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From: dingojay@earthlink.net
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Subject: {ASSM} Story: "Outback"  by Dingo Jay  zoo, M/F/Dogs, oral
Date: Tue, 23 Jul 2002 13:10:07 -0400
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 Zoophilia - M/F/Dogs.   Fiction.   ***WARNING*** The following story contains
graphic descriptions of sexual relations between humans and animals.  If you
are underage or are offended by such material, please stop reading here and
delete this file from your computer.   (c) 2002 by Dingo Jay.  May be freely
re-distributed or posted on FREE web sites or newsgroups, complete and with
this header.  No modifications or editing, please.  This document is the
intellectual property of the author and may not be used on pay sites or sold
in print, stored on disk or other electronic media where the sale price
exceeds the production and / or distribution cost without the author's
permission.

Outback

A story by Dingo Jay

  G'day all!  I have a small cattle station in east central Australia.  Of
course here in Oz, "small" means about twenty or thirty square kilometers. 
When you're grazing on scrub, though, it takes heaps of real estate to raise
just a small handful of beefers.  It's bloody hard work and hell knows I'll
never get rich, but I wouldn't trade it for the world!  

  Well I reckon if you're reading this, you're not so much interested in me as
in my mates.  I've got three of the best helpers a cattleman could ask for. 
They're Queensland Heelers.  I expect that if you're in some other part of the
world, I'll have to explain just what that is.  They're a breed of working
dog, tough as nails.    They have to be; anything less just wouldn't survive
out here.  They'll work all day in the hot sun and want more.  All that aside,
they're lovely to look at, too.  When they're not all covered in muck anyway. 
They're a mix of black and silver that gives them a sort of bluish colour,
with tan on the legs and throat, and a bit more over the eyes.  The ears stand
like those of a German shepherd.

  Bluey is the oldest at nine years; he's the sire of the other two.  Then
there's Luke and his sister Addie.  They're four years now.  Bluey is the
undisputed top dog and Luke is just a wee bit submissive.  Addie is respectful
of Bluey though she doesn't take any rubbish from Luke!  These dogs are part
of my life in every way, not just working partners.  They share my house, my
food, my bed, and--shall we say--intimate companionship.  It's not that I
can't find a human companion.  True, it's a bit lonely out here, but I've
never really been terribly interested in the ladies.  I like to have a bit of
a look now and again but that's all.  Of course, a hairy-legged bloke
interests me even less.  But the dogs... I don't know just what it is about
them.  I never tire of watching them; whether they're working, having a game
of chase or whatnot.  When they all gather 'round me for a scritch and a
snuggle at the end of the day, it's like heaven.

  But you came here for the naughty bits, then, didn't you?  All right then,
we'll give it a go...  I have sex with the lot!  I'm not really one of those
pillow biters you've read about that let every dog in town root them in the
arse, though it has happened a time or two.  And at around eighteen kilos
Addie is rather too small to penetrate.  I've had her spayed as well for
practical reasons.  That's not to say though that she's beyond a sexual romp. 
The gents still have their dangly bits and she loves to tease them, and me as
well.  Addie's also got the fastest tongue in New South Wales and she'll use
it tirelessly on any bit of your body you ask her to.  Of course I return the
favour...  In the mornings when we first awake, I often find Addie lying on
her back with her back legs splayed and a devilish grin on her pretty face. 
When I find her in that position, there's little doubt as to what's on her
mind.  Her furry little cooze quivers and twitches, and as I lean closer the
lips spread a bit wider.  I root her with me tongue and she humps against my
mouth until I take her clitty between my lips and suck it 'till she grunts
with pleasure and I can feel her entire body pulsating with her doggy orgasm. 
When she's in the mood she lets me do it three or four times or perhaps more. 
When she's had enough she jumps to her feet and runs through the house
shrieking like a bunyip.

  By that time, the noise and the smells have roused the blokes and they want
theirs.  It's most important that I do them in the proper order, since to do
otherwise would be asking for a biffo.  Fights between heelers can be rather
nasty, as they are well equipped in the fangs department.  Something to be
avoided at all costs.  Bluey, being older is dominant, so he's first.    He
prefers to stand during the proceedings and takes things slow and easy in a
decidedly dignified manner.  At least as dignified as any bloke could be who's
about to have his donger polished!  It's just the way he is, aloof and regal. 
He even looks like a king when he's covered in dust and cow shit.  

  I crouch down on me hands and knees, nose-to-nose with him.  I lower my head
and rub it against his throat and breast whilst I reach under him and gently
rub his bollocks between my fingers.  With my head against his chest, I can
hear and feel his heartbeat, slow and irregular: Thump. Thump. Thump-a-thump.
Thump. Thump.  My fingers move slowly forward and I make long, sensuous
strokes along the sides of his sheath, back to front and back again.  His
cock-skin is smooth, warm and supple, it gives and stretches slightly under my
touch.  I tickle the stiff, bristly hairs at the end with my fingertips and
watch his hind feet shift slightly.  The tip of my middle finger finds the
opening at the tip and wriggles inside to find the warm, wet point of his
pinkie.  I twiddle it ever so gently until I feel it twitch, then throb
strongly.  Now I reach farther to the rear and curl my hand about the knotted
bit of his donger and slip the elastic skin briskly to and fro.  He begins
thrusting with his hindquarters whilst his front slides over my head and
shoulders and his powerful front legs grip me just under me arms.  Once again,
I feel his heartbeat, between my shoulders this time. It's fast and regular
now: Thumpa, thumpa, thumpa, thumpa.  I roll my tongue into a tubular shape
(not everyone can do that, you know!) and push it into his sheath opening. 
That's all it takes to bring his glorious, pink dog-doodle bursting forth,
thrashing about and dripping as it searches for its mark.  Years of practice
allow him to place it precisely where he wants it with no assistance whatever,
whether it's in my mouth or in a bitch.  

  He slams it home, draws back and slams it in again and again as his knot
grows to fill my mouth and his spunk begins to spray against the back of my
throat.  Once he has finished thrusting, I wrestle him back a bit so as to
fully enjoy the unique flavour of that lovely stuff hot from the tap.  For the
next thirty-five to forty minutes, it's a constant battle between a dog who
instinctively wants to bury his knot as deeply as possible and a human who
wants to suck tasty doggy spunk from the business end.  An in-out sort of
thing, but in the process we keep things moist and lubricated which is most
crucial to the dog's health and comfort.  Once he's emptied his tanks, he goes
soft rather abruptly but gives me one last tasty trickle as I carefully put
his toys away.

  Luke, as I mentioned, is a wee bit submissive and not quite so keen on
playing tonsil snooker as his dad is.  He prefers to lie on his back and let
me do most of his work for him.  I sit by him and roll his lovely bollocks
between my thumb and fingers.  With my other hand, I stroke the hidden bit of
his cock that's just under the skin between his sack and his arsehole.  I feel
it twitch and throb a bit under me fingertips as his knot grows inside his
sheath and the pointy bit on the tip peeks from the opening.  I crouch over
him on me hands and knees and take him in my mouth, while my own cock bobs
about over his face.  He laps at it a bit, but quickly loses interest once I
begin sucking and stroking him in earnest.  He tries to thrust a bit at first,
but in his bottom-side-up position he really can't, so he simply relaxes and
enjoys the ride.  Luke is just a bit better endowed than his dad is, and he is
capable of doling out a stunning amount of cum for a smallish dog.  In
addition, his spunk is rather sweet and lacks the slightly bitter and metallic
flavour that Bluey's has.  

  Whilst Luke gleefully delivered his tasty payload, I flinched a bit as a
cold nose nudged my ball-sack.  It's almost certainly Addie, as Bluey has
little interest in such things.  A selfish little sod he is in that respect. 
The cold nose was replaced by a gentle lashing with a warm tongue until I
heard a soft growl issue from beneath me.  There are only a very few
circumstances under which "Luke the Sook" will stand up against his more
dominant sister.  One is food, and another is sex.  I'm not sure which he
considers his chance to lap at my dangly bits to be, but he won't give in to
Addie.  I felt a different tongue begin working on my cock head, alternating
with gentle nibbling with those small front teeth that dogs have.  I couldn't
hold back any longer, bombs away!  Frenzied slurps came form below as Luke
struggled to catch as much of the slippery stuff as he could.  Invariably, it
splatters about and Addie gets her share.  As Luke enjoyed his favourite
treat, his orgasm momentarily switched from slow and leisurely to a rapid-fire
sort of thing, whilst a fresh round of spurts splashed across my tongue.  I
suppose that puts the food-or-sex question to rest.  

    Luke had finished offloading his cargo and lost his knot, but sometimes I
just can't resist slipping him all the way out and running me tongue over the
whole surface.  By the time I was finished, he was partly erect again and I
left him for Addie to have her way.  She bucked her hips as she slobbered over
her brother's penis, and I slid under her and pushed her bum down so she sat
on my face.  I rooted her sweet little canine pussy with me tongue and she
humped faster as she lapped furiously at Luke's cock.  She came once more and
launched herself from my face to do her high-speed circling of the room.  

  I stood up and began getting dressed. "Well, mates, enough playtime.  We've
got work to do."  I let the dogs outside for a quick pee; we all had brekkies
and set out for the day's work.

  Luke likes nothing better than to roll over and show off his manly bits to
anyone who will grant him an audience.  He's a handsome and sexy young fellow
and he knows it.  His genitals are especially pleasing to the eye--to my eyes
at least.  My sister Flo had been here for a visit from time to time, and Luke
would proudly display the family jewels to her, as he felt quite comfortable
with her.  After a few too many pots of beer, my sister was giving Luke a
tummy scritch.  

  She looks up at me and says, "Roger, this dog has got a perfectly lovely set
of plums on him then, hasn't he?"  

  Though I completely agree, I was a more than a bit shocked that she out and
said such a thing.  I feigned embarrassment and said something noncommittal
like, "Yes, I suppose he does..." Even more surprising, I noticed she was
gently stroking his sack with her fingertips as though it wasn't the first
time she'd done such a thing.  I've often thought that my sister may have
similar feelings toward animals to my own.  I sometimes wonder if that episode
wasn't an attempt to bring me out, for better or worse.  She's had two failed
marriages, says there won't be another and even once declared, "Who needs men?
 Next time I'm going to get a dog!"  I hadn't the nerve to ask her and
possibly risk outing myself in case I was wrong.  

  Several months later, my sister's (second) estranged husband decided he
wanted to sort things out and she moved back in with him.  It lasted all of
two weeks before they had a terrible row and she grabbed her things and left
him once more.  As usual, I let her stay here until she could recover the rest
of her belongings and her wits and find another place to stay.  She's not
terribly obnoxious, but it's difficult for a woman who has spent most of her
adult life in the city to realise just how limited resources are out here in
the bush.  With a bit of cooking and cleaning she earned her keep, but she
used a dreadful amount of water in the process.  The water well that had
served me faithfully even through the drought had stopped producing.  I had a
look down there with a light and saw there was still water, but the pipe was
too short to reach it.  I got in my ute and drove off towards the well for the
stock, where I kept some spare sections of pipe.  Bluey went with me, but
Addie and Luke were asleep, so I left them behind.  After 2 or 3 kilometers, I
noticed the steering didn't feel quite right and then the truck suddenly
veered to the right.  A flat.  Bloody hell!  As I got out the spare, I
remembered that the jack was at the house.  A fat lot of good it did there! 
Well, no use crying over spilt milk, I walked back to get it.

  I arrived at the house and there was the jack, right where I'd left it. 
When I bent over to pick it up, though, I heard a rather odd sound.  I didn't
give it much thought at first, could have been anything.  I heard it again,
this time Bluey alerted on it too.  It sounded rather like a woman moaning. 
Had Flo hurt herself?  No, it didn't sound like that sort of a moan.  I went
indoors to investigate, but Flo was nowhere to be seen.  Addie lay on the
kitchen floor and looked up at me as though nothing had happened.  I heard the
moan again, this time it came from the back bedroom.  The door was open a bit,
so I peeped inside.  There was my sister Flo, lying on a throw rug and in the
throes of passion with Luke!  They weren't doing it "doggy-style" as one might
expect.  Flo was on her back with Luke rooting her face to face like a man! 
She had her arms around him and was kissing him passionately on the mouth.  I
was going to turn away quietly and leave them to it, but at that moment Bluey
slipped between my legs and burst barking and snarling through the door.  Flo
gasped and turned red as Ayers Rock.  

  "Oh, shit... Roger!"  Flo and Luke separated with a wet, slurpy sort of
sound, amid a flurry of flailing arms and legs.  I believe Luke must have lost
his erection almost instantly upon being challenged by Bluey.  Flo snatched
her dressing gown off the bed and threw it around her as she stood up. 
"Roger, it wasn't what you think!"  

  "What the bloody hell was it then, you're training for the Olympics, I
suppose?"

  "It's just... I 'm so lonely,  I was desperate.  Please try to understand. 
I'm not a pervert!"

   I stifled a laugh and shook my head.  "No worries.  It happens all the time
out here.  I'm not above a romp with the pups meself from time to time."

  "But Roger, Addie is so little.  Surely you would hurt her if..."

  "I'm sure I would if I screwed her, but I don't.  We have other things that
we do... her and the lads."

  "The lads? What could you possibly...?"

  "I'd rather not go into the details.  Just remember to close your door next
time you fancy a romp with one of the boys."  

  Bluey strutted stiff legged and bristling about the room whilst Luke cowered
in the corner.  Each time he passed close to Luke, he stopped momentarily,
stood stiffly with his tail straight out behind him and rolled his eyes.  On
about the seventh pass or so his demeanour seemed to change.  He sniffed
Luke's sheath, poked him playfully in the chest with his nose and wagged his
tail before trotting off about his business.  It sort of seemed as though he
was saying, "Your first time, eh, kid?  Good job."  

 My sister stayed with me several more weeks until she got herself another
flat in the city.  She had some more "closed door sessions" with Luke, and on
a couple of occasions Bluey was not interested in morning playtime, so I
suspect she had a roll or two with him as well.  We have agreed to keep it a
secret between us, as we're fairly certain Mum and Dad don't really need or
want to know.  Flo has since moved to a small house in a more suburban sort of
area and gotten a lovely, yellow male Labrador.  Mum asks her why she isn't
seeing other men, but Flo just sort of smiles.  I'd wager she's found a good
man in man's best friend, or should I say a woman's best friend?


Questions, comments, criticism?  Email dingo.jay-at-iname.com  
Replace  -at- with @


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Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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