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Message-ID: <37510asstr$1027545011@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: profnjax@aol.comnocrap (Profnjax)
Subject: {ASSM} Life in the Yard, Part 3  (MFmf/Dogs, Rape, Humil, Satire
Date: Wed, 24 Jul 2002 17:10:11 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE:  Please accept my apology and please note.  I
previously posted this part of Life in the Yard, Part 3 that is, mislabeled in
the subject line as Part 2.  I have also posted Part 2 correctly labeled in the
subject line.  So, there are two Part 2s and two Part 3s posted, one correctly
labeled and one incorrectly labeled for each.  You will see the correct heading
at the beginning of each Part once you open it.  But I want to apologize for
the slip ups and any confusion they cause for Parts 2 and 3.  As you'll see in
reading the story, it is important to read the four Parts in the sequence in
which they are written to make much sense of what's happening to the main
character.  The story is a stream of consciousness narrative in which the four
Parts were not intended to stand on their own.

<moderator's note: we caught the incorrect postings of 2 and 3.>

Life in the Yard
(MFmf/F/Dogs, Rape, Humil, Satire)
by Chris

Part 3

Hey, Lizzie here.  Back in from the yard.  Whew!  Have I got some shit to tell
you!  

Ugh!  Ouch.  Wait a minute.

There.  That's better.  Had to get up and shake and stretch.  Do some leg and
finger exercises.  

You know, chairs just aren't as comfortable as they used to be for me.  Not
comfortable at all.  And these keystrokes?  Well, let's not even get into it.

Now, where did I leave off last time?  Oh yeah.  The puppy and what I called
the final test by Lancelot and Gallahad, which I characterized as a grueling,
degrading ordeal.

Hmm.  Things have changed since then.  Lots of things.  For one thing, the
puppy's bigger now, but he's in the house now most of the time.  

My daughter read what I wrote last time about what I did with the puppy.  My
oral encounter with the little guy.  So, she took him inside.  Doesn't want to
let him out unsupervised anymore.  Says she doesn't trust me with him until he
gets older, bigger, and stronger.  

I know, hard to have your daughter thinking that way about her own mother.  Me.
So negative in such an ugly way for a daughter to be thinking of her mother. 
Me.  Protective of the puppy, yes.  And that's positive.  But very negative
about me.

Shows no respect for me at all.  To be negative about it, I've come to expect
no respect from my family, from everyone really, people or dogs.  No body can
protect me from that but me.

But my daughter's disrespect for me, at least this time, has a positive aspect.
 To protect the puppy, because the puppy can't protect himself yet.

And, you know, I can respect that.  I mean, I wasn't really planning on another
puppy encounter.  But, out in the yard, you never know quite what to expect.  

Anyway, when I left off last time, I was about to tell you about that so-called
grueling, degrading ordeal with Lancelot and Gallahad.  It happened.  It was
grueling.  And at the time, and for a while after, I did feel it was a
degrading ordeal.  

But alot's happened since then.  Including another epic encounter with Lancelot
and Gallahad that had shed a whole new light on things.  You'll see.

It started when my daughter brought to puppy outside to play.  As I said, she'd
been keeping him inside since she read what I wrote about the me and puppy last
time.  But she brings him out to play for a while sometimes, watches over us,
then takes hime back inside.

So anyway, she brought the puppy out.  Lancelot and Gallahad were playing with
him.  They were excited to see the puppy and they're pretty rambunctious dogs.
But they were being pretty gentle with him, and I stayed back in the kennel, so
my daughter went inside for a few minutes for something.

Anyway, Lancelot and Gallahad were doing something up by the house, and the
puppy wandered back into the kennel by himself.  I was a little leary.  I knew
my daughter didn't want him around me when she wasn't watching.  That's why I'd
just stayed in the kennel.  

But when he just walked back there by himself, I thought it might be a good
chance to maybe make amends.  Establish a better relationship with the puppy. 

I mean, I didn't want him being scared of me or anything.  Just because my
daughter was being so negative about the last time.  So overly protective of
him.  And I could see that he was a little leary of me too.

Anyway, I'd learned some stuff since my last encounter with the puppy.  And one
thing I learned is how to be friendly and playful in a submissive,
nonthreatening way.  Non-sexual too, I should emphasize.  Especially given what
happened.

Anyway, I rolled over on my back  All fours in the air.  Gave a few happy,
playful barks. And waited to see what he would do.  

At first he just  gave a few yippy puppy barks back.  Circled around me warily.
 Came closer, then backed away.   Kept his distance.  Hopped up and down. 
Yipped some more.

Now see, it's hard to tell what those yippy puppy barks mean sometimes.  All
puppy barks are yippy.  So it's hard to tell whether they're happy and playful
or what.

And that may have been the problem right there.  Me not knowing how to
interpret the puppy's yippy barks.  Not knowing whether they were happy ones or
not.

I mean, it wasn't all my fault.  My daughter keeping him inside and away from
me.  Me not being around him enough to know his barks very well.

Anyway, there I was.  On my back, all fours in the air.  Not knowing if the
puppy's yippy barks are happy or not.  Wanting him to feel safe with me.

So, I give him a real soft happy bark and throw out a few whimpers too.  Not
really sad whimpers.  See, you have to take them in the context of the happy
bark.  Which was kind of an introductory qualifier for the whimpers. 
Altogether, a submissive happy-playful-wistful kind of thing.  

You know, like, "Aww, don't you want to play with me, puppy?" See?  Totally
well-intended on my part.  Nothing predatory or aggressive about it whatsoever.
 No hidden agenda either.  Honest.

Anyway, I thought it worked.  Because the puppy started coming closer.  Less
wary.   Making more yippy barks.  Hopping up and down.  

I thought his yippy barks were happy barks and he was being playful.  And maybe
he was.

But anyway, all of a sudden he just hops on my face.  That's right.  Just like
that.  

Hops on my face.  Straddles it with his stubby little legs.  His little front
paws holding my clop-flop phony-furry spaniel ears down to the ground.  Which
holds my head down.  

His little hind paws on my cheeks. But he wasn't just pawing my cheeks.  He was
clawing them too.  With those little sharp puppy claws of his.  And he wasn't
as little as the last time.  Bigger.  Stronger too.

I mean, I could see that he was a little bigger.  But I didn't know how much
stronger he'd gotten.  Not until he started holding my head down by my
clop-flops.  He was still a puppy, but he was strong for such a little guy. 
And his claws on my cheeks really hurt.

So anyway, I just openned my mouth to give him a few warning barks.  Nothing
too hostile, mind you.  Really more worry yaps than warning barks.  

Yeah, worry yaps is a better way to put it.  Because I was trying to connect
more on his level, see?  With his yippy puppy barks.  

But I admit, I wanted a little hint of warning in there too.  Altogether, it
would be like a mother saying to her child, "Ohh.  No, no, no," you know?

At the time, I was still working on the finer points of my barks.  Like, the
more subtle intonations and inflective modulations, you know?  And I was just
sort of improvising with this worry-yap stuff.  I mean, as I said, I hadn't
spent much time around him since my daughter started keeping him inside.

Anyway, there I am.  My mouth flopping open.  Trying out some worry-yapping. 
And the impudent little pup sticks his dick in my mouth.

That's right.  Just like that.  Stuck it right in.  No warning or anything.

Yeah, he had hard-on.  But how was I supposed to know?  His dick was still
pretty little even stiff.  And I was concentrating on his paws and claws on my
head.  And getting my worry-yapping down.

I mean, he was the aggressor here, not me.  I know, it doesn't sound that good
to say that.  Lay all the blame on the puppy.  I'm a grown woman still a lot
bigger than him (but not for long). 

So, I'm not really claiming puppy rape here.  Well, not total rape, anyway.  

But, hey, he started it.  He's the one who stuck it in.  The puppy.  I was just
laying there, mouth open, more like a goddamned guppy than any self-respecting
dog.

Anyway, that's when my daughter comes back.  Wouldn't you know it?  She starts
yelping and yelling at me.  The puppy starts pawing my head harder and humping
and pumping his little dick into my mouth.

 That's right.  She just made it worse with all her yelling.  Got the puppy
more worked up.  And that's when he started really going to town in my mouth.

Thought about biting the little pecker.  But didn't want to hurt him in his
formative years.  Maybe ruin him for life.  Besides, I didn't want him pawing
and clawing my face any harder than he already was.

I reached up to grab him with my front paws to push him off my face.  My
daughter reached down to grab him and pull him off.  And, you know what?  He
snarled and nipped at my daughter's hand and growled and bit my forepaw.  Hard
too!  

See?  Aggressive little bastard.  

Sure, he was angry.  But he was horny too.  Never missed a stroke in my mouth
while he's fending off me and my daughter.

Now tell me that wasn't oral rape?  Least as close to rape as a puppy can get
on a full-grown woman being a dog.  

Gotta look at his actions and consider his intentions.  Mens rea.  State of
mind of the perpetrator.  So what if the perp's a pup?   Adopted from English
Common Law, mens rea has been a basic principle of Western legal codes for
centuries.  

See?  I haven't forgotten my legal training just because of some dog training
in the yard.  

And besides, what about a woman's right to say no?  Hmm?  What about that?  

You heard what happened.  I was working on my warning bark and worry yap right
when it happened.  Does that sound like consent to you?  I can't help it if I
didn't have all my dog communication skills down yet.  And who knows if the
puppy was old enough to understand it anyway?  

And besides, he had his dick in my mouth as soon as I started.  And if oral
penetration, even by a puppy, doesn't inhibit bark articulation, I don't know
what does?   

Think I really wanted to suck that puppy's dick?  Hell no!  Not after the first
time.  I learned my lesson then about sucking puppies.  Losing proposition.  

And I didn't want my daughter thinking any worse of me than she already did. 
Think I wanted by daughter to see me as a serial puppy molestor?  Think I
wanted my daughter to see me, her mother, as some sick creature with an
uncontrolable, compulsive urge to suck puppy's dicks?  Come on now.  After all
I've told you about me, you should know me better than that.

I know I sound a little defensive here.  But it's because nobody seemed to
believe that I wasn't deliberately sucking the puppy's dick.  

Hell, look at the positions.  He was going down on me, not the other way
around.  

Yet everybody was convinced I'd seduced the precocious, lacivious little mut. 
Everybody.  My daughter and the rest of the family.  Lancelot and Gallahad too.
 They all thought it was clear I was a mut slut who had this sick, twisted
thing for pups.

Anyway, my daughter finally pulled the puppy off my face.  With the help of
some ferocious barking and growling by Lancelot and Gallahad.  At me!

I thought, sure, now you guys show some chivalry.  To protect a male puppy
against me!  

I just thought the whole think was really unfair, you know?  I mean, maybe I
was stretching things applying mens rea to a puppy.  But dogs' system of
justice leaves a lot to be desired.  I mean, they've got no concept of sex
crimes and issues of consent at all.  Nothing to protect women from sexual
predators, even puppies.  

And, you know what?   I think the puppy learned the wrong lesson from all this.
 

Well, no.  That's my woman's side, my feminist attorney side, talking there. 
Sorry.  

The whole puppy-rape incident is still too emotionally raw for me now. 
Post-traumatic stress, I guess.  From the point of view of male dogs, the puppy
learned the right lesson from this.  How to treat a bitch. 

I'm sorry.  I gotta stop now.  No, the family's not making me.  Time's not up
yet.  I just gotta stop.  Gotta go.

There was more I was gonna tell you.  Lots more.  But I'm just so worn out now.
 So worn down.

My paws are shaking . . .  No.  Hands.  Hands and fingers.  Legs too.  

See?  See what I mean?   I'm crying so hard I can hardly see.  

It's this puppy thing.  Really gets to me.

Thought I had it sorted out.  Under control.  But, like I've said, emotions are
really let loose out in the yard.  It's a good thing mostly.  But sometimes it
can really get to you.  Rip you up.  Make you lose it.

Like now.  This whole puppy thing.

I hate to leave this on such a negative note.  Especially since it started on a
negative note.  At least when it got to the puppy.  Well, the puppy thing this
time didn't really start out negative.  I mean I had real positive intentions. 
You know that, right?

But it went really bad.  But I told you that.  Bad, bad, bad.  Negative,
negative, negative.  Almost everything I wrote this time is so negative.  And
that's not me.  You know that, right?

I don't deal in all negatives.  Never have, never will.  I'm not like that. 
Don't deal with with all negatives.  Can't deal with all negatives.  Can't
handle that.

Don't deal with negatives well at all.  No!  That's not true.  I'm good at
dealing with negatives.  Always have been, always will be.  Good, good, good. 
Gotta put the positive in there.  Get the positive out of the negative. 
Balance them out.  Make things more positive.  But I just can't do that now.

I know there's positives here.  But I just can't get to them at the moment. 
Sometimes you really have to dig through a lot of negatives.  Wrestle with them
until you can tug out the positives.  Try not to get all tangled up in the
negatives.  Get mangled.  Maybe strangled.

I'm all tangled up in negatives here now.  Can't dig and tug the positives out.
 Not now.  Too worn out.  Too worn down.  Getting mangled.  Feeling strangled. 
Gotta go.  Back out to the yard.  There's life out there.  Life in the yard.

To be continued in Part 4 (Conclusion) . . .
  

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