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It has been another long week and I had finally gotten back home, the only greeting I get from my German shepherd, Dante. Of course there was some tidying up to do, but that doesn't take too long when you've had the practice and you take some shortcuts. A lot of people look forward to the weekend, but in reality I don't have that much to do really; maybe watch a film, browse the internet, go out with friends? As it turned out on that particular weekend, my friends were busy or had other commitments. My collection of films? Yeah, that's why they're a collection – I've probably watched each of them at least six times and finally decided to slot in the corner. So, in the end, the internet is really my only choice, but I was hardly in the mood for that. Nearly four months ago, I broke with my ex of five years and I had been taking it pretty hard. The tearful nights were done after the first two weeks, but I was still stuck with this void in my life that didn't easily fill. Without telling you too much about my life, I work pretty hard during the day, even if it is a desk job, I still have to be in charge of a lot of things. Simply put, when I get home, I want to forget all those responsibilities and forget what I'm in charge of; I want to be thrown on the bed and mounted. Actually that's not it – I'm just being modest – I want to be fucked roughly and taken cheaply; college pussy pics I want to be left spread and gasping with his cum leaking out of me as if I was a slut he'd just finished with. It's not pretty, it's not polite, and there isn't much thought for preserving dignity, but somehow I get off on that; somehow I'd find a strange freedom in surrendering my dignity just to be used for his satisfaction. I'd never admit that to anybody of course, not even my ex. But he got that part right, even without me having to confess it to him – spanked me, bit me, fucked me whilst talking dirty filthy to me, used me like a whore, and when he was done, collapsed on his side of the bed and left me to mine. He didn't in the beginning, but he learnt I wasn't the cuddle-afterwards type (I want some cold air on my body after something like that, dammit!). Best of all, he wasn't a jerk or an asshole (the breakup was complicated, and I totally understand our positions, but that didn't make it any easier to bear). So there I was, having uncorked a bottle of wine, lying on the couch with Dante (named by my ex, in case you're wondering at the silly name) warming my feet as I try to do another watch of Sex and the City, except this time around I'm finding it somewhat tame. I think I managed one episode, but the two glasses of wine hasn't made it any more interesting for me. In fact I'm at the bottom end of boredom. A few minutes later and my laptop springs to life and I'm looking for anything that's going to excite my libido. A lot of porn out there is pretty boring, being made for men as it is – cheesy pick up lines/corny scenario, blow job and/or muff dive, repetitive fucking, insert generic feminine moans that the woman is TOTALLY not having the time of her life. Facial. Seriously. Either way, I think you get the idea that none of this is doing anything for me. At any rate, a lot of porn isn't known for it's mentally stimulating value, so I start to look for anything that might give me a little more buzz. I was on my third glass of wine, so I'm little hazy on what I was actually looking for (I dunno, maybe tentacles, aliens, something non-human, can't quite remember) that finally led me to a dog-on-girl clip. I'm not new to bestiality in porn – I know what it entails, seen the pictures and clips, done the 'oh, gross!' sounds. I think the difference with this one was that it was amateur/home-made – just the dog and the girl with her camera. The angles were bad, and you never really got to see her face, but I distinctly remember thinking that it's strangely intimate. There's a certain charm about amateur work, despite it's quality – people enjoying themselves and wanting the world to see (at least that's what I think). It was one of the 5 – 6 minute clips, obviously cut and edited to remove what the wasn't desired, but I watched it several times, getting more and more aroused with each play-through. This dark-haired skank, who had absolutely no reason to, was moaning in earnest whilst this dog was boning her (or at least she was faking it very convincingly – I think some pornstars could learn!). Inch after inch of veiny red dog-cock slipping in and out of her slit with silk-like easy. In it's enthusiasm, the poor mutt slipped free a couple of times, but a few moments later and little guidance and her hairy cunt was being stuffed again. It was the first time in a long time that I hadn't skipped through a porn clip, hadn't clicked along the scanning bar looking for the best bits. From 0:00 minutes to 6:00 minutes, I watched through it. And then a second time and a third time. I considered going for one more, but I was quickly becoming a bag of frustration. My first thought was that it was time to pull out the dildo and get buzzing. As if I hadn't done that on many nights and didn't know shaved redhead pussy the end result – orgasm without satisfaction. Considering the clip, I had to take an involuntary glance at Dante curled up on the carpet. It was a good time to laugh at myself for considering it, before rolling my eyes and chastising myself for being drunk. Yeah, it was time to go to bed and by the time my head hit the pillow, the wine would do the rest and I'd wake up in the morning with my libido reset. Except I wasn't getting any sleep. Some hours later, an amount I can't even recall clearly, I was still looking at the wall, or the ceiling, or anything I didn't care about and growing increasingly pissed at nothing in particular. Finally I gave in and tried the dildo, slipping out of my panties and setting the electric devil to do its work as I groped myself. I started to feel good. For about three minutes. It really wasn't working. I tossed it away and kicked off the blankets in frustration, lying there, my hair wild and half naked from the waist down, my baby doll hitched up. I was hardly sure what I was waiting for, just lying there looking at the ceiling pissed, and probably looking a little deranged as well. The silence in the room was interrupted by the sounds of lapping before I realised that Dante was licking away at the damn dildo at which point I snapped to reprimand him. It occurs to me now that had I not been watching k9-porn earlier, I would have probably thrown something at him or rounded on him angrily. But at the point I realised the damn mutt was just licking the dildo for nothing – the damn thing was being plunged into me only a minute or two ago – and all my sexual secretions were still on it. My walls gave an unexpected contraction. Jesus. I scrubbed my hand through my messy hair realising I was actually considering it. The room was silent and except the low hum of the fridge and the tick of clock. It occurs to me that when you're horny enough, being alone actually makes you feel pretty bold. My nearest neighbours was a probably less than a few meters away, but with a wall between us, they might as well have been on the other side of the world. The next thing to come was paranoia. What if someone bugged my home? Secret cameras? Something that would let this get out? *Fuck, what if God is watching or something? I think I needed a good half an hour before I regained control and convinced myself to stop being silly. Dante had left the fake cock and was curled up on the carpet. I had to laugh at the thought if he even had a hint what he had licked; an ordinary guy could have been bribed to lick any resembling a cock. Of course Dante probably didn't care about that sort of thing, and probably wouldn't care anymore about what kind of pussy would service his Yeah, I gave myself a good couple of slaps to the face at that point, though it was more out of heated embarrassment than reprimand. If you're going to do it, then fucking do it or go to sleep! I told myself ruthlessly. I was alone and not a person in the world would know, but I could feel the unsteady beat of my heart without having to set my hand on my chest. A few minutes later, the laptop was open on my mattress, that raunchy clip flickering and my fingers caressing my little love-bean, determined to vent my perverse thoughts through orgasm and put the damn thing behind me. All I succeeded in doing was making my slit wet and leaving me more frustrated than ever. I slammed the laptop shut and got off the bed, stalking to the living room where I stood there a few feet away from Dante who perked up at my appearance. I probably must have seemed annoyed since he wasn't his usually jovial self, looking as though decided whether he should leave or come to me. Under his eyes, I was slowly becoming aware that I wasn't wearing panties and that my baby doll barely even covered my damn ass – I didn't even have to bend over for my pussy to be visible. Once again, I blasphemed mentally, followed by a verbal litany of fucks. I paced and gritted my teeth, all to little effect. Well, you've always been something of a slut, said a little voice in the back of my head as I thought about my sexual preferences. The more I thought on that, the more the two seemed to come together – the rough fucking and being taken cheaply; being mounted and taken; nothing polite and an utter lack to the preservation of dignity. What if he cums in me? I challenged. It's not as if anything would happen, came the returning answer, and it isn't as if you can't force him out. Was it the devil of lust at my side, or maybe just my own dark half? But I felt like a savage as I pulled the chemise off and threw it on the couch. I thought Dante would run as I stalked towards him, but then I turned my back to him and planted myself on all fours, presenting my pussy. God, I'm pretty sure the wine was supplying half the courage at the time, though all I really remember feeling then was impatience. Is it something a canine is preprogrammed to do when someone gets down on all fours, or was it something to do with pheromones? I think Dante pretty much lost any trepidation he had. He came, wagging his tale like an idiot, sniffing around and generally doing anything except what I was expecting him to do and pissing me off in the process. I think he got the message at last as I felt his furry form clamber atop my presented hind quarters. I thought about shaking him off at the point, that all this was stupid and that I was being stupid for doing something like this. I'm not even sure why I stayed there on my knees and elbows as I felt his hips starting to stab, his rapid panting just behind my ear and his forepaws digging on my thighs. Shit. What am I getting myself int If I was going to think of anything else, my ability to think just ceased as Dante found his mark and the intimate entrance to my body. I gritted my teeth and clenched. It wasn't unpleasant. Not exact. More like strange. That and the fact that I was being mounted by my fucking dog. I barely felt the tip, but I guess the word dogged persistence comes from somewhere and with each stabbing thrust made, a little bit more was finding its way in, despite the reluctance of my body. Have you ever felt a dog's cock? It's already slippery all by itself, like a man's cock that been soaking in precum, or maybe secreting it from every pore, and twice as hot to the touch. It was almost like raw slippery muscle. My cunt might not have been producing any lubrication, but Dante didn't really need it. With or without my reluctance, he was going to find a way in. I must have been more tense than I thought I was, because I was starting to cramp. Fuck, if I let go right now well, there was no two ways about it – I'd be filled with dog cock in an instant. Why the hell am I doing this? Whatever the case, the rising severity of the cramp was starting to really become uncomfortable. I had to let go. Dante, who had worked himself almost have way with his rapid-fire thrusts, suddenly slid in to full length. I grunted. Most humans savour the moment. Dante had no such thoughts apparently, because he was already pulling out for another thrust. My body quivered with every thrust he made. There was none of the heavy collision of bodies, just a relentless drive that went on and on. I'd like to say it was surprising to have a dog's dick inside me – I mean, isn't that against nature or something. But then again, if I could stuff myself with a piece of plastic or a vegetable, why couldn't a dog's cock go in the same way? Because a pussy is made for taking care of cocks, a small voice hissed at me. Any cock. I swore silently to myself. I had to look around the room. It was as though thousands of eyes were on me. But of course there was no one. The room was empty except for Dante and his human bitch. It was somehow easier to think of myself that way; if I had to retain full human identity, I don't think I could have dealt with it as well. I lowered my head to the floor and groaned, not so much in the pleasure afforded by Dante's thrusts, but that feeling of nostalgia – the freedom that comes with the complete loss of inhibitions – to be able to call myself a slut and know it's true without shame or guilt. Yes. Even for little of this, I could accept to be Dante's bitch for a little while. Finally, I could feel the trickle of exhilaration coming through. I knelt there on the ground, my head lowered to the floor between my hands, my ass raised in the air as a stupid mutt had his way with me, and I was finally starting to gratify in it. I was finally in a small exclusive club, I reasoned. How many women can claim they did this? How many can claim they had the courage to do this? I demanded to myself, hyping my ego. I had to sneer as I looked blindly ahead through the locks of my hair that had fallen across my face. Hah! Here I am thinking I'm so fucking important whilst I'm being fucked by dog. My sneer deepened to a private savage grin as I heaped debasement upon myself. Might have know I would always end up as a slut. You don't demand things like I have from a nice man who respected and cared about you – I probably scared him away because he could *see** that deep down what I was. A whore. And now you've been so desperate for sex, you've opened your pussy to dumb mutt that's using you to get his kicks. Does a dog even know about kick? Probably not. So really, he's just using my pussy in blind lust to pass on his genes, and he's got me on my hands and knees to I was finally starting to feel good. My breathing was deep and the visceral joy in my crotch was finally starting to ring in the tips of my nipples. Dante was getting off, so why shouldn't I? My hand quickly went between my legs to flick and tease myself. My body reacted and I was sopping wet, my sexual fluids mixing with that of my secret k-9 lover. I still had reservations, but for each one that came to mind, I tore it down with some salacious reason that probably made little sense except to assure myself that I was an unrepentant whore that was loving every moment of this fucked up situation. I clenched my walls, squeezing Dante's stiff red meat as I would have a human lover. I wondered whether he would appreciate that? Every cock that had been thrust inside me in the past certainly had. Was it simply the prospect of sex that had aroused the beast? Or had it been the sight of my seductively presented pussy? I like to think it was the latter; got off on thinking that my pussy was so irresistible that even dog couldn't resist the temptation to tumble me on the carpet and slide his aching shaft into me, expending every ounce of effort to bone me into a gasping submission to his cock. Surely even a stud mutt had desires that needed to be sated, so what did it matter as to the type of pussy he fucked so long as it was a cunt to stretch on his meat. And who would know? It would be my little secret. My dirty little secret. Shirely, the hard working office girl secret a doggy-slut behind closed doors. Surely there were people walking right past those doors as some point – how could they even begin to suspect that I was on my hands and knees, my pussy stuffed with the dick of a lesser animal. I felt like an animal myself. I was moaning meaninglessly, my mind blank except whatever filthy thoughts helped me lose whatever dignity I had left, and with it, whatever inhibitions prevented me from enjoying this depraved rutting to the full. God, was I having an orgasm? Fuck, I came on a dog's fucking cock. Could Dante tell his bitch had just cum? I threw my head back in sheer gratification as he continued to work my cunt mercilessly like a sleeve. My cheeks went hot at the idea of when I'd finally go to work again; would anybody know that my hips had been gripped by a rutting beast; my pussy deflowered for the sake of a sudden whim of deviant lust? I doubted Dante cared either way as we continued to work my cunt with fervent abandon as I felt our mixed juices running down my leg. Fuck. When was the last time I had been so turned on? So used? It just didn't seem possible that another human being could give me this level of humiliating gratification. My brain was titillated and my sopping pussy was happy, not caring what type of cock was being fed to it, only that there was a cock in it that it could squeeze and clamp down on to do the job it was made to do. Dammit, if this was wrong, why was my pussy failing to recognise that fact? Why didn't it reject that erect piece of dog cock ploughing into my folds? Undoubtedly a great deal of my arousal came from working myself up, but I couldn't muster the will to deny Dante any more as he had his way with me there on the carpet in the living room surrounded by the fifty or sixty people that lived in this block. Someone was probably on her knees sucking off her boyfriend right now or spreading her legs for him, but I was here getting some from my dog, who I had taken to realise was such a magnificent creature. I whimpered as I felt his motions becoming more frantic, his hind legs scrambling for purchase to try and drive himself deeper into the slick parting I had provided for him. I should probably get him off before he comes. What the fuck for? Didn't you want to be Dante's little bitch, so why stop short of the main event? taunted the dark half of my psyche. The only way you get to walk away from this satisfied is to go all the way. Christ, what do I do? Do I slip him off, or do I let him slip his knot. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck The choice wasn't mine in the end as Dante made it shaved black pussy pics for me whilst I agonised. Following his bestial instincts, he drove his cock home, forgetting, or, more likely, not caring that he going to empty his load into my human pussy. At the realisation of what was happening, I gave a low, agonised groan that sounded like an exaggerated theatrical sound even to my ears, but was nevertheless quite sincere as I was forced into shameful orgasm. My toes curled and my body quivered as my treacherous cunt spasmed in rippling waves on the subhuman cock lodged into me and held fast by the swollen knot. Dante began to get off and reverse himself and I could feel him slipping free; my larger pussy unable to hold him like a true bitch would have. God knows why I wanted to do it, but I clenched as hard as I could, sobbing softly, undoubtedly wanting my humiliation and degradation to be utterly complete. Dante could not escape and stood there with me ass to ass, his tail going rigid as I began to feel slimy shaft twitch inside the spacious room of my pussy before he began squirting his inferior k-9 seed. Fuck. I had actually done it. I had sued my cunt to make a dog cum. The feel of his doggy sperm, my self loathing and exultation combined, making my walls ripple again; I clenched my teeth and eyes and gave out some intelligible sound that must have been something between a whine and a sob – a girl forced into cuming on the cock of a man who was raping her. Everything goes hazy after that, probably due to the combination of alcohol, wine, exhaustion and sexual release. I woke up on the carpet in the morning, sore from sleeping on the floor, but surprisingly relaxed inside. I went to the shower to clean myself and, at the same time, try and wash away the residual shame that had crept into my conscience to fill the void left by the quenching of my unbearable lust the night before. But it spoke volumes that I was thinking about when would be the next time, rather than if there would be a next time. soniaheatfk