facing the big dog. She reached out a
tentative hand to pet him.
"Good boy, good boy," she cooed. "Nice
doggy." They hadn't been allowed to have
pets in the orphanage, and it showed in her
awkward strokes.
The just watched her with those
intelligent eyes, ears alert, a curious
expression on his face.
"It's almost as if you're laughing at me,"
said Cindy. "I wonder what your name is?"
Reaching out with both hands, she caught at
the dog's collar. The tag jangled brightly
as she turned it around to read it.
"MAX," was the only word on the side she
facing her.
"SHEFFIELD ESTATES," was inscribed on the
other side of the tag.
"So, `Max', you live up at the Sheffield
place, huh?"
Max' ears twitched at the sound of his name,
and his magical tongue slipped out the side
of his mouth as he `woofed' lightly. His
head cocked slightly to one side once more.
"You understand me, don't you?" she said.
She began to run her hand down his side,
feeling the soft, fur over his
powerful muscles. She moved closer to him,
wrapped her arms around his neck, and hugged
his soft fur against her bare skin.
Max placed his regal head on her shoulder
and patiently allowed this familiarity from
the small female human. He seemed to be
biding his time, waiting for some kind of
signal or command from the naked girl.
His fur was so soft, so thick, so
delightfully ticklish on her skin. Cindy
turned slightly and her bare swung
against the dog's side. Luscious tingles
passed through her chest.
"You're like a living bearskin rug," she
whispered to the stoic animal. She held him
in her arms for a long time, until she felt
the coolness of the late afternoon raise
goose flesh on her bare arms. She was very
thirsty, as well.
Rising to her feet, she started into the
cottage. She remembered the towels with a
snap of her fingers and went back to get
them. Max followed her movements with his
eyes, then, when she finally entered the
cottage, followed on her heels.
Feeling the soft brush of fur on her thigh,
Cindy sighed. What had happened to her
should have distressed her, and she knew it.
She had enjoyed it, more than she wanted to
admit to herself. She wanted to be mad at
the dog, at her dog, but couldn't be. He
was just an doing what came
naturally, right? She couldn't blame
herself for what had happened, either.
Besides, it had felt so good. It couldn't
be really wrong, could it? She would just
have to watch out and not let him get to her
again. But it had felt sooo good. Well,
maybe they could do it just a little.
Going over to the sink, Cindy got herself a
glass of water. She had lost a lot of
fluids with her activities out in the sun,
and she was thirsty. A sharp "woof" from
Max caught her attention.
"Want some water, boy?"
"Woof", Max barked.
"You really do understand," she marveled.
Getting a large plastic bowl, she filled it
with cool water and set it on the floor for
him. She watched him lap up the water with
his talented tongue, his muscular frame
attracting her once more and she found
herself petting him. Leaning over him, she
ran her hands down his sides, over his ribs
and his firm mid section. Over and over she
petted and caressed him. On one of her more
vigorous sweeps, her hand brushed up against
the male equipment hanging between his legs.
Curiosity got the better of her and, as he
didn't snap at her or move away, she
continued her exploration of his genitals on
the next pass, this time lingering to
explore softly. At first, it was just
there, a tough-skinned, thick, fuzzy-haired
tube and two huge balls.
Max stood quietly during this intimate
inspection, not wanting to interrupt his new
fuck-toy's tender exploration with her
innocent hands. He could smell she had
never been marked before, or at least for a
long time, and he was anxious to be the
first to mark her. He had had others like
her before, though, and knew he had to be
patient and let her get primed and ready
first. Smoothly, he sat down on his
haunches and turned his hindquarters to
expose his genitals to her.
"So, you like that, don't you boy," she
cooed, grinning mischievously at him.
Bolder, now that she had his cooperation,
she grasped the dark tube gently with
her whole hand and began stroking with more
vigor. It seemed to stiffen and swell in
her hand.
"OOOOOHHH," she gasped.
She gently stoked the skin until the
bright pink head of his sex organ poked its
head out. Wide eyed and fascinated, she
pulled harder and faster on the dog's
slippery pink meat, coaxing it completely
out of hiding. The lewd sight of the
throbbing organ was having a strangely
thrilling effect on her own body. The tight
little buds of her nipples popped back up to
their excited state. The itch in her crotch
was back, too, now worse than ever.
"OOOHHH Max, boy. I need you to lick me.
Lick me, boy."
Oddly, though she didn't think about it at
the time, that appeared to be a command the
dog understood. With another "woof" he
lowered his head and prodded her knees
apart. Knocked off balance by his prodding,
she rolled on her side, face to face with
his still growing penis. She never lost her
tender grip on the slippery organ.
Max's insistent nose urged her willing legs
to open wider. She was completely exposed
to the dog, and she had the tiniest of
second thoughts. The first swipe of his
rough tongue brought all the good feelings
flooding back to her.
Cindy hesitated for a second longer,
reflecting that this time she was not being
forced to do this, but that she had actually
asked Max for it. Any second thoughts she
may have had vanished with the second long
lick of his skillful tongue.
This time, because of his position over her,
Max' tongue was moving from top to bottom
and her clit was being stimulated at the
beginning of each glorious swipe. At this
rate, she knew it wouldn't take her long to
climax, and she rolled over onto her back in
anticipation of her pending orgasm.
Max smoothly rose to his feet as she rolled
and skillfully managed to keep his erection
in contact with her hand. Cindy's hand
automatically curled and grasped the slick
pink flesh. Max's standing position now
brought the tip of his cock right in
front of her face.
"What a beautiful penis," she thought,
although it was the first erect penis of any
species she had ever seen. So soft, yet so
hard. Just as she had imagined. A burst of
passion surged through her as Max' tongue
slipped between her lips, and she
released her hand from the dog's prick.
Max stopped licking her and turned his head
to look back at her. He deliberately moved
his hind feet to a position on each side of
her head and suggestively pushed the narrow
tip of his long prick against her lips.
"Keep licking, come on boy, come on, keep
licking."
Max just wagged his prick in her face in
answer, slapping it against her cheek
lightly.
"What do you want, boy?", she asked. The
dog's organ was brushing her nose, the musky
smell sending illicit thrills down her
spine.
"Oh, that would be dirty," she thought as
she realized what the wanted from her in
exchange. But if it would get Max to lick
her, it would be worth it, wouldn't it? She
was torn.
A sudden nip by Max's sharp teeth on her
inflamed flesh answered her dilemma.
"OOOOUUUCCCHHH", she cried, more in surprise
than pain, and, as her mouth opened wide,
the head of the dog's cock slid neatly into
her mouth.
"MMMMFFFF," she squealed in mock anger. The
swelling, slippery meat filling her
mouth muffled any words she could have said.
As she half-heartedly tried to spit out the
invading member, she noticed that the taste
was curiously pleasant. It was like nothing
she had tasted before, but she knew she
could like this. Tangy, interesting. It
didn't taste like her own juices, but it was
intriguing.
The sensation of the smooth cock sliding
into her mouth was not bad, either. It was
wickedly exciting, even if it was perverted
to do with a dog. It felt so good and,
besides, who would know? She wouldn't tell
anyone, and for sure, Max wouldn't talk!
The next lingering swipe of Max's tongue
removed all doubts from her mind.
Electrifying jolts exploded from her
massaged clit. The blinding sensations
flooded through her, and she automatically
started to suck on the warm cock in her
mouth. She tipped her head back a bit,
arching her back, trying to make the angle
more comfortable. This way she could suck
more of her new toy into her mouth. Max
lowered his body even more, urging all of
the stiff cock into her suctioning mouth.
The firm narrow head banged up against her
tonsils once, twice, and the third time it
slid past that soft barrier and went down
her throat.
Cindy stiffened in panic at this unexpected
intrusion until she found she could breathe
around the shaft. Once she finally stifled
her gag reflex, she found she actually
enjoyed the feeling of the slick cock going
up and down in her throat.
Max reared back and pulled his prick out of
her throat so that only the head was in her
mouth. Clamping down hard with her lips,
she increased her suction on the tapered
head of the dog's prick. She instinctively
kept her sharp teeth away from the tender
flesh in her mouth.
Her vigorous on his cock head
apparently pleased the big dog, as he
started to lick her with renewed
energy. Gradually the knot at the
base of his cock began to swell up to its
full size. Thinking quickly, she wrapped
both her hands around the long shaft of the
prick in front of her face. Max began to
fuck his hips in and out, fucking her face
and throat with abandon. Cindy kept up the
strong suction as best she could and
tightened her grip on the shaft.
Max was still licking her slit, occasionally
using his lower jaw to put pressure directly
on her excited clit. His fucking motions
became faster, then almost frenetic, until,
with a yelp, he drove his hips forward and
began spewing white into her mouth
and down her throat. If she hadn't had a
good grip on the knot, it would have hit her
in the mouth, perhaps even hurting her.
Cindy didn't know what was happening, but
his cock was planted firmly in her mouth and
she had no option but to the small
flood of sticky fluid. Besides her body was
reacting to the dog's orgasm with one of its
own, helped along by the sharp teeth gnawing
on her puffy little magic button. She was
going entirely on her basic instincts as she
sucked and swallowed. Only a little bit of
the cream escaped to dribble down the
side of her cheek.
Max allowed the thrashing human to calm down
before he stopped caressing her dripping
slit. It was time for him to go home, but
he patiently waited for her to go to sleep
before he left her side, as he had been
trained to do. His Mistress would need him
soon. As the female he had just marked fell
asleep, he quietly got up and padded out the
still open door, leaving the naked human in
an exhausted slumber on the kitchen floor.
Max headed obediently home, somewhat
dissatisfied. He had left his mark on this
new toy, but not as he had intended. He had
never known a female human who would allow
him to mark their mouth until much
later. It was almost as if this new fuck-
toy didn't know what to do. But any deeper
pondering of the recent events was beyond
the mental capability of the handsome dog.
He was already thinking of tonight's
playtime with his Mistress.
With a final quick look back at the still
form in the cottage, he disappeared into the
lengthening shadows of the surrounding
forest. He would see this human fuck-toy
again, of that he was sure.
-=-=-=-=-=-==-==-===-=
Quan-Loc hung suspended from a low branch
where he could observe the small cottage in
the woods. His coloration and surgical
adaptations hid him from all eyes, ears and
noses, even those as keen as the that
passed within 5 feet of him.
Quan-Loc was a baumkind, or "tree child,"
the result of years of systematic genetic,
surgical and pharmacological mutilations,
going back even before the war time
atrocities of the Japanese. Many
generations of failures had died when the
adaptations forced upon them had failed to
integrate into their bodies. Life in his
part of the world was cheap.
His people, an isolated primitive tribe deep
in the jungles, had adapted to tree living.
As a result of thousands of years of
biological selection, the largest males in
his tribe were only 3 feet tall, and most
were much shorter and lighter. When the
tribe was first discovered by marauding
tribes, they were initially not thought of
as adults, but a tribe of children. Thus,
the first German missionaries to visit the
area had called the tribe "Baum Kinder."
It was an invading warlord who first
saw their value as observers or spies.
Small, quick, agile and preferring to be off
the ground, they quickly became coveted for
their usefulness. Because of their small
stature, it was easy to overlook their
humanity, and the inevitable ruthlessness of
human nature soon lead to their captivity,
near extinction, forced breeding, and
finally, surgical experimentation and
mutilations.
Quan-Loc, like his brothers and male
cousins, (females were raised for breeding
only) had been surgically enhanced for
climbing. His most visible features were
two rows of 3 inch spikes from each of his
wrists to his elbows and from each of his
knees to his ankles, angled in such a way as
to maximize his climbing capability. These
spikes were normally retracted into sheaths
under his skin. By flexing certain muscles,
he could move them out, like claws. Of
course, he lost the function of two fingers
and two toes to achieve this, but the
scientists felt this was an acceptable trade
off.
The spikes were not metal, which is
notorious for causing infections and being
rejected by the body. Instead, the
scientists had developed an almost
indestructible ceramic powder and silk
material that was similar to Western carbon
fiber materials. The molecular thin edges
and points of these "ceramasilk" spikes
could find purchase in every surface known
to man, except polished titanium. Quan-Loc
could climb up any building every build,
including those with all glass window
surfaces. His claws, as he thought of them,
also made lethal weapons, if a baumkind was
ever cornered.
His most radical adaptation, however, was
the least visible. It was also the most
recent, having stemmed from the extensive
use of dogs by the Americans during the Viet
Nam war. A massive development and
experimentation program had resulted in
hundreds of dead baumkind. The end result
was a mind-boggling leap of evolutionary
development, but whether that leap was
forward or backward was dependent on your
view of Human Rights.
Quan-Loc was one of the first of these new
breed, for that is precisely what he was.
Between the genetic tinkering in the labs on
a chromosomal level, intra-uterine chemical
manipulations, and further surgical and
chemical mutilations immediately following
birth, Quan-Loc was, for all intents and
purposes, invisible to detection by anything
other than the most sensitive infrared
devices.
Genetic tinkering had removed his sweat
glands, making him undetectable by smell.
The resulting skin from that and some intra-
uterine chemical agents was thicker, more
like a leathery hide. He required
moistening when first born, but eventually
the skin developed a toughness that
prevented moisture loss. It also hardened
eventually to a point he would be unable to
move, or even breathe, but Quan-Loc had been
spared that information.
Genetic tinkering had also lowered his body
temperature. In fact, he was nearly cold-
blooded, adapting his body temperature to
the ambient temperature. This had made him
much more fragile physically, but nearly
impossible to detect by a heat signature.
The hide-like skin had proven useful in
another way, as well. Immediately after
birth, two subcutaneous tubes were formed
that ran down his cheeks and neck to a point
in the back of his head just below the base
of his neck. There the surgeons formed a
large subcutaneous pocket. Small slits,
like gills were created and repeatedly
opened and re-opened until scarred
permanently open.
When the tubes, pouch and gills were ready,
Quan-Loc's nostrils were sealed and re-
routed into the tubes. He was trained from
that point on to breath out through his
nose, in through his mouth. Inhaling
through his nose was now fatal, as there was
a toxic chemical absorbent in the pocket
that "cleaned" his breath of carbon dioxide
and other detectable chemicals. Small flaps
in the tubes acted as one-way valves, but
these were not foolproof.
Quan-Loc was the perfect information
gathering machine. Small, undetectable, and
intelligent.
There was one other small piece of
information that Quan-Loc was not made aware
of - puberty was fatal. Scientists were
working feverishly to determine which of
their manipulations it was that caused the
males to go berserk and then, well,
literally explode from the uncontrollable
blood pressure spike, but for Quan-Loc and
his cousins, their first hard-on would be
their last.
Blissfully unaware of that information, Quan-
Loc prepared his report in the abbreviated
code he had been taught. A push of the
button sent a burst transmission to the spy
satellite that, thanks to the incredible
stupidity of the Clinton administration, the
Chinese military had finally been able to
launch last year.
Waiting silently for his instructions, Quan-
Loc watched the small cottage for any
further movement. A slight vibration
signaled the receipt of his new instructions
- return to base.
Like a memory, he moved quickly through the
trees toward the special trailer deep
in the woods. No roads or paths lead to the
small building that had been dropped into
place during the night by helicopter. Only
his keeper lived there with him, a wizened
old who prepared his food and cleaned up
after him. Quan-Loc grinned to himself as
he thought of the man, who was terrified
of his claws. Maybe he would cut him again
tonight. It was so fun to watch him bleed
and hear him yell.
But what would you expect from a 10-year psychopath?
End of Chapter
|
|
