Message-ID: <62080asstr$1334581807@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com From: TBD <tbd@hushmail.me> X-Original-Message-ID: <1mnko71hp8t8dfr4ftc00aieodcqv158fo@4ax.com> Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Auth-Sender: U2FsdGVkX18y+zAkMz2q3h4w3A1oyzLJSRd9hZO0Q4PPW6x/2OPpyA== Cancel-Lock: sha1:58e8vlHUBPeLUuHL8j1Rd9fH/lE= X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sun, 15 Apr 2012 12:15:31 -0700 Subject: {ASSM} Zoo/Best Purpose Written Work (zoo, best, finished, asst codes) TBD Lines: 2870 Date: Mon, 16 Apr 2012 09:10:07 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2012/62080> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: RuiJorge, dennyw Zoo/Best Purpose Written Work (zoo, best, finished, asst codes) --- Some of these were written in response to challenges. Others were written for personal reasons. All of them had a definite purpose that led to me writing them. --- The positions program generates a total of 280 possible combinations. Some are unfeasable. For those people that think there is only 'dog style' or have limited imaginations, this should be quite a revelation :) Anyone want to try naming the various positions? And how about someone doing something similar for other animals? Enjoy! ---------------- M$ is the man's position H$ is the bitch's position no filtering is done you could add a few lines after line 60 to select feasible positions Some of the positions are impossible and others require some ingenuity such as using a couch or bed or something to support one of you. Most of the descriptions are based on lying on a bed together. So some strange positions can be generated. I'm releasing this to the public domain. If someone comes up with a better version, let me know. ----------------- 10 DIM M$(14),H$(20) 15 OPEN "combos.lst" FOR OUTPUT AS 1 20 FOR A=1 TO 14:READ M$(A):NEXT A 30 FOR A=1 TO 20:READ H$(A):NEXT A 40 FOR I=1 TO 14 50 FOR J=1 TO 20 60 PRINT M$(I),H$(J) 70 WRITE#1,M$(I),H$(J) 80 NEXT J 90 NEXT I 110 END 120 REM my possible positions 130 DATA "left side","back","right side","face down" 140 DATA "squating on knees-ass on surface" 150 DATA "on knees in upright position" 160 DATA "on knees bent over" 170 DATA "standing in upright position" 180 DATA "standing bent at waist" 190 DATA "sitting on flat surface with legs outstretched" 200 DATA "sitting on chair-leaning back" 210 DATA "sitting on chair-upright" 220 DATA "semi-squat upright" 230 DATA "semi-squat bent at waist" 240 REM her possible positions 250 DATA "left side parallel","left side 90 degrees" 260 DATA "left side facing away paralel","left side facing away 90 degrees" 270 DATA "back parallel","back 90 degrees" 280 DATA "right side facing parallel","right side facing 90 degrees" 290 DATA "right side facing away parallel","right side facing away 90 degrees" 300 DATA "laying on chest facing","laying on chest facing away" 310 DATA "sitting facing","sitting facing away" 320 DATA "sitting facing supported vertical" 330 DATA "left side facing parallel legs on either side" 340 DATA "right side facing parallel legs on either side" 350 DATA "standing","standing rear supported" 360 DATA "held against chest-completely supported" ~~~ Wistful Wanderings - A Conversation that Never Happened --- "What's it like?" Her voice is trembling. I frown in surprise and then turn to study her thoughtfully. If I didn't know better, she's sad and a bit wistful. Before I speak I settle in a chair across the room and take the time to consider things. "That's right, for you..." I pause as she nods carefully. The woman before me has never known the joyous part of sex. The gentle touches. The affirmation... The love of two partners who care for each other. She's also my mother. "I don't know if I can put it into words - well enough to fully explain." For me, that's quite an admission. She's read what I write and often enjoyed it. I have often wondered about the reasons she insisted on reading *everything* as soon as it was finished. Her regular routine of asking me if I had done any more writing is now more fully explained. Considering I write extensively in the zoo/best genre, that willingness of hers to read everything has always puzzled me. For the first time, I am beginning to understand what she was really saying when she told me she once bought some of the popular 'romance novels' written for women and after only a few pages, they made her sick and she destroyed them. For her, I'm providing a way for her to try and learn about what she has missed out on when it comes to sex and love. "Will you try?" She brings me back to the present. "Yes." The word is softly spoken. I look down at my feet. My latest lover is looking up at me. Automatically, I reach down and gently stroke her forehead. Brown eyes close and she sighs in pleasure. Years ago, when I revealed I'm a zoosexual, I spent almost three hours explaining human sexuality to her before I could try to explain my own. During the years before and after that discussion, she has watched me and my lovers interact in every way except for the physical act of sex. "My experience with women is limited. You know that. I can really only try to explain things from my point of view. She," I gesture at my latest partner, "can't speak for herself in words. I assume you've been watching her to see if she shows any indication that I abuse her." My comment is somewhat ironic. This bitch is one I rescued from an abusive situation. She's gone from 'terrified to move' to an almost arrogant self-assurance. She's still, after all these years, wary of women. I know this wariness has frustrated my mother. She prides herself on her ability to coax pretty much any animal to her for attention. This bitch is, as far as I know, one of her few failures. Food, yes. Go to my mother for affection? Not a chance. We've both tried to overcome that and failed. In all fairness to the dog, she and I had formed our emotional bond long before I initiated any sex between us. So, it is with a great degree of confidence I can say our sex is more than just physical pleasure and it has not damaged our relationship. I gaze off at nothing in particular. "We love each other. Committed. We reach for the other when we need reassurance when we are down. It's a two way relationship. I know there are sometimes things I do that she doesn't have a lot of enthusiasm for. In return, I grant her rights to do things I don't always care for. Give and take. Accept some of the other's minor quirks. There are things about ourselves we've changed without being asked to change by the other. In short, we've managed to work out the compromises any couple would have to make in order to keep a long term relationship stable." "But that's not what you want to hear is it? That much is obvious. What you want to know is about the physical part." I continue. "It's physical. I fuck her. In the past, with males, they fucked me. Sometimes I ask them, sometimes they ask me. We've taken the time to learn each other's preferences." "Sometimes, the sex is raw, driving. Sex purely for the physical pleasures. Other times, it's gentle foreplay that can last for what seems like an eternity. The sex is more for the physical contact than release. Just being together and coupled adds a closeness that is... special." "Affirmation. Love. Trust. Care. Sharing. At the same time, I can't deny the physical pleasure involved. It feels good. If you know anything about dogs by now, you know they don't like to repeat bad experiences and that they can make that distaste very clear. They are also quite willing to let the world know that they don't like someone who has forced them against their will. Yes, I know they will do things they don't like if they fear the person asking. I wish you could have a chance to see her relax when I carress her intimately. If she feared, she wouldn't act the way she does." I sigh deeply. "That sort of relaxed intimacy is possible between humans and where even I originally expected to find it. I know how it always was for you. Pain. Use. Nothing to indicate any concern for your feelings." I let my pain show through. "You've missed out on something that is so... Intensly an affirmation of life. I wish I had some way to let you feel what I've felt." "What you see us do in public is only the surface. I pet my dog and she groans and enjoys the attention. What you don't see are the subtle tihngs we do. The little things that are part of our private language of love." "When we go to bed, I am not naked before a dog. I'm naked with my lover as she is always naked to the world. In public, we are chaste although she does sometimes speak to me of sexual interest. In private, we hide nothing from each other. In private, if I suddently decide to turn gentle affection to seduction, I may do so without worry. She can choose to accept or deny that seduction. Just as I can accept or deny her own efforts." "The last thing on my mind is to cause her pain during sex. A gentle kiss of her private parts. Licking and using my saliva to initially lubricate her. Things no different than human lovers would do. The patience to wait until she produces enough lubrication so I slide easily during sex. Tender caresses. I pet her. I gently stroke her body. Over the years, I've discovered her erogenous zones. She has learned what pleases me when she nuzzles me or licks me. Sometimes I just freeze with myself fully inside her and do noting more than pay attention to her and savor our closeness." "Do I use her for my own needs? No more than she uses me for hers. That has been true of all of my lovers." "I'll admit there are things she can't give me. Mainly, we can't share conversations in words. On the other hand, she gives me something I've never had from a human lover. Pure honesty. I do the best I can to return that to her. It's not easy sometimes. Life as a human, in the real world, affects how I deal with her. Just as her past affects how she deals with me, my daily life affects how I treat her. Usually, when we are in private, I manage to shed the cloak of humanity that I wear in front of others and become the real person I am. Yes, I control my urges. I don't become totally uncontrolled. What I shed in her presence is the part that conceals my inner feelings. I no longer hide the physical displaying of my love. She no longer hides her own natural desires." "In so many ways, after all these years of finding my completion with canines, I share some of their traits. I tend to be open because I know on a deep level that I can never fully hide my true feelings from someone who takes the time to look for them. Pesonal responsibility is a way of life. Living with dogs has forced that on me. They don't understand or accept excuses for my actions." "In private, if she rolls on her back and spreads her hind legs to display herself to me, I can bend down and gently kiss her. Or, she can gently kiss me anywhere she chooses." "Companionship. Love. Relaxed and casual togetherness." "Most people find it with a human partner. Hell, most people find it somehow and don't go through life alone. I'm not saying you haven't found companionship. All I'm saying is that sex and the physical closeness involved adds a dimension to that companionship that is like explaining color to someone who has been blind all their life." "I'm sadder than you can possibly know that you never had that closeness with anyone." ~~~ This is a serious answer to the question: "If you had a choice, how do *you* want to be remembered in ASS*?" Ego in Flight --- TBD has reached the end of that infamous road that everyone travels. He sees many old friends and takes the time to greet those whom he knows only by reputation. Eventually, his fruit juice in hand, he settles to enjoy the view. Inevitably, someone settles next to him. "TBD? You've made the journey. This is the end of the road. Never mind how you paved your section, that's done with." He nods as he sips at his glass of juice and waits patiently for the person to get to the point. There's no hurry - now. "You spent years writing and posting to usenet and other places. Ignore most of that." "Let's assume that five or ten years from now, maybe more, you are still remembered in the ASS* newsgroups or whatever replaces them." "My question is simple." "What do *you* want to be remembered for?" "Ah. You've managed to surprise me." "The most honest answer would be that it has varied over the years." TBD smiles slightly and leans back. "I'd be a bigger fool than some people claim if I said I wanted to be remembered as an 'ordinary human'. I was never that. How could I be ordinary when all the so-called IQ tests ranked me in the top ten percent - or higher? I spent years writing and posting stories and other works. That isn't ordinary either." "I take pride in knowing that I eventually became a fairly good writer. Remembered for it? No, what I achieved as a writer took many years to attain and is something anyone could do." Musingly, he continues. "Making a positive difference in many lives?" "No, many people did that as well." Exasperated, the person exclaims, "Isn't there *anything* you really want to be remembered for?" TBD stares off at something only he can see. Softly, he speaks. "Well, yes, there is one small thing I'd like to be remembered for. I spent years creating stories that told of how zoosexuals really see the world and their place in it. I earned a reputation, twice, as a person dedicated to writing 'reality based fiction'." "That's fine and most people would be content with that." "I'm not." "I want to be remembered as one of the many people who helped destroy the myth that forced so many of us to risk it all - every day of our lives." TBD turns back, picks up his glass, and sips at it before smiling. "That's my dream. People being the way they are, I guess I'll have to settle for being remembered as a creator of some sort - *if* I am remembered." He raises his glass in a toast: "To dreams. May you always have them." ~~~ Memories Seen in a Mirage --- I've heard it said that little, unremarkable decisions add up to big, life defining ones that you can't help but know will change your life significantly. Some of the most important ones were made before I was born--but they all led to who I am now. Strange? Or just the way life is? Both, I guess. I'll never blame my parents for the decisions they made. After all, *I* was the one who confronted the life-defining decision that can never be unmade... And chose... To become a zoosexual. * * * My parents were children of the Great Depression. Not tremendously wealthy, not rags on their backs poor, they both belonged to working class families, they both survived. They carried their own scars, of course. My father was an only child. When he was fifteen or so he tripped and hit his head on the bumper of the family car. A personality change followed. Mood swings were now normal. He became abusive of his parents when he didn't get his way. Later, after he married my mother, these mood shifts led to violent attacks and other abuse. She finally had enough and left him when I was about six. I still remember cowering under the bed in terror when he attacked someone, a lawyer, I think, who had come on the property. There's still evidence of the scar I received when my head hit the broken bedrail while I crawled under the bed. But they loved each other before that time--and it shows in all the pictures I've seen of them during those few years they spent together. My mother was from a large family. Of seven brothers and sisters, she was the next to youngest. I am too close to her to be able to piece together what I consider a 'true and factual' account of her childhood. I've also heard so many different versions of incidents she's related to me that I don't know how much 'truth' there is in any of them. No matter. The only 'truth' that really matters is the 'truth' that she believed, and still believes. It is that truth that helped her make the decisions that eventually led to the one I confronted when I was about twenty-three. So, without speculating on her veracity, I'll simply state that she was the victim of an attempted rape by her oldest brother when she was about six. One of her sisters was well known to be round-heeled and willing to sleep with any man who was willing to use his penis. My mother stayed at home and took care of her father--and was the one who was there when he died in the bathroom from a heart attack. He was in his mid forties. From what I remember, she and my father had met during their school years at some point. It might have been college. I don't remember. Both of them joined the Marines during WWII. My mother served stateside, my father in the Pacific theater, eventually winding up serving a tour of duty in the Philippines during the reoccupation. I have few details from either of them. My mother had her stories on being a mail clerk and my father never spoke of his years except to tell me a story of how the men would masturbate before they saw the Philippino whores in an attempt to make the time with them last longer. He also told me that anyone coming off leave or returning from an off post trip was routinely required to let the medics insert the tip of a syringe into their penis so they could get treated for VD. I never knew my father that well, except through my mother's eyes. I knew her image of him was distorted. It wasn't until after he died and after I made my decision... That I was finally able to understand how distorted her image of him, and men in general, truly was. I sigh deeply... After the horror of the divorce, and the memories I have of the judicial system and its warped idea of justice, I was the only son of a single mother. Of course this led to events and decisions on her part, and mine, that now make my 'final' decision seem inevitable. During the early years after the divorce she made her living doing what she could. She had her pride but she accepted the inevitable and applied for and recieved financial assitance. It was never enough and she supplemented that by working. For years she was a motel maid. I was too busy being a kid so I never noticed any changes in her--or knew until many years later--that at one hotel she was raped twice in the space of two weeks. Both times, when she went into the room to clean it, a man was still there. Different men each time, but they both did what some men often do to a woman who is essentially a cipher, with nobody to speak for them. She's carried those scars all her life. Indirectly, I carry them, too. In defiance of the court orders, my mother denied my father his visitation rights. She made me a part of this by telling me all the bad things he'd done to her. She seldom spoke of the good things so my picture was distorted, filled with hatred, and I was used as a tool to help her justify her decisions. Did I know it? No, and much of what she was doing was unconscious. She did her best to present an even-handed view of men and women but no matter how much I knew about what was happening, no matter how much I struggled to counteract the distortion, it was still there and affecting my view of life. I'm not apologizing for her. I'm not making excuses. I grew up fast. I was able to see the world around me at a very early age. I had my childhood and it was a good one for the time I lived it. No worse than many, it was above average and even though I didn't have a father at home, it was a good time to be a child, albeit a child who saw the world through the eyes of an adult. It was a good life with far too many good things to mention. It sounds this way, dark, because I am taking the time to tell you some of the parts that played major roles in making me who--and what I am now. My mother had a book called 'Motherhood'. It was huge. 8.5 x 11 inches and about 5 inches thick, it covered everything. I'd read it through by the time I was ten. My mother would often ask me 'What does the book say?'. I would tell her and she would usually follow that advice. I knew about sex by then. I'd had sex with a female cousin not once but many times by the time I was nine. An older male cousin introduced me to her and the joys of masturbation. By the time I was ten I also knew that sometimes sex can be a commodity, to be traded--and used to survive. Sometimes for a woman it is the only thing she has to offer. Forgive me, mother. I always knew that while we lived there you paid the rent with your body. I've always known about the 'special bond' you and he have. I've always known why he still cares so much for you. The wisdom of silence comes early to a child able to see the world around him. I understand and have never, will never, judge or condem you for what you did to help us survive. Survival has its own rules and I understood that, even then. By the time I hit puberty though, I had a conditioned fear of forming a serious relationship with girls. Something had made me shy. I guess most of that fear came from constantly hearing my mother. She was talking about men and what jerks they could be but I could see the other side, how the system favored women in so many ways. Piss a woman off and she could ruin you, even if it was obviously the woman who was at fault. No, I wanted no part of that risk. I was poor, below poverty level poor and everything I had, I'd earned. *I'd* earned it. Not my mother. No gifts. It was mine--and I didn't want some vindictive bitch taking it away from me. Better to avoid all women and masturbate. Besides, by the time I was feeling this way, the hormone generated LUST I was feeling had already found an alternative to women. Ten years later that 'temporary' solution became a permanent one. A country boy. No matter how long I live or where I live I'll always be one. Living in the country means animals, of course. Cats, dogs, chickens, turkeys, cows, horses, sheep... Animals of some sort everywhere. Of course during puberty only certain parts of these animals were of interest to me. Sex. Mating. Sex. Sex. Fucking. I'd grown up with cats. My mother was and is, a cat person. I was on my second dog when I hit puberty. Actually, we had two dogs. A Collie sort of looking male and a smaller dog that had what is now known as the 'Benji' look. She was a mixed breed of some sort. Both were intact and when she was in heat my dog would try to mount her. The size difference made it difficult for him, but not impossible. I remember finding a hidden from view area in the back yard and helping hold her so he could fuck her. I didn't know about the knot, other than the fact that they 'tied together'. Any kid knew that much. I tried fucking her myself but couldn't get inside her. I gave that idea up eventually. But, it led to one of those decisions I never knew was important until years later. I *was* able to ass fuck my dog--and let him ass fuck me. It wasn't about love or care, even though we shared a deep bond. It was sex for both of us. I fucked him and I let him fuck me. This went on for years. Mostly it was me fucking him but there were many times I'd lie on my back and let him fuck me. We never tied though. Why that was, I'll never know. For some reason I never let it happen. That was with the next dog we had, another mixed breed. By now I knew what I wanted from a dog, and our dogs knew what they could get from me. The next dog was no stranger to me straddling him and letting him swell inside me. One evening I made the choice: I straddled him, got him started and finally managed to force his knot all the way inside my ass. I jerked off and waited for him to relax. It felt good and I knew we'd be doing it a lot more. We did. Time passes. I live alone for awhile, no animals. I join the military, again, no animals. There is a failed sexual relationship with a woman who is casually considered the company cunt. She puts out for anyone who is interested. It's damn cold in the room and for many reasons, my religious background (long since discarded for the most part), whatever... I can't perform and we do nothing. During these years I explore masturbation and other forms of self satisfaction. It's no surprise to learn I'm an anal erotic. I love stuffing things up my ass, have since I was a child and I first discovered sex. Why didn't I turn gay? I could have. I had gay friends in high school. I knew that the choice was available. Religious programming. Cultural conditioning. Gay was in the closet. Gay was hiding. Gay was trusting another human about something that was such a major part of me. Being gay was not an option. I'm working. I'm thinking about my future. My life. My sex life. I see no realistic hope of ever meeting and forming a sexual relationship or marrying a woman. I can't picture myself as gay. Off and on, since puberty, I've had sex with dogs. Dogs are unremarkable. They blend in. I love dogs and have always had close friendships, deep relationships with them. The decision is made. I will get a bitch and eventually have sex with her. I start visiting the animal shelter every time I go past. Two weeks later, she shows up. That evening, with the help of a cousin, we bring her home. I wanted sex. She taught me to love. ~~~ Love's a Bitch ---- Yeah. I know. You've never heard me talk about my sex life. I gotta be gay, or asexual. Or something. Let me tell you, since you asked. I'm something. No, really. Take a good look in her eyes. Unthinkable? For you, yes. Me? Love's a bitch--a *real* bitch. * * * Hey, I never could make all the right moves around women. Truth is, I couldn't seem to get my head wrapped around them anyway. All those fucking mind games. On again, off again sexual signals. IDK. Maybe I was never meant to stumble down the path most guys walk. When puberty kicked the hormones in we had a family dog. OK, get picky, a bitch. I spent a lot of time with her. Took her through an obedience training class as soon as she was old enough. Yeah, you got it. She was intact. Never thought about it before but almost everyone's dogs were intact back then. Was just the way things were. You just didn't fuck with nature, that's all. You didn't want puppies, you took the time to make sure your bitch wasn't out where she could be bred. Most folks had contempt for those who couldn't be bothered with the added responsibility and took the easy way out. Not like it is now. Pressure. Laws. Stupid. That's what it is. She was in heat for part of the class. The instructor loved it. Those of us who finished had some pretty well behaved dogs at the end, her included. Anyway, we bonded. Heh. Bonded. Right. She was in heat, I was in puberty--and that was all it took. Didn't care for girls, could barely stand being around women. Guys too, for that matter. Jerks, most of them. Even then I wasn't gonna play the male thing. Talk, all talk about girls and fucking. All of us knew that none of us were getting laid. Hell, all we had were the few pics we'd seen in magazines some us had found. So, there we were. Me with the whole hormone thing, her too. I even knew the right words. The trainer was like that. Put it on the line. 'Want your dogs to behave? Convince them you're boss dog. Alpha. Do that and the rest is easy.' I paid attention. Listened to something else, too. Our instincts. Halfway into the class she was in my face with her ass. 'Come on. You're in charge here, deal with *this*.' Ya know, canine body language ain't all that different from human. Lust did the rest. Took some time but I figured out where we could have all the privacy I needed. Damn sure she didn't care. Know something? The parts fit together once we got our act together. So, the first week or so, we fucked. Took the edge off both of us. She didn't flag every damn dog she met and I started thinking again. Yeah, we bonded. Fucked ourselves into exhaustion damn near every day. Without the hormones raging so much, I relaxed. Then she went out of heat. I figured it was over. Damn bitch. She had other ideas. Drug me to our special place every day and made it damn clear that we weren't there to cuddle. At least she didn't want that until we'd screwed each other. Guys got suspicious. 'What's with you? Some sort of fag or something?' I just laughed. 'Nah. I'm het. Don't do the back door bit. Just not ready for anything and honest enough to admit it. Someday.' That always got grins. Wry admissions that they weren't ready either. Not all the way. Couple went the back door route. No big deal, rest of us covered for them. Kept looking at girls, guys. Still figured I'd go het but was in no hurry. No pressure since I was getting laid every day. Plenty of time to think and the thoughts finally settled. Fuck it. Stay with a sure thing. Definitely het, knew damn sure I enjoyed the male-female action. Had a partner who wouldn't let me stop, too. Later, older, guy talk, even some female talk, convinced me I'd made a choice. Yah, even a time or two with a girl. Only made it worse. Hell, by then I knew enough to make the right moves. Better than a lot of guys did. She got clingy, but it wasn't the same. Felt used, No return on investment, if you know what I mean. Stayed with the bitch. Cuddled. Afterglow. Hell again, bottom line was mutual appreciation. Lot more there than the games. We knew, and let each other know. Been avoiding it but you know what I mean by now. Yeah, *that* word. Love. And we meant it. Yeah, I play the game. Hide reality, even from my close friends. From you. Hey, don't get me wrong, you mean a lot. Hell of a lot. Isn't your fault that I'll never get my head into the whole man-woman thing. Wasn't meant to be, that's all. Right there. *She's* the center of my life. My lover. Look at those brown eyes and tell me she doesn't feel the same about me. Can't, can you? Sure, no hands. No hugs, either. Can't say I've missed what I never had. Love? Yeah, I have plenty. For her and you. Like I said though, ain't a woman alive, man either, who can get me to think 'sex'. Just the way it is, that's all. Hmm? That's OK. Welcome to drop by any time. Ain't me thinkin' about walkin'. You ain't the first. Bothered? Yeah, sure it bothers me. Not many able to wrap their heads around who I am. 'S OK. I got a few friends who know. Managed to meet a few folks who are the same as I am. Folks who decided they can't do the man-woman bits, leastwise not all the way. I ain't putting no pressure your way. Stupid. It don't work that way. You accept, whatever... Or you don't. Life's simple that way, you look at it right. A hug? Sure. I can do that much. You look like you need one. Get your head sorted and all that. I'll be here, if. Yeah... I'll be here. So will she. You see, like I said at the beginning. For me, love's definitely... A bitch. Take care of yourself, won't you? ~~~ The Bitch Who Owned Me (MC, best, 'not my typical work', caution) --- OK... This short foray into the world of MC was inspired by rache's 'The Dog Who Owned Me'. You really should read her work before you read mine, because it's... Just much better, that's all! Thanks, rache, for giving me such an impossible goal to reach for, with the jealousy driven 'Someday, I'll write something *almost* as good as her work!' To you, the reader who dares to go further, 'Ya never know, you might just be in Kansas!' This ain't my typical work, either. You've been warned... (So be careful about giving in to those random impulses to pull off the interstate for a quick snack.) ------------- The Bitch Who Owned Me -------- I was driving to nowhere in particular after my girlfriend dumped me, when I decided I was hungry and wondered if I could find a store or cafe soon. Right on cue, when I topped the next gentle rise, there was an exit and a small general store, as if my mind had sensed it was there. I shook the whimsy off and parked. There was a large dog sleeping in front of the door, and when it raised its head to study me, it was obviously a bitch, because a head that... Feminine looking, couldn't possibly be on a dog's body. She watched me while I trudged up the steps, and when I reached the top we studied each other until I sighed. "Sorry, beautiful, but you're too big for me to step over. Appreciate it if you move so I can go inside." She stood, stretched, then turned sideways and shouldered the door open... And instead of going in, looked back at me. "Woof!" "Guess that means you want me to go in while you hold the door open?" "Woof!" "Ok. I'm going." She waited until I was past, came in far enough so the door closed behind her, then she sat and watched me the way a guard dog would, but there wasn't that same... Distrust in her posture. I looked around and spotted something that surprised me, a small lunch counter, with a man standing behind it. He was grinning. "Bitch don't open the door for many. Got to say the word 'beautiful', or she makes you step over her. Hungry? What'll you have." "I don't have much cash with me. You take ATM cards?" "I do, but Bitch won't let me take money when she's decided you belong here." I sighed. "Way out here? Bet you need all the money you can get, to keep the door open." I reached for my wallet, and my hand hit her nose instead. "Grrrr...." "Told you. Now she's telling you. You don't need money to get some food." Then he looked lower, at his bitch. "Give him one of your leashes?" "Woof!" "Right." Then he looked at me. "While I get the leash, you be looking over the menu." He went over to a display of leashes and collars, reached for one of the leashes... "Grrr..." "Left?" "Grrr!" His hand moved slowly to the right, and when he stopped in front of a blue one that had the word 'bitch' stitched into it, her tag wagged. "Right." He took it off the hook and brought it back. "Here. Loop it over your neck so it's in plain sight, or fold it and hook it over your belt so it can be seen." "I don't understand." "Don't need to, yet. Just means you've been here, and Bitch says you're ok. Also means you're safe to take in, so you probably won't make it to the hotel before you get taken into someone's home for the night." I sighed. "And it will be free, right?" "You learn fast, son. That's good. Should have expected it, since Bitch approved you. You decided on your lunch?" "Don't see any prices. Can't decide." "When it's all free, it don't need to have a price, right?" "I guess." I looked around and spotted Bitch, who was settled in front of the door and watching me intently. When our eyes met she growled. "Might as well order something." "Or I don't get to go?" "Like I said. You're a fast learner." "Steak dinner, then. Tired of fast food. Well done on the steak." "Got it." His hand moved to his neck, and that was when I realized he was wearing a collar. "You into bondage or something?" He laughed and looked at Bitch after he put my steak on to cook. "Manner of speaking. Call it a town custom. Collars are easier to see than a wedding band. Means I'm married, and I get left alone, unless my wife decides to share me." "Grrr..." "Only mentioning it, Dear. Not thinking about it, much, any more." My head finally made the connection. "You're one of those animals fuckers!" "So are you, son. Get used to it." "No!" I spun the stool, started to get up... And screamed when I was met by a set of bared teeth that would have looked good on a shark. "Snarl!" "Take it easy, son. Whatever life you had, it's over, one way or the other." I slowly sat down again and that got me a single wag of her tail and the teeth vanished, to be replaced with a grin. I made it a statement. "Bitch understands." "Yep. All of them do. You might as well accept it, because if you leave, the feral ones will get you, and they're... Casual about the humans they use." "Casual?" "They don't plan for the future, because we're a renewable resource to them. They get tired of you, or something happens so you can't keep up, you turn into bitch shit. "Town bitches aren't like that. They aren't all monogamous, but when they choose you, it's for life, and they help make sure it's a long one, even if you can't service them in bed." I heard a plate hit the counter, and he spoke gently. "It's a done deal, son. Might as well relax and let it happen. Once you've accepted it, you'll get to feeling like you never wanted anything else in your life. You'll see. Eat. Bet you're hungry, anyway." It was like his simple comment was a switch, and I realized I was ravenous. I wound up eating two steaks, and he just laughed when I seriously considered a third one. I burped, and realized that for the first time since the arguments between my girlfriend and I had started, I was content with life again. I held out my hand. "Thanks. I'm Ted. Never caught your name, if you mentioned it." He shook my hand and smiled. "Everybody calls me Argus. I had a different name a long time ago, but I only use it when somebody official comes through. Have to look it up every time, because I never can remember it." Suddenly there was some excited barking outside and Bitch spun and snarled at the door before she ran over and braced herself against it when it started to open.. Argus joined her and added his weight, then locked it as soon as he could. They both relaxed, then he faced me. "They know you're in here. They wouldn't have hurt you, just acted like overgrown puppies to suck you outside. Then... They'd strip you in seconds and decide if they wanted to keep you for themselves, or not." "If they didn't want me?" "Depends. You collapse from fucking, they'd likely leave you there and go away. Argue with them too much, they 'd rape you anyway, then leave. Hurt one, and... You'd get punished before they have you for dinner, while you're still alive." Suddenly there were a lot of savage snarls, followed by yips of intense pain, then an oppressive silence. A huge dog nosed the door and Bitch tilted her head. "Urf?" "Arf!" She stood and pawed at the lock. Argus laughed and unlocked the door. As soon as the bolt clicked back, Bitch lunged and shoved through the door so fast the other dog had to dance backwards to avoid her rush. When it turned, it had its tail high, and I could see it was another bitch. Argus noticed where I was looking and he chuckled. "Bitches, all of them. You won't see a dog, anywhere. Come on. Safe enough, now. Looks like the patrol killed all of them. Must have been a newly formed pack and they decided to test the rules." I almost lost my lunch when I stepped through the door and got a good look. Argus just shrugged. "There's a treaty between the town and the feral packs. They leave us alone, and don't touch the people, the feral packs get left alone. Violate it, and the violating pack gets exterminated by the town, if the other ferals haven't done it already. In return, we give them medical care when they need it, and help them survive when times are lean. "Help me get rid of the bodies, then I imagine the patrol will escort you to town. Leave your keys and I'll park your car out back with the others." We took the bodies across the road and left them in the field. When I asked about burying them, or something, Argus shrugged. "They're downwind, and won't be there long enough to stink up the place, anyway." He lifted his head to study the circling ravens. "Ravens have spotted them already, and the ferals watch the ravens. Be nothing but bones in a few hours." "Dogs..." "Snarl!" I flinched and looked at the dog that had hit my leg with her nose. It was the same one who had been outside the door. Argus just laughed, then looked at her. "Just got here from outside. Them folks don't care enough to use the terms right." "Grrr...." "Right. I'll tell him." He sighed. "Like I said, nothing but bitches around here, and they don't want to be called anything but what they are. Be best if you remove 'dog' from your vocabulary, unless you're talking about ones that have dicks, then it's ok." I sighed. "Was it this weird for you?" "Worse. I was gay. Took a month of never getting laid, and a few other things, before I settled in and realized bitches are better sex partners than something with a prick. Didn't care for cunts at first, but these gals have ways of helping you make discoveries about yourself. Anyway, you were going to say?" "I was going to ask about bitches eating bitches." "Meat's meat, and at least, if it's another bitch, it's mostly nutritionally balanced, so they don't have to drift into town as often for dietary supplements." "Err..." "I know what you're thinking. No. Folks from town eat meat, but we're not cannibals, even though the bodies get left for the ferals and anything else that wants to scavenge them." I shuddered. "No graveyard?" "Nope. Can't afford what would happen if someone from outside got their hands on a body." Suddenly I felt like something was forcing me to turn my head until I was staring at the large bitch who'd nudged me. Argus laughed. "She likes you. Let's go back, so the ferals can have lunch." I couldn't move to follow him. "You're very beautiful, you know." She stood and turned so she could raise her tail and let me see her sex, and without thinking I stepped, knelt, and began stroking it gently. "I wish I knew your name. Doesn't feel right to keep calling you a bitch." "Arf!" I sighed. "Wish I knew what that meant." Argus chuckled. "She's agreeing with you, sort of. Unmated bitches don't have names. She wants you, and that means you get to suggest names until she likes one of them. Marriage ritual, kinda." I gulped. "You mean?..." "Yep. Man and Bitch, son. There's a flip side, of course. Your name isn't Ted any more. She'll come up with a name for you, and help you figure out what it is." I nodded, and then studied my... Wife. It was like I'd never seen a bitch before, and she was the first one I'd looked at like she was a real person. She was beautiful, but there was something else. Her beauty wasn't... Elegant. While I'd been thinking and looking, my fingers had been exploring, since it was obvious she wanted the attention. Sometimes her haunches would flex when I pushed into her, and I remembered a line from a book I'd read. "You have very comely haunches." "Woofwoof!" "What? You like that compliment?" "Arf! Grrr..." "Yes, but? I said something you agree with?" "Arf!" "I don't get it... Oh. Argus was telling me I get to name you." "Arf!" "Got it. Haunches?" "Snarl!" "I get the message. Only one other word that makes sense as a name. You like the name 'Comely'?" "Woofwoof!" She pulled away and turned around so she could lick my face, and her joy was all I could feel, and her body was all I could see, until Argus chuckled. "Comely, is it? You didn't have the look of an old fashioned romantic. Comely!" I had the impression her head turned reluctantly as she focused on him. He sighed. "Yeah, I know. But my place is neutral territory, and we can lock the door so the ferals don't mistake the two of you for food while you're helpless." Her ears went flat, and she actually sighed before she perked and turned back to nudge my crotch. I stood "I'm not *that* stupid. I want to fuck you, too." "Arfarf!" Argus and I started walking back, and I finally realized the rest of the bitches were surrounding us while they were glancing backwards. When I looked, I shivered. There must have been at least ten bitches savagely ripping chunks of flesh from the bodies we'd left in the field. Argus spoke casually. "Those are the local ones who keep an eye on things around here. They're more used to people, and dealing with the town bitches. They're tough, but they know they're no match for a patrol that's still high from a successful hunt. It's the packs who show up later that we need to worry about. To some of them, anything that's meat is potential food, and they don't care if it's dead or not when they start eating." "Got it. Let's get inside so I can expect to survive my honeymoon." He laughed. "And so Comely can figure out a name for you. Don't be surprised when she uses the letter chart to spell it out for you. Every building has one, and we'll have to get you a pocket version." "Spelling?" "That's if she hasn't found another way to tell you." "Sounds mysterious." "Call it a rite of passage. If I told you, it wouldn't..." Bitch snarled at him and he shut up. By the time we got inside I was already starting to take my clothes off, I was that horny. Comely looked around, then went over and got on a platform that put her at just he right height I could fuck her. I didn't think about not being able to, or have any doubts and questions when she raised her tail. I was as ready as she was, so I got behind her and bent so I could lick her like a dog would, until she was really wet, then I stood up and fucked her. She was tight, and that tightness seemed like it went on forever, until suddenly my dick hit air, and it felt like my shaft was inside the deepest asshole sphincter in the world. It was like fucking a cunt that had the muscles of an asshole, and that ring of muscle was almost as long as my dick. Almost the last thing I remember about my first bitch fuck was that I knew that if I ever fucked a woman again, I'd be comparing the woman to Comely, and not the other way. It made perfect sense to do it that way, because it was obvious that bitches and men were designed to fuck each other. It wasn't until many days later that I thought about how complete my change in attitude had been, when it was pointed out by someone else. Then, Argus' calm words about feeling like I'd never wanted a different life, made sense, and all I did was shrug. Comely froze and let me do all the work, but her whines and panting told me she was enjoying herself quite a bit, which made me work harder at trying out things that made her do it even more, and... I was buried in her when a nose hit my ass and a tongue stroked my balls. Then other tongues hit my legs, and another bitch braced her front feet on the platform and nosed my mouth, which had a will of its own, and it opened for her tongue, which proceeded to clean my cheeks from the inside. It was too much, and I orgasmed, and pulsed, and jerked Comely back, and then, when I was done, I went back to fucking her without losing my erection. I never thought about stopping, or pulling out to recover. I kept fucking Comely, the other bitches kept working me and giving me attention, and I peaked again... And I kept going and we did it all again, and... When I came out of my trance, I was on my back and wondering how the Hell I'd got there. A head on my chest shifted. "Urrr?" Memories flooded back. "If you're asking me how I feel, I'm sore, exhausted, and... "Starving!" "Arf?" "Yeah. Otherwise, I think I'm ok." A different nose hit my crotch and licked my penis, which to my horror, was getting erect. "Hey! Can I please go to the bathroom and eat, first?" Giggles made me blush. "Leave him alone, girls. Let's get him home, before you put him in the hospital and have to wait weeks instead of hours, before you get fucked again." "Grrrrr..." The head on my chest left it. "SNARL!!" The giggles changed to laughter. "At least one of you knows enough to let him recover, and since she's the Alpha, there won't be any arguments." A hand touched my face and turned my head. "You can open your eyes, whoever you are. It's not a dream." I opened my eyes and stared, then spoke before my brain kicked in. "If I'd never seen Comely, I would have thought you're beautiful." "Comely?" "The bitch I fucked." "That doesn't help much. Argus said you fucked all of them at least twice each before you passed out." "Urf!" She smiled at the bitch who had her head on my chest again. "Oh. Of course. I should have realized you were the one who owns him, now. She named you yet?" "If she has, she hasn't told me. I... Err... Last I remember, I was still fucking her during the first time, and I hadn't stopped yet." Masculine laughter rumbled thought the air. "Nurse, meet 'Yote', short for 'Coyote'. I think it has something to do with his stamina. Never seen anything like it. He fucked Comely until she collapsed, then kept going and fucked the rest of the patrol until they were the ones who quit. "When they did, he went down so hard I called you, then covered him and asked the patrol to surround him to immobilize him and share their body heat." "Thanks, Argus. Wish I could remember what happened." "Security cameras caught it all. I'll dupe a tape and send you a copy. Comely told us your name after she woke up. She went to the bathroom, had something to eat, then settled with her head on your chest and hasn't moved since. You're definitely hers, Yote, but she's willing to share you with the rest of the patrol." "I hope I can survive the experience." "You will. You up to eating?" "Like I said, I feel starved." He laughed. "You *should* feel that way. You were a fucking machine for almost 18 hours, then you passed out for another twelve. Don't try to move. Nurse can prop you up, and I'll bring over some finger food that's been waiting for your appetite." After I'd eaten my way through the food, I burped and petted Comely. "This is weird. I've never had a bitch or a dog in my life before. Some friends do, and I've petted them a few times. Damn sure I never thought about fucking any of them, and... "I didn't have to think about it, or have any questions or doubts. I did it, and now, it's like I know men and bitches were designed to fuck each other." I blushed. "Sorry, Nurse. I'm not usually so blunt." She smiled. "The Bitches don't see the point of all the games we used to play, so they don't let us play them. You're new, and the patrol is letting you feel the changes while they happen. Some folks they've decided to fuck, they don't bother. Means Comely has some plans for you that involve you understanding more than usual." "Don't let us play the games?" "You think it's normal for a man to fuck ten bitches in a row?" "I do now... Oh." "Right. They're inside our heads. Got some kind of weird power that lets them control people and make you think it's all your idea, if they let you remember what happened. "Bet you felt something about this place being a place you had to stop at, right? Most folks don't even know it's here. They have sentries or something and make folks so they can't see it. "Anyway, what happened was Comely's way of letting you know what the real situation is." Argus' earlier description of the ferals suddenly surfaced and I shivered and stared at Comely, then looked at the other bitches. "The ferals. They don't care, do they? They'll deliberately use a man and let him fuck himself to death. Is that what this was all about? A lesson?" Argus was sober. "You're right about the ferals. Isn't always humans they use. Coyotes, stray dogs... If it can't fuck them, they force it to fuck anything else that happens to be the right size, or even masturbate itself to death." He shook himself and laughed. "You can relax. That's not going to be your fate. When Comely and the rest of the patrol are in heat, you're going to be siring a lot of puppies." Nurse sighed. "Not just puppies." "Oh, yeah. Forgot about that. Bitch don't let me think those thoughts very often, any more." "I haven't either, until I got here and saw Yote." I broke in. "Hey! It's impossible for humans and animals to fuck and have kids." Nurse smiled. "You keep thinking that until you fuck Comely and she has your puppies." "What about you? Am I really supposed to get you pregnant?" She shrugged. "I'm not a virgin. I am part of the patrol, and when you aren't fucking them, you'll be fucking me or I'll be fucking you. I'll take longer to catch than they do, but they're patient about that sort of thing. Besides, they can tell when women are the most fertile and likely to catch. If they want me to get pregnant, they'll make us mate until it happens, if we aren't doing it on our own when Comely says we can." "Says we can?" "Can you think about fucking me?" "Huh? Think about what?" "Never mind. All I was saying is that when the time is right, it looks like you'll be fucking the entire patrol and fathering their puppies." "Oh, yeah. Sounds like a turn on. Puppies, huh? Be nice to be a father. You think they'll let me play with them and... What about after they're grown up enough? Am I going to have to fuck them, too?" "Up to Comely. Right now, you'd better worry about recovering enough you can walk to town and settle in with us." "Us?" "I'm their housekeeper, too. We all live in a two story on this edge of town. Be nice to have a man around full time." "Everybody calls you Nurse?" "That's what I was, before. Most of the time I'm a vet for the patrols. Since I live with Comely and her pack, I was the one that got sent out to make sure you were ok." "Am I?" She glanced sideways at a bitch who had been sneaking up my legs, on her way to my crotch. Comely 'rrred' at her and she grumbled and backed off until she could rest her head on my lower leg. Comely sneezed, then relaxed but kept one eye open so she could watch the other bitch. Nurse laughed. "She thinks you are, but Comely knows better. Last time any of us heard of a guy fucking like that, he was a biker the ferals ambushed and left to die." "Did he?" Argus laughed. "No. Bitch was a patrol leader back then, and she didn't waste any time with the usual rituals. She got inside my head and forced my body to live while the doctor patched up all the nips and tears." "Sounds pretty far fetched, that a bitch could force a dying human to live." "Surprised the Hell out of me, when I woke up. But, can't be any worse than helping you fuck ten bitches for eighteen hours, right?" "Uhh... Hey, you say it happened, so I'll believe you, but how come my dick isn't so raw it's bloody and hurting like Hell?" "You weren't fucking all the time. When they couldn't keep it erect, you were working them with your hands and mouth. They even gave you a couple of bathroom breaks, sort of." "Sort of?" "How do bitches take care of puppies that are too young to go somewhere else?" "Oh. Kinky stuff, huh?" "No. Natural as breathing, for bitches. Nothing kinky about it, just a fact of life Not the first time I've had to get out the scoop and mop." "Yeah. Makes sense, now. You sure it was eighteen hours?" "Could be a bit more, or a bit less. Used most of a twenty-four hour security tape." "Wow. Umm... Is it ok for me to get up? I need to go, all of a sudden." Argus shrugged. "Up to Nurse." "Help him get to his feet, Argus. He needs to move around so his muscles loosen up." "Right." He bent slightly and held out his hand. "Grab on." I did, he braced, and then he helped me up. I winced and groaned while I found my balance, then, when I tried to step, screamed and doubled over in pain. "Hang on to me, Yote. Nurse? Got any of the good stuff? Jab him in a haunch." I felt the sting of a needle, and a few seconds later the pain was washed away and I could straighten up. "What was that stuff?" She sighed. "What else? Morphine. When Argus told me what you'd been doing, I filled a couple syringes before I came." Then she spoke again, but it wasn't to me. "You've seen it happen to others and I've warned you. But you all got carried away like a bunch of ferals, didn't you?" "Grrr..." "Knock it off. Just because you haven't been laid for awhile is no excuse to nearly kill the man who's going to be your mate, right?" "Arf!" "Hmmph! Well, if you girls don't lose it when you're in heat, at least you know he can survive pretty much anything you make him do." "Woof!" She shifted her attention back to me. "Lean on me, and I'll help you to the bathroom. From there, since you're on the morphine already, we'll all go home, and then... You're going to bed for at least a day, and... I'll try to convince these sluts to leave you alone." "Thanks. Can we get moving? I'm close to losing it." She laughed. "Come on, then. No point in making Argus get his mop and scoop out again." When Nurse helped me stagger out of the bathroom, Comely was waiting for us and she had my leash in her jaws. Nurse bent and took it, then tied a loop in it and settled it around my neck. "Temporary, until you can get a collar with Comely's name stitched in it." She laughed. "Nobody's going to try anything anyway, not the way you smell. Anyone who gets within fifty feet is going to know you've been fucking bitches, even though none of them are in heat." I blushed. then headed for my clothes, and got met by a set of teeth. All I could do was sigh. "No clothes, right?" The bitch blocking me looked at Comely and must have seen an answer she liked, because her tail wagged enthusiastically. I sighed again and looked at Nurse, who was smiling. "Weather's nice, and we won't be out long enough for you to get a burn started... She looked at Comely. "Ok if I put some sunscreen on the critical parts?" Comely sneezed, then went over to the shelves and came back with a tube of sunscreen and offered it to Nurse, who blushed for some reason, then took it. I was startled when she went to her knees and reached for my dick with her free hand, then worked me until I was erect. "Uhh... Nurse?" She ignored me, took me in her mouth, and started giving me a seriously intense blow job. In desperation I looked for Comely, and discovered her watching me. When our eyes met, she thumped her tail happily, and as soon as she started, nine other tails thumped on the floor at the same time, while all of them grinned at me. No help there, and if I had the new rules figured out, I was supposed to relax and let it happen. So I did, and Nurse quickly got me off and licked me clean after she swallowed and wiped the overflow from her chin... Then she reached again and spoke as if nothing had happened. "Here. I'll coat your dick and ass so you don't have to worry about them burning and peeling." When I glanced Argus, he shrugged. "Get used to it, Yote. She doesn't know it happened. Neither will you, sometimes. Holes in your memory are a fact of life, now." When I looked at Comely, she had her lips peeled back in a huge grin, so I decided to do a shrug of my own. "Got it, Comely. I do what you make me do, and think what you want me to think, when you want me to think it, sometimes. Appreciate it if you don't use my prick as long as you did this time. Wouldn't mind being able to remember the entire experience, either, once in awhile." Nurse stood and worked some of the cream into my face and neck before she pulled away. "There you go. You're ready, so whenever Comely is ready to head home, we can leave." "What about my clothes?" "Argus will put them in your car after he washes them. When Comely's ready for you to have new ones, she'll take you shopping." "Ok." I turned to Argus. "Thanks for everything, Argus." "You're welcome, Ted. You ever get out this way again, drop in and say hi. In the meantime, have a safe trip back home." My eyebrows went up, then I looked at Bitch, who dipped her head slightly, so I refocused on Argus. "I'll do that, Argus. Might be awhile." "No problem. We'll be here." Comely nudged my leg and pointed her nose at the door, so I shut up and led the way. After we got outside, and the patrol surrounded us, I glanced back to see that Bitch was resettled in front of the door, and watching us. Nurse noticed my focus, and she spoke quietly. "He's already forgotten you. As far as he knows now, he runs a small store next to the interstate and he just served another traveler he'll probably never see again. Bitch will remember, though, and if you're ever out this way, she'll turn his memory on, if she feels she needs to. Safer that way, for all of us." "Yeah. Makes sense." I looked down. "Ok, Comely." She sneezed, then stepped out confidently and headed for the road, which looked like it went on forever, with no signs of a town. When we hit the shoulder of the road I looked back and gasped. There was no sign of Argus' store. Nurse must have known how I was feeling because she touched my arm to get me to face her. "Relax. It's there. We're not being allowed to see it, that's all." I glanced over my shoulder again, then turned back. "Not being allowed to see what?" She ignored my question and gestured in the direction we'd been walking. "Come on. House on the corner is where you'll be living." I looked at the tree lined streets, well tended houses, and smiled. "Nice neighborhood. How far to town?" "Main shopping plaza is less than a mile from the house. Easy walking distance, once you recover from fucking the entire patrol." I chuckled. "Right." We linked arms, Comely settled at my left side, and the twelve of us went home. --- End: The Bitch Who Owned Me ~~~ Not a lot of activity in this one. 'Routine Contact' starts with a basic concept I expressed a long time ago, but for some reason, I never wrapped a story around it: "Because of their dedication to understanding their non-human partners, zoosexuals might be an ideal choice as contact specialists and translators if we ever find ourselves dealing with aliens." Chapter one introduces the primary characters, and sets up some of the background in this universe. Right now, I don't have any solid ideas about what lies in the future for them. What I tentatively envision is an episodic serial similar to the Man and Muse work, but science oriented, and not as Earth centric. ----- Routine Contact Introduction -------- "Well? Where are they?" "Third planet. Lots of low spectrum stuff. Xeno thinks they're still transitional for some reason. Lots of moving point sources. Probably personal communications devices." "Mid level tech base, then. Good. How's their detection of high spectrum?" "None, as... Wait... New report. New analysis. Millions of high spectrum devices in use. Limited range, that's the reason we didn't detect anything this far out. Probe data indicates there are so many in use, ours will go undetected, as long as we configure to match their emissions patterns." "What about their military? What's the risk assessment?" "Some, of course. No signs of anything we shouldn't be able to neutralize or deflect. Hints of a detection system that's a primitive version of our targeting locator, so they might be able to detect that and track it." "Tracking is an acceptable risk, since we don't anticipate any hostile engagements in this system. What about anything they can send at us?" "Uncertain. Some near space activity, but we haven't seen any of their shuttles or other space capable hardware, so we don't know, yet. Tech is still searching the global information network for more on that. There's so much on it, the filters are taking longer than usual to sort through and find what we're looking for." "Do the best you can. Any suggestions?" "Xeno has one. Tech species is bipedal. Lots of shape bias, of course, but they are certain there is a fringe group that isn't shape biased. Their suggestion is send teams down that resemble some of the cohabiting quadrupeds, then let them see if they can make contact for recruiting purposes." "Recruiting?" "Yes. Samples of their entertainment indicate there is a specialty form that routinely explores alien contact as inevitable. Xeno wouldn't mind the chance to do some experiments." "From that, I infer that we can't just come in openly and say hello to our neighbors?" "Too much native suspicion, I'm afraid. Still, limited recruiting is better than periodic harvesting." "True. Let me know when the teams are ready, then we'll stealth and do the insertions. How long should we give them?" "As much time as they need to make their decisions." "You being an optimist or pessimist?" "Both. Handled right, the teams might be able to get local cooperation and start a self sustaining colony capable of saving our tech base." "Xeno thinks these..." "Humans. Sir." "Xeno thinks we'll find enough of these humans who are willing to help, yet keep our presence secret?" "It's that fringe group. I'll route some files over, and while we wait, you can study them..." * * * "Xeno." "My office. Now." "Sir?" "I need some questions answered." "But..." "Now." "Yes, Sir." . . . "This one. How did your people miss finding... 'Him', I believe is the correct term?" "Two sexes for reproduction. Seems almost universal. Him for external genitalia, her for internal producers." "Whatever. That's not important. This person should have been flagged for high level contact by one of our best teams, at least. No. Forget that. Should have been marked for my personal attention, if not a special contact team, from home." "Sir? I don't understand. He's an isolate. Hermit type. No contact with anyone, that we can determine." "Fools. All of you. What's the point in having Xeno, if you keep projecting our culture on whoever we find?" "It isn't projecting. He's deliberately isolated himself from his support group. No influence with them, so there's no point..." "ENOUGH!" "But..." "SILENCE! . . . "Very good. I will explain, once. You will listen. "In our terms, the man is a wandering balladeer. He communicates, through the medium of the global information exchange, with *anyone* on the planet. What he communicates, are *ideas*, to anyone willing to read his communications. Do you understand me, so far?" "Yes. That was taken into consideration, and his work has been analyzed. Normal stuff. Fantasies mixed with truth." "I will try, one more time, to convince you that Xeno has been projecting our culture. Who's 'truth' have you been seeing? His culture's, or ours? Are you going to tell me that the value system he uses in his work, while normal for us, is normal, *in his culture*? "Not only that, how could you have missed this article he wrote, about the members of his peer group being ideal for first contact? "We've been *anticipated*, in such accurate detail it frightens me, and it should have made Xeno start looking over their shoulders, to see if some of these humans aren't working on contacting us!" . . . "Obviously, we handled this one very badly. Do you have any suggestions?" "Yes. Find him. Discover his preferences, then cosmetics will make the proper alterations in my appearance, and I will be dropped nearby, alone, so I can make contact." "Alone? Regulations..." "Who writes those regulations?" "You do, Sir." "You do, after all, show signs of some common sense. "You have a job to do. Do it." * * * "Contact teams are down safely, and as far as we know, undetected." "The synth-analyst?" "She's been placed, and is undetected, too." "Good. Stay stealthed until we're parked at system nadir, then make sure we aren't occluding anything they might be interested in." "Yes, Sir. Sir? A question?" "Go." "Do you think he'll see past the cosmetics and realize she's not a... Bitch, I think their term is?" "Cosmetics has never failed before, but she's counting on him spotting her for what she is." "That doesn't make sense." "Genius never does. Try this one. She, and those few like her, are more alien to us, than any of the aliens we've met since going into space." "But... She's one of us, Sir. That doesn't make sense, that's she's an alien to us." "Ever talked to her about herself?" "No, Sir. She's... It's the way she thinks. It's..." "Relax. She won't get upset if she hears about this. But if you were going to call her type of thinking 'alien', she'd agree with you. See my point?" "I think so. I never thought about her that way, before. She must be pretty lonely." "She is, and she's doing something about it." "A... Human? That... Oh. Thank you, Sir, for pointing out my unconscious bias. I will deal with it while we wait." "Xeno is always looking for good people." "Xeno?! I'm an engineer and shuttle pilot." "It will give you something to think about while we wait. Out." "Out." * * * The middle aged man was relaxing on his porch when his eyes narrowed slightly as something moved in the surrounding trees. A large bitch stepped out and settled on her haunches, then the two of them studied each other for awhile. He spoke easily, "Well, girl. Never seen you before. I'm friendly. Want some lunch?" Her head tilted as if she were considering his offer, then she stood and walked in his direction. She was barely half way to him when he sighed, then laughed. "Well. So it's happened at last. I don't expect I'm the only one being contacted, but thanks for stopping by to say hello. You can drop the pose. It's a good job, but you aren't a real bitch. "Welcome to Earth, whoever you are." She froze and her head lifted when she posed regally, then she shook herself and finished walking over to his porch. She sat again and spoke easily. "Thanks for making me richer. I *told* cosmetics we'd get something wrong and you'd spot me. How?" "Cosmetics? How much of that body is still you?" "Lengthened my torso and legs, then modified my ears quite a bit. Fur and coloring is all mine. So are the vocal cords." "Ah. That explains it. You from a higher g world than mine? We have breeds that walk that daintily, but the breed you resemble isn't one of them. It was the way you moved that gave you away, mostly." "Twenty percent higher, but shipboard has been kept at yours to help the contact teams adapt. Mostly?" "You didn't flinch when I spoke to you as an equal. A long time companion dog might stroll across my yard the way you did, but the average stray dog would have either ducked back into hiding, or run to me eagerly." "You're taking this well." "Been hoping someone would get my message before I died. Thanks again for dropping by, but aren't there others *you* need to see as part of the contact process?" "It isn't an open contact. Generally speaking, your people don't have the right mindset to do well in our culture." He stiffened, then nodded thoughtfully. "If it isn't open, why make contact at all?" "Two reasons. Well, no. There's a third one, but it's a personal one." "I'm listening." "It's always better to recruit, than it is to harvest. We're not military, but volunteers are always better at their jobs than conscripts. That's true in every culture we've made contact with." "Ok. As far as I know, that's true in ours, too." "The second reason is we feel that with enough local help, we might be able to establish a hidden colony, that will act to save our tech base if something happens to our home worlds." "Makes sense. You can count on my help, during the brief time I have left to live." Her head tilted. "Brief time? According to what we know, humans average seventy to eighty of your years, of productive living. You're barely past forty. In your terms, thirty to forty years is not 'brief'." He sighed. "From that, I assume you never bothered to research my medical history. I'm dying slowly, but I am dying. Best estimate is no more than ten years left." "Fixable." He studied her, then nodded. "Ok. For now, I'll take your word for it. How many more years can you give me, if I decide to pay whatever price you're planning on asking me to pay?" "As many as you want." "Maybe you'd better tell me that personal reason, so I can quit guessing." "Like calling to like. I'm a synth-analyst, and there are so few of us, we work and live alone." He finally nodded. "I see. Your own people fear you and find you alien, more alien than they find my people. You're lonely, and when you read what I've written, you decided there was no need for that condition to continue." "Correct. Xeno thought you were an isolate, with no influence, and thus ignored you. I have hopes that I corrected their tendency to project *their* values on *your* world-culture." He laughed briefly at her tartness, then sobered. "You implied functional immortality?" "I did. Once you are processed, even if your current body is destroyed in an accident, you can be recreated and returned to the state of your most recent update." "How often are these updates?" "Real time to the ship data banks. Delay of only a few minutes to the home world. Explorers are precious to us, because their skills are rare. For the average citizen, the update is daily because of fewer significant changes in their lives, and they seldom get the immortality option." "You imply I will have to travel on your ship." "True, when it leaves. Because we are seeking to establish a colony, the minimum time we will spend here is about 100 of your years, to assure ourselves the colony is self sustaining and successfully hidden." "What will I have to do to earn this immortality?" "Kiss me as if you love me. Either end will do." "I understand, maybe. You have physical and mental needs?" "Of course, but the reason you must kiss me is a practical one. The replicators will be transferred in my fluids. Once they realize they are in a new host, they will respond appropriately and begin the rebuilding process." "An enjoyable way to earn immortality. What job will I be expected to do as payment?" "A synth-analyst does as she or he desires, most of the time. Some call it meddling, if you weren't consulted first." "You call it?" "In your terms, 'keeping aware of the bigger picture and taking a long term view of things'." "Are you a multi species culture?" "Yes." "Will you be contacting people who aren't zoos?" "Not this time. Perhaps, in the future, we will contact others, or come openly." "Do you have a preference for which end I kiss first? Are we sexually compatible?" "I am open to new experiences, of course. We are compatible sexually. It seems that the two part reproductive system is the usual one for air breathers." "Implying there are species for whom it isn't normal?" "Yes." He chuckled. "Then I will eventually kiss both ends as we explore each other. Please, be my... Mate, and make yourself at home. You may choose where the activity will take place." "I choose outside, in these natural surroundings. I wish to cleanse my thoughts of ship life." . . . "I see three entrances. Which should I use later?" "The lowest one. The upper is a storage pouch that contains my dietary supplements, in a form readily accessible to the replicators. The middle was for elimination of wastes, originally, and is still occasionally used for that purpose. Both are kept closed by the replicators unless there is need for them to be opened." He stroked her lightly, as he thought about what she'd told him. "Is your fertility also controlled by the replicators?" "Of course. They do not interfere with the normal responses of my body. What you are doing feels different than what a member of my species would do, but it is extremely pleasurable. Continue." He laughed. "I shall. I find the action extremely pleasurable, also." It was her turn to laugh. Eventually he shifted position and tasted her cautiously, then he decided her taste was pleasant enough, and he suckled her eagerly, while mostly forgetting she was not a true canid, as he was used to. The same forgetfulness must have been true for her, because suddenly she drove herself backwards so powerfully he was pushed to his back. Her desire was obvious, so he stripped, then, because he had explored the way with his fingers, he knelt behind her and confidently inserted himself and started fucking her eagerly. When he realized he could feel her internal spasms, he lost control, quickly drove himself to his orgasm and jerked her into his crotch, an action she assisted by forcing herself backwards at the same time. They stayed motionless until he loosened his grip and steadied himself with a hand on her haunch as he lowered himself to the ground, then stretched out to admire his new lover. "You proportions are not what I am used to, but taken together, I find you beautiful." "Thank you." She turned and nosed herself, then inhaled deeply, through her nose. "The odor of your ejaculate is sweeter than what I am used to. I suspect many of my people, of both genders, will find the males of your species quite attractive, orally." Her tongue touched the semen that was oozing, she lapped eagerly, then moved to nose his crotch and spend many minutes cleaning him of their mingled fluids, before she settled with her chin on his chest, and sighed happily. "I'm glad we found your world. Your people and mine will have many children together." He frowned while he was petting her. "Children? Are we that compatible?" "No. We are not that compatible. However, we are an old species and our replicators are very sophisticated. Once they learn your genetic patterns, they will be able to modify your sperm and my ova appropriately, so we may have offspring capable of reproducing themselves." "You speak my language well. Have you been studying us very long?" "Five years. I'm glad our translation program works so well. I do not know your language, yet. My replicators are intercepting my nerve impulses, then using the translation routines to control my vocal cords and produce the equivalents in your language. It is something you will be able to do, once the replicators have learned your body. The same is done in reverse, of course. What I receive through my auditory nerves is not your actual speech, but a translation." "May I hear your true speech?" She barked, yipped and groaned briefly, paused, and then spoke in his language again. "We sound much like your canines do. Many of the emotional tones were missing because I did not wish to stand and add my body language while speaking." He chuckled. "I agree they sound similar, but there is a smoother flow to your speech, which I assume is because the mind speaking is more... Sophisticated." "Given enough time, many of the species here will become as 'sophisticated' in their thinking. The replicators could hasten that process, but we do not intervene in the normal destiny of the world cultures." "But you do select individuals for special attention." "Of course." "May I know what you said earlier?" She hesitated, then focused on his face. "I said I love you with the love given to true mates, and I hope we spend many normal lifetimes with each other, unless duty forces us to separate. I also desire that those separations be brief, if they happen." "Thank you. I don't have your experience, but I feel the desires of a man who has found his mate, and in my way, I love you. It is the shallow love felt by a man new to his mate, and experience tells me it will deepen over time. Thank you, for giving me that time with you." "You're welcome." "Have you been mated before?" "No. I have shared the joining of the bodies to continue my species, but that was physical, and the pairings were arranged ones. Never have I been with a mate who is a mate in the ways of the mind." He suddenly laughed, then moved so they could share an opened mouth kiss before he pulled away slightly. She looked at him. "You are amused." "Of course I am. Our first contact was successful, correct? A wise person makes more than one, to be certain the original message and response were understood correctly. I wish a second contact, and many more, so we may be certain we have communicated the nuances as clearly as we have the surface messages." She laughed. "I see. As you allowed me to choose the first contact, you may choose the second." He chuckled. "Then lie on my stomach, and we will seek further contact, a contact that is less strenuous, so we may savor the nuances." "Our people have much in common. We too, seek to savor the subtle aromas of a relationship." She repositioned herself, he guided himself into her, and they lay together, speaking with their bodies, until they fell asleep. --- End: Routine Contact - Introduction ====== This was done as a response to a newsgroup thread. --- OK, a comment about not understanding the differences between bestiality and zoophilia is almost guaranteed to bring me out of the shadows. :) Since I feel rather strongly that anyone who writes about it *damn-well-better-know-the-difference*, I'll attempt an explanation. --- No, I'm not surprised that common usage by all the porn pedlars has blurred the distinctions. And with Mickey-snort redefining the language as well, confusion is something I expect. Zoophiles themselves are not able to agree on a consistent usage. Be that as it may, I will try to give you some working definitions. The initial ones are what I use. They aren't universally shared but at least they are a good working compromise amongst all the different viewpoints. Pre-money-mongers-generally-accepted-usage is as follows: Bestiality - sex with an animal. (No confusion here - usually.) Zoophilia - in general use, a deep emotional bond with an animal, can include a sexual relationship but doesn't have to. Zoosexual - self-coined within the zoophile 'community' around 1994 to cover all aspects of zoophilism as a lifestyle and to indicate that they see their lifestyle in the same way most people view all the other 'sexualities', be they hetero-, bi- or homo-. 'Zoo' - generic term used within the 'community' (let's not get involved in a discussion of just what the 'community' is) to cover all aspects of zoophilia/zoosexuality. There are other nuances involved here. If you want to get involved in a discussion of the clinical definition of zoophilia vs the Mickeysoft definition... Zoophile, MS style - A lover of animals, especially one opposed to vivisection. (I didn't make that up, it's their definition in Bookshelf 94 and afaik, the one they still use.) Zoophilia, MS style - attraction to or affinity for animals. (see above comment) Zoophilia from a clinical viewpoint is supposed to include the involved person having serious emotional problems as a result and also be unable to perform sexually *except* with an animal. This is from a discussion with someone involved in doing a targetted study of 'zoophiles', whatever they might be in actuality. According to this person, technically, there is no defined category for those folks who are emotionally and/or sexually involved with animals and *don't* have any emotional problems with it. A case of psychologists being lazy and lumping people into a category rather than taking the time to consider there are nuances involved and not everyone fits within one label. When talking to many zoophiles, they will use 'bestialist' to indicate someone who has sex with an animal without regard for his/her feelings and 'zoophile' to indicate someone who has sex with an animal and who also takes into consideration the animal's own feelings and desires. Basically, calling a zoo a bestialist is, within the 'community', one of the worst insults possible. Have I confused you even more? To the general public, bestiality, zoophilia and zoosexuality are all nothing more than animal fucking. Like any other sub-culture, there are nuances that 'outsiders' will have difficulty understanding. Usually, unless people have a reason to look, they never realize the distinctions are there. For practical purposes, when writing, I suggest using my first definitions. Using those will at least let folks know you have taken the time to try and understand the differences. Context should take care of any of the rest. As a trivia note, keep in mind that in the scientific literature, it is accepted practice to call some species of mosquitos - zoophilic. <g> I'll save any discussion of the 'technical details' involved in sex with animals... For a different thread. <vbg> Note: To help further indicate the lack of awareness, or unwillingness to admit there is a difference between zoophila and bestiality, I found this definition in Dr. Ruth's Sex Encyclopedia, 199x ed. Dr Ruth's Encyclopedia of sex "Zoophilia - also called bestiality, zoophilia means sex with animals. While some of the stories about such activities are mythical, such as Leda and the Swan, it is an activity that does occur. In fact, Dr Alfred Kinsey found that a small number of the men he surveyed had sexual contact with animals, although usually only once or twice in their lifetimes. Such practices are not recommended and often illegal." ==== Dr. Ruth had her blind spots, and I feel this was just one of them. She made some other, even more absurd statements, of which I feel the most memorable was her 'observation' that it was typical for a man to gain one inch of penile length, for every ten pounds of excess weight he lost. I'm not making that up! It's easy enough to personally refute that absurdity, or maybe she'd use the excuse that my own weight loss wasn't 'typical'. My length when erect (pre erectile dysfunction) was always between six to six and one half inches. At one time I hit a maximum weight of 275 pounds. After I decided 'enough is enough'. I managed to eventually get myself down to 200 pounds and keep it in that range for almost a year, before a medication change took me back to 235-240 pounds, where it is now stable. A 75 pound loss converts to seven and half inches of additional length! A fourteen inch dick! Yay! Look out, *large* animals! (very tongue in cheek) Yeah. Right. I gained about an inch of usable length, which gave me back my six and a half inches, because of the pubic area fat loss, but that was it. Oh, I also got to *see* my penis without using a mirror, for the first time in years. Dr Ruth? You need some common sense, more knowledge in areas you don't like, or a better proof reader, (probably all of it), to get that ego under control. ~~~ Song Festival, November, 2002 Song Flashback zoo/best M-bitch rom I've chosen to wrap a story around a song I consider one of the most evocative I've ever heard. 'Time in a Bottle'--sung by Jim Croce. I've chosen to mix the lines in as section headers. This is a work of fiction. --- Pathways in My Mind --- "If I could save time in a bottle" I gently work us closer together and savor the feel of my mate's fur against my body as the soothing sounds of 'Time In a Bottle' gently emerge from the stereo to flow across our cooling bodies. No matter how many people sing the song, there is only one singer I will ever think of as having sung it *right*. That singer is Jim Croce. I move my head and gently nibble on one of her ears before whispering: "Hey, lover. He's singing our song." The ear moves slightly as the eye facing me opens to regard me. Satisfied with what she sees, she closes it and stretches seductively before going limp again. From experience I know it's her way of saying "For that, you disturbed me?" I walk my fingers down her spine, an action that meets with her obvious approval. "It would have to be a bottle as big as the universe, my love." * * * "The first thing that I'd like to do Is to save every day Till Eternity passes away Just to spend them with you" I put my fingers on automatic and continue my reflections. "If I could save bits of time, even my own, and give them to someone who deserves them... I wouldn't hesitate to give them to you--even if it meant shortening my own life to extend yours." 'Special' doesn't begin to describe what she has become to me. Companion. Lover. Mate. Partner. She is all these--and more. Oh, she is so much more. When I first got her, it was a case of both of us picking the other. It was a large kennel, which meant a large breeding operation. I didn't realize it then but that sort of operation almost automatically fails to provide enough of the loving, caring attention most dogs need. When a dog is as 'big-hearted' as she is, there is no way they can get the amount of love they need. Thus, even though *I* wasn't aware of what was happening, I was being judged by the dogs as much as I was judging them. Through some sort of winnowing out process she wound up managing to get my attention and keep it in spite of the other dogs that were clamoring for it. Of course, I didn't see it that way those many years ago. Since then she's made it very clear that just as I can't picture a life without her, she has no desire to leave me, either. We both know there have been plenty of times she could have left me if she wanted to. She hasn't--and I treasure her all the more for those decisions. "Yes, my love. If I could save those bits of time when I can't be with you and then use them to have more time to be in your presence, I would." * * * "If I could make days last forever" Ever been so in love that the sex becomes a connection between your resonating souls? Well, when I orgasm during one of our gentle sessions, the moment itself is merely a spike in a timeless flow where she becomes the center of my universe and there is no measurable time. Seduction, entry, the sex, orgasm and the afterglow all become one thing, complete. It's the closest I've been to 'feeling' the concept of 'forever'. I'm certain she feels the connection, too. Why else would she choose those times to quietly stay with me rather than bounce away in her usual display of happiness? Is that timeless time what makes her so aggressive about sex? Now that I think about it, she never has that look of resigned acceptance that most bitches have when they are fucked by a dog. I've allowed her to breed and since we have to watch them closely to verify the mating for the records, I've had many opportunities to study her expression and body language while she waits for the tie to end. The first time she was bred I could tell that she was surprised by what was happening. She didn't pull away but I suspect that was because I was right there soothing her and letting her know everything was as it should be. Since I was holding her, I could tell when she orgasmed. That seemed to make a final connection in her mind and I felt her total acceptance of the situation. If you've ever watched dogs think about something, you know that they all have little movements that let you know how they feel about whatever it is they are thinking about. During all her matings I've watched her movements and they have always been the movements she uses to indicate she is enjoying herself--the same ones she uses while we are making love to each other. As I watch her calmly standing there during the tie, I get a very distinct impression that she is using the situation to take her into the timeless flow that she first learned about with me. And, I'm jealous. I wish it were that easy for me to do. * * * "If words could make wishes come true" Words and wishes. How I *wish* for us to be able to fully communicate with each other. There are times, now rare, when we are both frustrated because we know we aren't connecting. On the other hand, there are times I know she wishes she could fully communicate her love and support. She tries. A soft whine and a gentle touch of a paw let me know that she knows my day has been worse than usual and she wants to help. But, no matter how well we communicate now, we share the pain of wanting more. Family. I guess this one is a wash. She's had puppies several times. I suspect that she considers me their father. I feel that way--but, at the same time, I know, deep down, that I am only a step-father. It's not enough. I want to be the genetic father of our 'kids'. This must be my last wish because I can't think of any others. It's the most important. Please, oh please... If there is kindness out there to be given... Extend her lifespan so it matches mine. * * * "I'd save every day like a treasure and then, Again, I would spend them with you" "Immortality, shared with you, my dearest one--would be a gift beyond my most selfish dreams." I reach out to lightly stroke the sleeping one. Her feet twitch, there is a muffled woof and I know she is dreaming. Her tail wags in short, vigorous strokes, as if inviting play. I see her canine grin of enjoyment. Is she dreaming of us? It doesn't matter. I delight in knowing she is as happy in her dreams as she is in everyday life. If I had to give one overriding reason for wanting to be with her forever, it would be the joy she shares with me every day. * * * "But there never seems to be enough time" I gently run my hand along her side. The working man's curse. Time. Time pissed away at a job that is well paying but no challenge, a dead end that averages an hour's drive from here. Ten to twelve hours a day, five days a week, fifty weeks out of the year I am unable to be in her presence or where she can keep track of me. Add the time it takes me to get ready and the time it takes to unwind and it becomes a solid twelve hours a day that I cannot devote to *her*. Sleep and the preparations for it consume another eight to nine hours a day. When I include shopping and other things that demand my time, we spend well less than one third of our lives doing things we can do together. It's frustrating and more than enough to let me know that it isn't enough. In her way, she's made it clear that she doesn't care for the situation either. * * * "To do the things you want to do Once you find them" Her presence calms me. If only I could have her with me at work, and on those drives to and from work, I wouldn't feel as stressed as I usually do and my recovery time once home would be a lot faster. That would make our time together even more enjoyable because she wouldn't have to spend as much time waiting for me to unwind. I don't see society ever changing enough to let us openly be the partners we truly are. Most people have partners, human partners, that they can be with anytime they do the casual things that mean so much to a relationship. Finding my completion with her has taken that away from me. "Are you listening? Add 'change society's values' to my wish list. Place it second." * * * "I've been around enough to know That you're the one I want to go Through time with." I've had other bitches in my life and each one was special in her own way. There have even been a few relationships with women. After each one ended, for whatever reasons, I knew I could go on. Continuing my life after *she* is gone--will be the hardest thing I've ever done. "Hello? Are you still listening? What sort of pervert are you to create people who have to live *knowing* they will outlive their life-mates? Hell on Earth. Well, I've got news for you. If you send me to Hell and try this again--I'll survive to laugh in your face and curse your 'generosity'!" * * * "If I had a box just for wishes And dreams that had never come true" Thinking about the way I'd like to have things is nice--but it's still just fantasy. I'm too pragmatic, I guess, so the reality is that I've accepted things the way they are and never seriously wished for the things that would make our relationship exactly equal to a human-human one. We are what we are and it's based on what we've already lived though. We've made decisions, mostly good ones, and we somehow manage to find new ways to make our relationship deeper. So, the wishes for more are fleeting rather than ones I hold all the time. This is the world I live in--and it made me what I am now. Change that, and it would change me. From here, the odds of any changes being better--look slim. "Thanks for asking--but I'll stand pat." * * * "The box would be empty Except for the memory Of how they were answered by you" Yes. Without you, I am incomplete, unsatisfied. With you, I am complete. Nobody can take that away from me without destroying me. "Indeed, my love, if I am ever forced to have only one memory, and I get to choose it, the one I keep will be of us--and what we meant to each other." * * * "But there never seems to be enough time To do the things you want to do Once you find them" I know that because of her shorter lifespan and my having to live and work in a human world that makes no concessions to non-human life-mates, our time in each other's presence will be less than if we were human partners. Because of that I make a special effort to bend my path so it shares hers as much as possible when we *are* together. It means not doing some things I'd like to do but life with her is a known quantity, filled with our love for each other. I don't want to reach for a nebulous 'maybe' when it means keeping us apart even more. She's committed herself to traveling through life at my side. I can do no less for her. * * * "I've looked around enough to know That you're the one I want to go Through time with" "Hey, beautiful." The ear perks and the eye opens. My hands drift to her haunches and gently shift her so we are aligned. My entry is lubricated by the fluids left from our first time tonight. Instead of moving, I stop once I am fully inside her. Once I have wrapped my arms around her I move my head slightly and smile as she meets my lips halfway. We share a kiss, relax--and pursue our dreams. ~~~ ASSTR Aniversary - Blanket Festival IMAGE Zoo, flash --- Willing Wantons --- Callie had settled on 'her' blanket and refused to budge when Traci picked up an edge and tried to roll her off so she could wash it. My normal 'I love it when you two fight over her blanket on wash day' followed by my impulsive 'I don't know which of you is sexier' comment had inspired Traci's sudden switch to using the blanket as part of her 'willing wanton' act. Callie must have smelled Traci's mood shift because she looked at me, groaned loudly, stretched her legs out to her side then casually rolled on her back and let her tail relax so she could give me a good look at her vulva. I grinned. "Forget the washing. Let's fuck." "Good plan." Traci dropped the blanket and sauntered down the hallway with Callie beside her. Callie went through the door but Traci paused and looked back over her shoulder. "Well?" "I'm coming!" Traci smirked. "Not yet--but you will be!" ~~~ Challenge: Make and ordinary event seem erotic --- "But, Alexis, you know I prefer to try and get others to see what I see..." TBD eyes the firmly held ruler and the impatiently tapping foot before sighing deeply, resignedly... "OK. I'll give it a shot. Just remember, I warned you..." -- My head turns slightly to the left, and down, so I can look across the top of my glasses to see what time it is. 'It's time.' The thought is comfortable, routine--and an excuse to slide the keboard tray under my desk. My head tilts slightly to the right and I deliberately tense my neck muscles as I turn even further to the left. I feel the ecstasy of vanishing tension when I finish the turn and let my neck muscles relax. My smile is soft and filling with inner peace as my left arm shifts so my fingers slowly caress the amazing creature that shares my life. His eyes open. My fingers rub the fur just below and in front of his left ear. We smile at each other. "Ready to go out?" As he gets up, I slowly lean backwards in my chair. Tense muscles stretch and then sullenly give way to relaxation. Hands behind my head, I force my arms backwards--and more muscles grudgingly, resentfully, agree that they were designed for movement--not as structural reinforcement. My slow groan of pleasure is matched by a similar one to my left. *He* decided to stretch while he was waiting for me to move out of his way. The warm fabric on my chair leaves a lingering trail of softness as it slides along my legs when I stand. As soon as I roll the chair under the desk, he jumps down from the bed and I feel his fur as it slides across my ass. The well worn fabric of my robe, as it contacts my body, is the soft kiss of familiarity as it prepares me for yet another forray into the 'great outdoors'. When I walk to the door, my robe lightly strokes the outsides of my legs while my inner thighs slide across each other to remind me that other than the robe, I am naked. I arrive at my first destination, to be greated by an impatient look. The few seconds I took to get there were far too many. Laghing softly, I reach for the lever and let my fingers touch its metalic smoothness. I push downward firmly. There is the usual muffled 'click' as the latch retracts. He pushes firmly with his nose and the door slams open. Freedom! Sunlight warms me as I step outside and pause to let my eyes adjust. *He* has vanished, probably to take care of his own business before he rejoins me as I make my slow journey across the yard. Languidly, my mind mostly elsewhere, I savor all the sensations that touch me as I make my way to the front gate. A cold, wet nose suddenly makes its way under the edge of my robe to press firmly against the back of my leg. "I have returned, and you are moving too slowly to suit me." We look at each other and share grins. "Quit pushing. Dog." His grin gets bigger. I get my keys out, unlock the gate, open it and slowly pass through the opening. He settles and waits for my return. A few more steps and I reach up, pull open the small door that is before me, then smile wryly before I turn to look at him. "No mail today. Looks like we wasted our time." When I get back inside the yard and close the gate, I am greeted with all the enthusiasm of a lover who hasn't seen his partner in far too long. I bend down slightly as he stands up to let me hold his front legs. We nuzzle each other and his happy licks force me to reconsider. "OK. Maybe it *wasn't* a wasted trip." ~~~ Ok. I'm dating myself quite a bit, with this one... This is my 'Flash!' story for the alt.sex.stories.moderated one year aniversary celebration that took place on November 10, 2000. --- Deja Vu --- I felt... Accepted. I turned my head, my blue eyes met your brown ones - and there was a silent commitment. Us. I reached and as my hand came up, your nose slowly nodded into it. With a gentle touch, our souls merged. A different body. The same soul. Ten years after we said our farewells, you returned. It was as if you knew that someday I would need your gentle wisdom to help me through life again. Your new body was unfamiliar to the ways of the flesh even though the mind that controlled it knew what was to come. Patiently, knowing the future to be, the two of us taught your new body what our minds already knew. It is time. You laugh and turn away from me. You shift your tail and reveal yourself. "Come to me. Dance with me. Make love to me..." "Again." I bend forward and gently run my hands along your sides. Long forgotten signals are remembered and given to you - my lover. Just as you did then, you respond with the signals that you so often used to tell me of your love and readiness - for me. Eagerness arches your neck. The air is filled with the scent of your desires. I kneel slightly. I close my eyes. With the experience of our years together I align my penis with your vulva - and gently return to our past. I slide home on the slipperiness of your fluids. When I am fully sheathed, I open my eyes and watch as your head tilts backwards so your gentle eyes are able to fill my soul with your love. Before I move within you, we take the time to remember past joys. Memories. Memories that become the present. As I begin the movements that tell you of the future we will build together, you lower your head and begin to pant as your pleasure rises. Slowly, steadily, passionately... I take us to the peaks of times past. Before I pulse, I feel your inner muscles quiver and then suddenly tighten around me. The way of remembered love becomes more difficult to travel. My thrusts become filled with a driven need as we continue to travel that familiar trail - together. I peak! Pleasure overwhelms me as I spasm. My inner essence flows into your body along with the liquid statement of my love for you. Your strong legs tense and take up the familiar burden of my spent body when my orgasm is over. The destination we eagerly sought - has been reached again. My strength begins to return. I brace myself and push against you as I rise. I feel your body sag slightly before you flex your powerful legs and help push me upright. I kneel beside you and let my hands flow along your sides in a gentle benediction. "Welcome back." "I've missed you." ~~~ End: Zoo/Best Purpose Written Work ====== -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>| | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+