
       

 
                   TREATED LIKE AN ANIMAL

                             by 

                           Joe Doe


WHEN A MAJOR RECORDING ARTIST DECIDES TO POSE FOR A PETA AD 
CAMPAIGN, SHE KNOWS THERE WILL BE SOME SMALL AMOUNT OF TASTEFUL 
NUDITY INVOLVED.  BUT, AFTER A CLERICAL ERROR, SHE IS ACCIDENTALLY 
DROPPED OFF AT A PHOTO SESSION FOR "SPREAD BEAVER" MAGAZINE.   



Britney was not happy.  Her manager was on vacation, and both her 
driver and her two personal assistants had called in sick with the 
flu.  Was she the only person in the world who WORKED for a living? 

It certainly seemed that way.  While her lazy staff was enjoying 
themselves with high fevers and projectile vomiting, she had to 
pour her mineral water ALL BY HERSELF! 

And, what was even worse, now she had to figure out where her 
stupid charity photo shoot was. 

She didn't even want to go to this lame photo shoot that she 
had agreed to do for PETA...People for the Ethical Treatment of 
Animals.  The society had become famous over the years for 
outrageous stunts and billboards involving mostly naked 
celebrities.   

She had gotten involved with the charity because she thought 
that the phony baloney "do-gooder" image would help counter 
the negative press she had been getting lately.  It was hard 
to believe, but hack reporters were writing that the star was 
nothing but a spoiled little diva!   

But, as she lounged on her solid gold lawn chair in the waterfall 
grotto of her 25 million dollar estate, sipping her specially 
imported sparkling mineral water, she knew that nothing could be 
further from the truth.  "Where do they get these stories?" she 
wondered. 

It wasn't that she had anything against animals.  The truth is, 
she preferred animals to most of the people she knew in the record 
industry.  But that was a matter of good taste, not politics. 

The real attraction was the opportunity to change her image with a 
little bit of tasteful public nudity and to camouflage her true 
intent under the guise of a worthy cause.  She would have total 
control of the pictures and would own all the negatives, of course. 
Besides, if the pictures were too risqué she knew that PETA 
couldn't use them on billboards anyway.    

Britney had remembered the storyboards they had shown her for the 
spread: 

              "I'd rather go naked than wear fur." 

         "Fur looks great on animals, but not on people." 

        "How would YOU like to be treated like an animal?" 

The last idea had caught her eye, because it was a protest against 
animal research.  The idea was to show Britney naked in a cage 
with a dog collar around her neck.  She thought it was too extreme, 
but she had to admit it was provocative and attention-getting.  
Besides, she told herself, she could always destroy any pictures 
she didn't like. 

But, with her support staff enjoying themselves at home with their 
103 temperatures, poor Britney was forced to dial her cell phone 
BY HERSELF and call a CAB to go to the photo shoot.  Someone would 
pay for this outrage! 

The regular receptionist at Britney's agency had the flu, and a 
very confused old lady from the temp service was filling in.  
Moreover, Britney's cell phone battery was dying, and the old 
woman was deaf.  The ancient receptionist could barely understand 
what the snippy, chattering girl on the other end of the phone was 
saying as her cell phone cut in and out.   

Something about a photo shoot, and some girl named Britney, and 
animals.  Frantically the old lady scanned through the schedule 
and found the following appointment: 

BRITNEY SPEARS LOOKALIKE JULIA WHORELY SCHEDULED FOR "TREAT ME 
LIKE A DOG" PHOTOSHOOT WITH "SPLIT BEAVER" MAGAZINE, 6969 SLEAZY 
DRIVE, L.A. 

Dogs and beavers were animals, so the old woman figured she had a 
match, and she gave Britney the address.  Britney scribbled down 
the address and disconnected without saying thank you or goodbye, 
angrily tossing the weak cell phone into the pool. 

"I wonder who Britney Spears is?" the ancient receptionist 
wondered, as she hung up the phone.  Then the phone rang again, 
and the receptionist was off to her next mistake of the day. 

Britney couldn't believe how dumpy the neighborhood was; she had 
to give the cabby all of her cash just to get him to take her 
there.  She knew PETA was not-for-profit, but it was hard to 
believe that anyone in this welfare neighborhood was RUNNING a 
charity. 

The Doberman on the chain in the front yard clearly wanted to rip 
her apart, and she hadn't even gotten to the front porch before the 
owner of the rundown shack had come to the door to see whom his dog 
was eating now. 

Max was astonished at his good fortune when he opened the door and 
saw Britney standing there.  He had "prepaid" $200 for a Britney 
Spears lookalike, but this girl was a dead ringer!    

He anxiously ushered her into the studio, where his large black 
assistant, Tyrone, was waiting for them.  Max always kept Tyrone 
handy during shoots.  Not only was Tyrone a model, but he could 
also make sure that the beautiful models "cooperated" with ALL of 
Max's perverted demands. 

Britney was surprised when Max suggested that they start out with 
a photo session of a slow striptease.  Stripping in front of the 
hulking black man made her more than a little nervous.  But soon 
her natural exhibitionist streak took over, and she found herself 
swaying to the beat of one of her own songs as it blared over the 
tiny transistor radio in the shoddy "studio." 

It was only when Max told her that it was time for some classic 
"Split Beaver" shots that she realized that she was in the wrong 
place.  She tried to explain the situation to Max, and even showed 
him her ID, but he wasn't buying it. 

"I don't care what your phony ID says, or how pretty you are, 
cupcake.  I prepaid $200 for 2 hours of your fine white ass, and 
that is what I'm going to get.  I'll call you Britney if that's 
what you want, but we're going to take the photos I paid for...ALL 
OF THE PHOTOS...or I'm going to turn you over to Tyrone for the 
two hours instead! 

She knew she was in trouble.  Her cell phone was dead, her support 
staff was MIA, she had no money, and she was trapped in a sleazy 
porn studio with two angry bruisers.  What choice did she have? 

Before long, Max was barking out commands and putting her through 
an increasingly degrading series of photos:
 
"Okay, now hold up your jugs! 

"Put your nipples in your mouth! 

"Now shake your hooters! 

"Now turn around and bend over!  Show me that sweet little pussy!" 

Despite her humiliation, she meekly complied with each degrading 
new command.   

What was worse, the spoiled celebrity was starting to find the 
perverseness of the entire situation strangely exciting.    

"Now lay flat on your back, and draw your knees up to your chest. 

"That's good!  Now SPREAD 'em. 

"Now turn around and spread your butt cheeks!  Wider!    

"Now roll over and spread your legs again.  Now play with your 
pussy!   

"Run your fingers up and down the lips.  That's it -- get it nice 
and juicy for Uncle Max! 

"Now tease the little love button out!  

"Good girl!  Now arch your back up towards the camera...my readers 
want to see pink!   

"That's it...get that big ass of yours up off the ground and lift 
your snatch up to the camera!   

"Work it girl!  It's time to EARN your money!" 

Britney orgasmed with her wet pussy only a few inches from Max's 
lens.  She couldn't believe how low she had sunk...or how quickly.  
A few hours before, she was a Beverly Hills Goddess, lounging by 
the pool.  Now she was butt-naked in a ghetto neighborhood, being 
put through her paces like a frisky bitch in heat by this perverted 
photographer.   

She was exhausted, but Max didn't let her rest.  He said it was 
time for the "core" of the shoot, a little opus he had designed 
entitled, "Treated Like a Dog." 

Britney flinched.  It was the same theme that she had selected for 
her PETA shoot.  But she knew THAT shoot was only going to involve 
a few minutes of tasteful nudity in a posh Beverly Hills studio. 

Max was going to make the proud diva LIVE the part! 

Her eyes lit up when Max told her that, since they were going 
outside, she would have to put on her costume for the rest of 
the shoot.  If she was dressed and outside, she might be able to 
escape. 

Her hopes were quickly dashed when she saw the "costume."  It was 
a pink doggie collar with a humiliating little bell dangling from 
it.  There were also a couple of tags attached to the collar: a 
small fire hydrant that was obviously proof that she'd had her 
"shots," and a large white metal tag with her name in red letters: 
"BRITNEY." 

She felt her eyes mist with tears as Tyrone attached her new doggie 
collar to a leash and led her outside to the back yard.  The yard 
was enclosed by a 10 foot high fence topped with razor wire.  When 
she saw the massive fence she almost cried. 

This was one bitch who wouldn't be running away from her master. 

Max brought along the video camera for this part of the shoot, and 
decided to start with a series of demeaning "tricks" designed to 
show off Britney's lovely naked body for the camera. 

"Fetch" allowed Max to photograph her cute little ass wagging as 
she scampered across the lawn to fetch the rubber ball. 

"Begging" showed off her bouncing breasts and wet, exposed pussy. 

"Rolling Over" while Tyrone scratched her belly provided a playful 
action shot of a man and his naked bitch. 

She lapped up water from a small bowl with her name on it.  Max 
made sure he got plenty of shots of her pretty pink tongue. 

Next Max locked Britney in a doggie kennel for a few more shots.  
But, while the PETA kennel had been large and roomy, this one was 
tiny, and she soon felt her muscles cramping.  Max refused to help 
her, and, indeed, took advantage of her wiggling ass in the cage 
to snap another roll of film. 

The worst part for Britney was when she told Tyrone that she had 
to use the bathroom.  She was confused when a smiling Tyrone led 
her over to a tree in the backyard and stood there, arms folded, 
tapping his foot impatiently.  Max stood ready with the camera. 

"I don't have all day for this, Lassie," Tyrone said, brusquely. 

It took several moments for Britney to realize what Tyrone wanted 
her to do.  With great reluctance, she squatted, legs spread and 
butt slightly elevated, and exposed herself to Max's camera.  She 
had to strain for several minutes to overcome her embarrassment, 
but Max didn't mind because the struggling star was providing him 
with some great shots. 

Finally, the deeply mortified, straining star managed to let loose 
a large, noisy, humiliating spray.  Max eagerly photographed her 
from every angle. 

Tyrone jerked on her leash and laughed.  "Look, I even housebroke 
the bitch for you, Max!"  

At this remark, Max quickly changed positions to capture the look 
on the blushing star's face.  It was priceless! 

Max let her wash her face and take a drink of water from the 
hose before they continued inside for the final "video portion" 
of the shoot.  Max liked the video shoots, because the magazine 
video captures were easy to make, and he could have the videos 
themselves on the pay-per-view section of his web site by 
nightfall. 

Max also let Britney phone her agent to send a car for her.  Max 
knew that it would take it a while to get there, and he knew the 
last part of the shoot wouldn't take long. 

Tyrone strapped her down on all fours to what he jokingly referred 
to as "the breeding bench."  Then he went outside while Max set up 
four video cameras.    

Britney wondered if it was going to be Max or Tyrone who fucked 
her.  She was hoping that it was Tyrone, because he was much 
better looking, but she hoped that he wasn't too big.  Still, 
she was so wet and sloppy at this point that it hardly mattered. 

She was surprised to hear the Doberman barking furiously outside.  
Had her car arrived already?  Was Tyrone bringing in something 
from outside?  Did Tyrone have some friends who had just arrived?  

Max saw the confused look on the girl's face and smiled.  He turned 
on the video cameras, confident that all of Britney's questions 
would soon be answered.



Edited by C. Lakewood



 
