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Subject: {ASSM} Story .. 2:00am [bestiality, gay]
Date: Fri,  9 Feb 2001 17:10:08 -0500
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  2:00 am
By Nevyn

Mmm. Listen to the quiet sussuration of rain on the tile roof. A
comfortable sound in the warmth of the lounge. The fire has burned
down now, only the embers flaring briefly to life when the wind
outside causes a draft in the fireplace. Lightning is flickering on
the hills to the east; a reminder of the storm that passed over here a
few hours ago, and the unpredictable illumination compliments the glow
of the fireplace, and the cool light from this laptop computer. The
candles that were burning before are just pools of wax now.

I'm feeling very relaxed. The house around me is radiating a beautiful
sense of contentment and fulfilment. Upstairs five bodies are weary,
and happy, asleep. I'll join them in a moment; 2:00am is a bloody
silly time to be typing away at a word-processor. Still, the story
won't let me rest until it's on paper, so I'll persevere and write it
while the emotions are still real.

Pizza, red wine, good company, and a spa-pool. House rules:- no
clothes to be worn in the pool.

Saturday evening, Janene and Darryl came over to watch videos and
christen the spa-pool. They were armed with a nice bottle of Cabernet
Merlot, and 'Cat People', the video. Nothing can compare to the
throaty bass of David Bowies theme smiting the air through an
intimidating sound system. 'Dial-a- Dinos' pizza arrived as scheduled:
7:30pm. The television had been hauled outside with the speakers from
the amplifier, and the evening had become dark quickly. We all
stripped naked and quickly piled into the spa-pool to avoid the crisp,
late winter air.

The best scene from the movie is where Natasha Kinski is tied to the
bed, the camera angle is from directly above, looking down on her
luscious naked body. The hero who is tying her up spreads her legs
just that little bit more, for the camera. Very tasty. And then he
fucks her. Now you and I both know that she turns into a panther here,
and that she is helplessly tied to the bed. I KNOW he fucks her again.
Who would miss an opportunity like that, right? Around 9:30ish the sky
was beginning to turn black-on- velvet with clouds, and the slight
breeze picked up. It was too unpleasant to remain outside, so we
hastily picked up the entertainment and headed indoors just as the
first spatterings of rain began to speckle the cobblestones.

I started the fire, and dimmed the lounge lights, and the four of us
sprawled out on cushions in a semi-circle around the flickering
warmth. We were all wearing naught but bathrobes. Darryl deftly
fashioned a joint to pass around. The mellow buzz it produced
complimented the light-headedness of the wine so that we were all
relaxed and at ease in the glow of each others company. The
conversation flowed and ebbed, drifting >from topic to topic; briefly
alighting on one subject before flitting to the next.

A momentary bright flash of light followed a couple of seconds later
by a deep rumble meant the storm was building up to greater strength,
and the rain went suddenly from a gently hiss on the tile roof to an
undulating roar.

Hamlet, our Great Dane dog, padded quickly into the lounge looking
sheepish. No doubt the storm was making him nervous, and he had sought
us out for the reassurance. Xanth, our Mastiff bitch, was probably
sleeping through it in the kitchen. Hamlet stretched out his front
paws and lowered his front half to the floor between myself and
Darryl. Eventually he lowered his tail-end to the floor too. It seems
to be an effort for him to get his rump down to the floor. A friend of
mine has this theory that Hamlets bum is full of Helium, and therefore
lighter, so it's harder to force it down to floor level. Then he
awkwardly shuffled forward on his elbows until his front paws were
almost in the fireplace. As the heat soaked into the heat-leech, he
drifted off to sleep with his head on his paws.

It was time, therefore, to bring out the deck of cards, for a game of
strip poker. Heather has a lovely deck; the face of each card has a
highly detailed charcoal sketch of a sexual perversion. The four suits
are Spades = Self-abuse. For example the four of spades features a
woman bringing herself to orgasm with a large, knobbled dildo; the ten
of spades features a man lying on his back on the floor with his legs
lifted back over his head, cumming into his own mouth. Clubs =
Bondage; variations on the theme of people tied / chained / shackled
in various positions and situations; the queen of clubs features a
nude man on his knees with his hands cuffed behind his back, his head
held down by a collar fixed to the floor so his chin is on the ground.
A woman dressed in classic 'bitch' attire stands behind him forcing
the handle of a large bull-whip up his arse. Diamonds = Paedophilia.
Children from around age three to thirteen, boys and girls involved in
sex with each other and adults. Hearts = Bestiality. I'm tempted to
describe each card in detail here, but I'll just give a description of
my favourites. The three of hearts features a charcoal drawing of a
huge bulldog mounting a woman from behind, drooling on her neck as he
fucks her. The four shows a man screwing a gorgeous tigress. The eight
of hearts is interesting; a naked man is held down on the ground by
several monkeys, his arms and legs spread and immobile. Most of the
male monkeys are jerking themselves off, and cumming on the guy. Two
monkeys are licking his chest, and another is playing with his dick.
The big toe of the guys right foot is firmly implanted in the fanny of
a female ape, who is pleasuring herself on him. Several apes in the
background are screwing / sucking each other. Quite a detailed little
orgy. Then there is the queen of hearts. This depicts a nice picture
of a woman swimming underwater on her back, embracing a male dolphin.
The drawing is such that her leg closest the artist is lower, so the
dolphins dick can clearly be seen entering her.

O.K., so we were playing strip poker. Remember, we were all only
wearing bathrobes, so after the first hand Heather was naked. Then
Darryl. Darryl lost the next hand too. What to do, what to do? It's
kinda traditional to play forfeits after a player loses strip poker,
and who were we to break a long-standing tradition? Janene had won
that hand so she had the right to set the forfeit. With an evil glint
in her eye she declared that Darryl had to retrieve the can of Whipped
Cream from the refrigerator, spray it on his balls, and let Hamlet
lick it off. Personally I thought that it was a rather daring forfeit
to open the game with. Evidently Darryl thought so too, and scowled at
her, but went to the 'fridge anyway. He returned shaking the can
vigorously.

At the first touch of the cream on his balls he fairly shrieked that
it was "Fucking cold!". Hamlet was instantly wide awake at the first
smell of the cream, and eagerly set to licking the sweet goo off
Darryls balls as he knelt near Hamlets head. Darryls scowl faded into
a look of pleasure at the caress of Hamlets soft tongue.

Next hand, Janene lost, so she quickly shed her gown. I hate being the
only one dressed, so I deliberately misplayed my next hand, and lost.
Janene lost the next hand, with Darryl the winner. You should have
seen the look of insane glee that leapt onto Darryls face! He pointed
to the can of whipped cream and declared that Janene had to spray it
onto Hamlets balls, and then lick it off. The scowl she shot back at
him would have frozen argon. I commanded Hamlet to roll over onto his
back, and he lay there with his back legs splayed out, wagging his
tail. Heather distracted him by scratching his ears while Janene
sprayed the cream onto his balls. He jumped when the cold touched him,
but lay fairly still. Then Janene leaned over and, tentatively at
first, began to lick the stuff off Hamlets ballbag. Soon, with
mounting enthusiasm, she was taking Hamlets whole ballbag into her
mouth and sucking gently. Everyone was getting quite aroused watching,
including Hamlet! Darryl decided she had forfeited enough, and that we
better play the next hand before he lost control.

I decided to misplay my next hand too, and lost. Darryl had won again,
but before he set my forfeit, Heather grabbed the cards I had
discarded earlier in the hand and showed them to the others.

"How often do you throw out two aces in poker, hmmm?", she smiled
sweetly at me. Oops. Busted. Darryl set my forfeit, and Heather set my
punishment; for losing the hand Darryl wanted to sixty-nine with me,
and for cheating I wasn't allowed to cum.

We lay on the rug on our sides, face to cock, and I began to explore
Darryls balls with my tongue. Similar sensations were playing on my
balls. Nuzzling my face into his pubic hair I began to lick his shaft,
feeling him do the same to my dick. With one hand I began pulling his
foreskin back and forward as my lips slipped over the swollen head of
his dick. This was echoed on my own dick, which was putting me in
serious danger of breaking my punishment by cumming. Normally if I
wanted to stave off orgasm for awhile I would bite my tongue, and
think of something dull (just how DO you differentiate a quadratic
equation...), but with Darryls dick down my throat so I couldn't bite
my tongue, and the sensations he was ministering with his mouth and
hands, I was getting closer and closer to cumming.

Heather and Janene were sitting close together, watching our
performance. By watching between Darryls legs I could see that Heather
was gently massaging Janenes breast, while she in turn was stroking
Heathers inner thighs. The way Heather leaned her head back with her
eyes closed told me that Janenes fingers were getting a little more
intimate.

Suddenly Darryl tensed and his fingers dug into the flesh of my thighs
as his cock spasmed in my mouth. My taste was flooded with several
quick spurts of his warm semen that I eagerly swallowed. He was
involuntarily squeezing and sucking hard on my dick as he came. It was
too much and I couldn't hold myself back any longer. With an anguished
gurgle of thwarted willpower I felt the waves of pleasure wash into me
as I came into Darryls mouth. We rolled apart slightly and I lay on my
back on the rugs with my eyes closed to savour the departing tingles
of pleasure. A bright flare registered through my closed eyelids,
punctuated by the telephone chirping in surprise. Less than half a
second later a huge crash of sound shook the whole house. I jumped and
opened my eyes to find the room mostly dark. The storm had knocked the
power out so the fire was providing the only illumination.

Heather left the room in search, I guessed, of candles. A moment later
I heard the rattle of wheels coming down the hall with the glow of
candles preceding. When the stocks rolled into the lounge, pushed by
Heather, I was a little surprised. Xanth followed her in, woken at
last by the storm, and flopped in front of the fire.

I think I mentioned the stocks once. They are something I built on a
whim once when I had some timber left over from a wind-shelter. It was
built with comfort in mind (as much as that is possible with stocks).
It has a horizontal beam with three depressions cut into it, lined
with velvet, for two arms and a head. A matching beam fits over the
first and is locked into place with a padlock, holding the victim bent
over so their head is only slightly higher than their bum,
(adjustable, of course, for shorter or taller people). The victims
feet are held immobile between the frame of the base by chained
shackles (also velvet lined). For comfort, a padded knee-rest has been
provided so although the victim is standing bent at the waist, there
is little muscular strain and they can be held there for hours without
discomfort (from the stocks, that is).

Heather placed the candles around the room and the effect was quite
pleasant; the room took on an air of ritual, reverence. She turned
toward me, "Well, you broke your forfeit a second time, so you have to
occupy the stocks until further notice." They locked me in, nude, bent
over and vulnerable. And then they tortured me. All I could do was
watch as Heather began caressing Janenes nipples again, then she
leaned over and began to lick them. Gently she helped Janene lay back,
and then ran her hands down Janenes body. With her fingertips Heather
traced lines down Janenes legs, then dragged her nails carefully up
her thighs. Janene spread her legs, and Heather knelt between them,
and lowered her head to kiss the exposed flesh of her sex.

Hamlet suddenly stood and wandered over to stand over Janenes head. He
does that when he's horny and wants to be jerked off. I thought Janene
would ignore him, but I was as surprised as Darryl when Janene reached
up and began playing with Hamlets balls.

Looking somewhat affronted, Darryl watched Janene rubbing Hamlets
sheath back and forth over the dogs growing hardon, while Heather was
tonguing her vagina lips. Then Darryl shrugged his shoulders and
started scratching Xanth down her back with his nails. She glanced
around and thumped her tail on the ground, then abruptly rolled over,
waving her legs in the air and snuffling. Like Heather, Darryl leaned
over Xanth to lick her nipples, eight in all. His tongue traced around
each nipple, then down to the 'Y' shaped opening of her pussy. I have
never been keen on the taste of Xanth, but Darryl was lapping her up
with real enthusiasm.

Watching the performance of Janene writhing with pleasure >from
Heathers tongue, while the first squirts of Hamlets cum splashed into
her mouth, and Xanth bucking her hips up off the floor to meet Darryls
tonguing was making me horny as hell. And I was stuck in the damned
stocks, for my sins.

The thunder rumbled deeply again, and Janene started cumming. She
wrapped her legs around Heathers head, and (rather rudely, I thought)
pushed Hamlet away so she could grab Heathers hair with her fingers.
With a moan of pure delight she rocked her hips as Heather sucked on
her clit.

Xanth too seemed to be in the throes of ecstasy, licking her lips and
humping to force her own hot-spot against the pressure of Darryls
mouth.

I needed some action real bad, so although I couldn't go anywhere, I
could still call Hamlet over. Leaving the bodies writhing on the
floor, he wandered over to me and snuffled at my balls with his cold,
wet nose. "Hup, Hamlet. Hup", I encouraged him. No stranger to this
kind of invitation, he jumped up and placed his front paws on my back.
Then he shuffled his feet forward until the tip of his thrusting penis
was poking me around my arsehole. Normally I would reach around with
my hand and guide him into me, but my hands were kinda restricted, so
all I could do was move my bum around and hope we connected.

Eventually the pointed tip scored a hit on the hole, and he slowed his
thrusting to a sustained push to get the length of his dick inside me.
Mmmm, there is nothing like feeling the slow penetration of a dogs
dick into your butt. Then he dropped down so his chest was resting on
my back, and his front legs were grasping me around my waist so he
could increase the tempo of his thrusting to a rhythmic pummelling. It
was quite lucky that he didn't tie with me; that is where the swelling
at the base of his dick (in Hamlets case, a lump of flesh the size of
a tennis ball) lodges inside my arse. If he had, at the rate he was
fucking me he probably would have torn my arsehole to ribbons. As he
drove into me, his balls slapped against my thighs, and the knot of
his dick stretched my sphincter to the point of pain trying to gain
access. Finally he stopped his frantic humping and just held me with
his dick pulsing inside me. Each pulse was a squirt of dog-cum into my
rectum. Personally I think this is the most sensual moment, where
Hamlet is deeply immersed in the flow of his orgasm, just resting his
body on my back, and I am savouring the sensation of his dick swollen
to its maximum size, pulsing inside me.

The others were watching me and Hamlet now. I didn't mind; I've always
enjoyed my sexual adventurousness. With a grunt, Hamlet stepped off
me, and his dick slid easily out of my hole. He walked away slightly
with his head down, and dick hanging around his knees, still squirting
jets of clear liquid onto the floor. Then he lay down and licked
himself clean.

Darryl was still hard from the erotic pleasure of licking Xanth, so he
stood and began caressing my ballbag from behind. I couldn't turn my
head to look, but when he grabbed my waist with his hands I knew what
was happening next. With a firm push, his dick slid into my arse, and
for the second time that evening I was being fucked up the arse. To be
honest, Darryl and Hamlet are about similar in diameter and length
(except for Hamlets knot, the 'widowmaker'), so he slid easily into me
in the lubrication of Hamlets cum.

He fucked me hard, driving into me so my shoulders were pushed into
the foam padding of the stocks. His fingers clawed into the flesh on
my hips giving me a mix of pleasure tempered with pain. With a growl
that scaled up into a roar of animal lust, Darryl slammed his dick
into me, and started cumming. The intensity of it caused him to gouge
the flesh of my hips leaving bruises that will take a week to vanish.
Then he leaned over me and wrapped his arms around my chest, hugging
my back while his dick jumped and pulsed in my bowels.

He lay like that, on top of me until he started going soft again, and
his dick slipped out from me. I clamped my sphincter tight to stop the
liquid from following. There was a polite smattering of applause from
the two women as Darryl stood. He undid the locks on the stocks on the
condition that I would screw Xanth in front of everyone. Definitely!!
Janene and Heather swapped roles so that Heather was on the receiving
end of Janenes oral manipulations. Darryl was too fucked out to do
much so he just lay on his side on the sheepskin rugs watching the
performance. With a hardon that was almost hurting, and fire in my
veins, I called Xanth over. She rolled over onto her feet and stood
wagging her tail, then snuffled at my damp arsehole to lick up the
residue of Hamlet and Darryls release. She forced her nose between my
legs and squeezed through so my ballbag dragged along her back. I
scratched down her back with my nails as she went, and as her tail
flicked along the crack of my arse and under my ballbag, we both
shivered with pleasure.

There was no need for lubricants. Clear liquid from my arousal was
flowing freely from the end of my dick, and Xanth was well aroused
from her encounter with Darryl. I crouched slightly behind her and
grasped her thigh with one hand. The other guided my cock to her
velvet-lined entrance. Gently, but firmly, I pulled her hip back as I
pushed forward. Entry was so easy, helped by my foreskin peeling back
as the tip of my meat opened the soft lips of her pussy. Warmth from
her body surrounded my meat, and her muscles gently squeezed and
released, squeezed and released along my dick. I just closed my eyes
and leaned my head back while I pulled her back onto my dick as hard
as I could and held her there, savouring her tightness.

Then I pulled out slightly, just an inch or so, and slid back into
her. The again, just and inch or so. Paused slightly to savour her
warmth. Again I pulled out and slid back in, a little faster and a
little further, and the friction of her tight hole stepped up my
urgency. Soon I was fucking her with a steady rhythm, both of my hands
on her hips pulling her back to meet my thrusts. The pressure of my
orgasm started to build and I couldn't hold back any longer. As hard
and as far as I could I forced my dick into Xanth in time with the
waves of ecstasy washing into me. For each pulse of my dick, there was
an answering squeeze from Xanth, and I howled with pleasure and
release. When I am fucking an animal, I become an animal myself. The
mantle of rationality drops, and I become a machine designed to fuck.

Spent, I lay back onto the sheepskins where Xanth snuggled next to me.
At the calls of 'Encore! Encore!' from the onlookers, I raised my hand
in a one-finger salute.

We all lay together for awhile in the mellow glow of the fireplace,
and candles, letting the evenings fulfilment blanket us while the
storm played around the night. Eventually we roused for a late night
coffee, then Heather, Janene, Darryl, Hamlet and Xanth headed upstairs
to bed. I was too wired from the coffee, so I said I would join them
after I had put a few thoughts to paper.

Well, the rain has stopped, and the storm seems to be spent. I can
hardly keep my eyes open, so I'll drop this in the batch upload queue
and crash. It's 4:00am Sunday morning. I wonder what the day holds.

 



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