WARNING:  The chapters in this story contain
scenes of graphic sex involving lesbianism,
masturbation, mechanical sex acts,
bestiality, and bondage, all with strong
undercurrents of pain, and, if you can
believe it, romance.  In code, that is [f ff
fd ffdd mech bd pain rom].  If subject
matter of this nature does not interest you,
do not read any farther.

All events in this story are fictional.
(DUH!)  All the characters in this story are
fictional.  This is a fantasy, i.e. a place
where physical acts and human responses are
not limited to or necessarily based in
reality.  Therefore, some acts and responses
described are physically impossible or
physiologically improbable.  Do not try them
yourself, especially alone.  This story is
intended for the salacious entertainment of
consenting adults, not as an instructional
manual.  Again, do not try to do any of the
things described in this story.  You will
injure yourself or your partner.

If you are under 18 years of age, go away.
This will burn your eyeballs.

If material of a strong sexual nature is
prohibited where you are, go away.

By continuing, the reader accepts all
responsibility for any disgust, revulsion,
jail sentences, or pleasure that result from
reading this story.

You have been warned!

That said, enjoy!..:)

NightShade

*******













Cindy's New Friends

By NightShade.

Chapter 6

The strong drinks were quickly getting to Cindy.  She
was a novice drinker and the extra alcohol punch in
them worked fast.  On an empty stomach, it was even
more potent.  She had not eaten since breakfast - she
had been `busy' at lunchtime - and it had been an
exceptionally exhausting day for her.  Then the machine
on the fourth floor had put her through a real workout,
dehydrating her slender body of a lot of fluids, and
finally the long, sweaty ride after work had been
mostly uphill.

She stumbled slightly as she wandered around the
strange room, examining the plush furnishings.  She
recognized the normal pieces of furniture, like the
tables, chairs and lamps, but a couple of the items
scattered around the room had her puzzled.  She walked
over to the one closest to her to get a better look.

The top was a low padded bench with one set of legs
quite a bit shorter than the other end.  Consequently,
the 3-foot long bench, placed perpendicular to the
wall, sloped down towards the wall.  Two stainless
steel horizontal handlebars, about 4-6 inches long and
a bit less than an inch in diameter, were embedded in
circular indentations about two inches into the wall.
They reminded Cindy of the safety handles you would see
in a modern bathtub, just a little deeper.  The handles
were about two to three feet off the floor, well above
the lower end of the bench that they bracketed.  The
strange handles were the only indication of its
intended function.  The entire bench was bolted to the
floor.

She stood swaying at the elevated end of the board,
studying the strange arrangement.  Curious, she leaned
forward to grasp the handles.  With her legs straight,
it was too far to reach.  Between the alcohol in her
system and Max `accidentally' bumping her behind her
knees at precisely that moment, she found herself lying
flat on her stomach with her knees on the floor,
kneeling over the end of the bench.

The tilt of the board and the extra padding over the
higher end of it pushed her ass up high in the air.
Her knees were awkwardly spread and held wide apart by
strategically placed curved dowels at mid-thigh and
knee level.

The fall winded her briefly and any sudden movement of
her head caused her alcohol addled vision to spin.

"I'll jus' res' a minute," she thought.  "Jus' one
minute."

Looking blearily around her as she rested, she again
noticed the peculiar handles she had been trying to
reach when she had fallen.  Reaching up with one hand,
she grabbed on to one of the recessed handles.
Although it was embedded into the wall, she could reach
it easily and wrap her fingers all the way around it.

When nothing happened, she reached out with her other
hand and grasped the other handle.  She had to stretch
to reach this one.  She gripped both bars and pulled
herself up, intending to get up and continue with her
inspection of the room.  Her body was stretched between
the wall and the end of the bench, over which she was
bent.

Her back was arched, lifting her head and breasts clear
of the board.  Cindy peeked down the front of her
gaping neckline at her hanging breasts.  The stripes
from the machine whipping them were clearly visible.
She giggled at the thought of showing herself to
someone else like this.  She wiggled her shoulders and
watched the pliant orbs jiggle provocatively.

"Nish tits, lady.  Tha' looksh good enou' to eat!
Gotta' get me some a tha'."  The crude remarks of a
little horrid man who had accosted her last week in the
bus terminal came back unbidden to her mind.  A bit of
perverse pride filled her.  They were nice to look at.

Her stretched posture also shaped her ass into a curve
that would make a whip-wielding man or woman wish for a
bigger whip and a lot more time to use it.  Even the
thick fabric of the shapeless work shift could not hide
her beauty.

The expansion of the pneumatic cuffs in the wall was so
silent and sudden, Cindy did not know she was captured
until she heard the hard clicks of the metallic cuffs
imbedded in the expanding rubber and felt them
tightening around her wrists.  Even drugged, Cindy
realized she was in a very vulnerable position.  Terror
welled up in her, and she gave a small whimper.

At the sound of her helpless cry, Max moved up silently
next to her face and licked her cheek lightly, as if to
reassure her.  It seemed to work.  Cindy gave a small
sigh of relief, rubbing her cheek against his.

"Max is here and everything will be OK."

She felt Max go around behind her and sniff along her
left leg.  His nose was cold and wet and Cindy felt
comforted by his touch.  Only when he slipped his snout
up under her dress and sniffed higher between her
thighs did she begin to worry.  Not about what he might
do, but that Mary might catch them.

"I can't let him do this.  I want him to, but Mary
might find out.  What would I do then?" Cindy worried.
She was more afraid that Mary would learn her secret,
than what that secret was.  In her awkward position,
however, Cindy could not do anything to stop the dog
from doing whatever he wanted.

Satisfied she could not get away, Max went back around
beside the helpless young girl and got up on the bench
beside her with his forepaws.  Reaching down with his
sharp teeth, he grasped the cumbersome dress about half
way up the girl's back.  With a sharp sideways yank of
his head, he pulled the hem of the dress up over the
girl's upright ass and well up on to her back out of
his way.  Her perfect moon-shaped ass was now
beautifully exposed.

"Oh Max, no no noooo.," she cried, but only half-
heartedly.

The large dog returned to his position behind the girl
and placed his snout directly against her exposed sex.
His sensitive nose told him the girl had been aroused
recently, but not marked by man or beast.  He licked up
the savory secretions dripping down the girl's thighs,
and then licked them out of her hole.  The sex-juices
of a female human were a special treat, each one a bit
different flavor.  It never failed to excite him,
stirring a primitive animal lust deep within his
psyche.  Not the rutting lust brought on by the scent
of a real bitch in heat, but a burning lust to
dominate, to subjugate, to mark the human fuck-toy deep
within her body.

Max butted his snout sharply against her tight rosy
sphincter.  He was sure this female had mated recently,
but he could not smell any male scent that marked her,
human or otherwise.  Maybe this one was like Mistress,
and mated by herself.  That made it even better, as he
would be the first to ever mark this territory
properly.

The scent of the young woman in heat spread out so
invitingly before him easily aroused the virile dog.
He was trained to respond and to respond quickly.  With
an excited bark, he mounted the perfectly positioned
target, his pink cock sliding out to its fullest
extent.

There was just room on both sides of the bench for his
huge paws.  His rough forelegs put increasing pressure
on Cindy's ribs until he gripped her tightly.  Anchored
firmly in front, he moved slowly forward until his cock
touched the lightly protesting girl's slippery slit.

The narrowed tip slipped in easily.  Cindy was spread
so wide that her gash gaped a little and the dog was
able to get almost an inch inside the tunnel before she
realized he was in her.  She renewed her protests and
bucked her hips up and down in her attempts to shake
him off.  These futile motions only had the effect of
seating the burrowing cock deeper and more firmly
within the steaming hole.

She lowered her head in frustration, shame and
unfulfilled lust.  A tear formed in the corner of her
eye, but before it could fall, she caught sight of her
breasts.  The sight amazed her.  Before, they had been
free, swaying with each breath.  Now, however, with the
dog's forepaws clamped tightly in behind them, forcing
them in and forward, and her bulging boobs looked
awesome.  She had never imagined her tits could look
like this.

Like the tits of the lady in some of the other photos.
Her tits had had rope tied tightly around them, making
them balloon and bulge, looking painful and beautiful
at the same time.  Now it was her tits that were
compressed together, and as good as it looked to her,
it felt even better.  But it was only the dog's
forepaws, not ropes, and it wasn't enough.  Not quite
enough.

Cindy raised her face to the ceiling and gave a lust-
filled cry of frustration that sounded to Max like the
howl of a long lost ancestor.  He responded with a
fierce howl of his own, his primitive blood boiling
with a lust he had never experienced before with
neither fuck-toy nor bitch.  Not understanding his
lupine ancestry, not really giving a fuck either, Max
re-focused on the task at hand.  With a powerful lunge
forward, he buried his long hard prick to the hilt,
raising the elongated cry of his current mate several
octaves to an ear-splitting scream.

Cindy felt the solid balls at the bottom of the dog's
thick shaft slam into her pubic area.  The force of
that first thrust would have knocked the wind out of
her normally, but her hips on the edge of the bench
stopped the forward motion of her body short.  What
that total impalement did do was to clear her head
briefly.

She felt full, but not as stuffed as she had earlier,
sitting on that machine in the library.  She also
automatically cataloged the differences between the dog
penis plunging in and out of her at that moment and the
solid rubber phallus from earlier.  Fat flared head on
one, narrow long head on the other.  Shafts about the
same length, but one was pretty much the same width top
to bottom, the other tapered slightly wider towards the
bottom.

She paused, a puzzled expression crossing her face.
She was missing something, something important.  She
thought harder.  Her mind wandered over the events of
the day in the library.  That wasn't it.  It had
something to do with the first time she and Max had
made love - or made lick, anyway.

She remembered how his tongue had felt on her pussy.
This was just as good, but different.  This had
penetration, but not as much friction on her clit.  He
had penetrated her mouth, too, she remembered.  She
loved how it had felt going into her hot mouth and down
her tight throat.  She squeezed her rookie muscles to
make her cunt tighter for her lover's cock.

She remembered holding his huge bulge that had
ballooned at the base of his cock in both hands, not
even coming close to wrapping around it with both of
her hands.  It had been so hot, so knobby, so.HUGE!

Cindy's eyes flew open as she remembered the sudden
swelling of that knot, right under her nose.  It had
terrified her then and it would kill her now if it grew
inside her.  She quickly shifted the position of her
hips, trying to deny the dog the deep penetration he
needed to lock with her.

Her unexpected hip movement came just as the knot
expanded - into thin air.  This left Max' cock
unanchored in the cunt-hole as he was accustomed.  A
most unsatisfactory way to fuck, but the show must go
on.  His rapid thrusts into the slippery cunt had to be
shortened as a result so he wouldn't pull completely
out.  He was used to having the knot hold him in so he
could flail away, focused only on marking his toy.
This time he had to take care stay in and it took away
from his experience.

Cindy didn't notice if anything was taken away from his
experience or not.  As far as she was concerned, she
had died and gone to Heaven.  His stiff cock had felt
good by itself.  But with the first slam of that hard
knot against her pudendum, fireworks had exploded in
her head and hadn't stopped.  The clitoral stimulation
that was missing prior was now added into the mix, and
it was a heady mixture.

She was lying over the edge of the bench.  Her
attention-craving button was trapped in mid-air a mere
breath away from the friction provided by the surface
of the bench.  The blood-engorged knot pounding into
her from behind smashed her clit forward into the
unforgiving bench, trapped between the proverbial rock
and a hard place.  Heaven, indeed!

Max' hind feet did a little dance as he pounded away at
Cindy's pussy.  He was getting the hang of this now.
It had only taken 20 minutes or so of rapid thrusts
interrupted by careful repositioning so he wouldn't
slip out, followed by more rapid thrusts.  Although he
knew he would mark her successfully, it would be
incomplete, unsatisfactory for him.

It was entirely satisfactory to his fuck-toy.  The
petite girl under him had gripped his cock five or six
times tightly, actions he had become familiar with when
marking his Mistress.  He always got an extra reward
after a session whenever that happened, even if it
happened only once.  He growled deep in his throat as
he felt her squeezing him again.  It was almost as good
as being locked, but not quite.  He took advantage of
the additional resistance and made a couple of really
wild stabs at his hot target.  The reaction of the fuck-
toy was to grip him tighter still, and he pounded away
with abandon.

With a small `yip,' his thick streams of cum flooded
into Cindy's cunt and oozed down her legs in twin
streams.  His shuddering frame rested heavily on her
back as the strength of his orgasm weakened his abused
hind legs.  The tongue that had brought her so much
pleasure a week before lolled out of his mouth and
bathed her sweaty neck with cooling drool.

Her glazed eyes hooded over, the alcohol reasserting
its influence over her conscious thoughts.  She dully
thought as she passed into oblivion, "Gotta get me one
a' thesh doggies!  Yup, gotta get me some a tha'!"

Max licked his cum off her legs as she dreamed the
dreams of the innocent.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-==-=

Phoc grumbled to himself as he looked at the mountain
of paperwork sitting on his desk.  He was beginning to
resent the thousands of decisions he had to make every
day, the myriad details that were important enough to
come to his attention.  What the Hell was he paying all
those Vice Presidents for, anyway?  Muttering, he
picked up the folder marked 'Urgent.'

And promptly burst out with a string of profanity that
would have been unusual on the docks of Shanghai, much
less in a boardroom in Beijing.

What was so fucking important about another 200 grams
of SP-X59 that he needed to know they were fucking
missing?  This was a fucking problem that just wouldn't
fucking go away.  Every fucking week it seemed, there
was another 200 or so grams missing from one of the
fucking production lines.  And it was never even in the
same plant.  First in Hanoi, then the plant in
Manchuria, then the plant in Shanghai and so on.  If it
was all from the same place he would have been
concerned.  If there had been any movement of personnel
that correlated to the missing explosives, he would
have been concerned.  But there wasn't.  It wasn't like
you could do anything with 200 grams, either.  Blow up
a car, maybe or remove a stump.  OK, maybe you could
blow up a tank or a small building, even, but so what?

Phoc sighed and tossed the folder into the out box, as
he had done for the past year or so, ever since this
unexpected bonus gift his brother, Chew, had presented
him with had gone into production.  He would love to be
able to blame this on his brother somehow, and
eventually he would find a way, if it ever leaked out.
But his brother had been as loyal and industrious as
ever.  More than expected, and Phoc was not one to kill
the golden goose.  Besides, Chew was being very closely
monitored.  He would know before anyone if he had to
worry about his little brother.

Though he would never admit it to anyone else, to
himself he had more than once regretted gutting his
father on their yacht and tossing his body, still
screaming, to the waiting sharks.  He wasn't ready for
all of this, this, this fucking paperwork.  The only
thing he had ever seen his father do was smoke cigars
with the politicians.  Phoc had yet to be invited to
anything other than the mandatory banquets, and then he
was seated with the peasants.  That had never happened
when his father was alive, and Phoc hated them all for
it.

That's why this new explosive was so important to him.
Chew had naively given him the key to his legacy.  When
the new product was announced, he would be the one to
get the credit.  He would have huge stockpiles, ready
and waiting for shipment to the their vassal states of
Viet Nam and North Korea, as well as to any of the
terrorist organizations that could pay for it.

"X59," as it was called, was the perfect explosive,
and, in relatively small amounts, could do massive
amounts of destruction.  Pound for pound, it was nearly
equivalent to a low-yield nuclear bomb.  Only without
the fall-out.  And nearly undetectable by the usual
methods.  According to his brother, the explosive
wasn't based on any of the usual nitrates or
permanganates you would expect.  Therefore, you could
carry it in your hand and walk through airport
security.  Chew had done it twice, just to prove it
could be done, both times asking the security personnel
to use the chemical sniffer on the bag containing the
X59.

Detonation was by remote control.  You could burn the
stuff in a fireplace and it would just melt all over
the bricks.  You could hit it with a hammer and it
would just bounce off.  But give it three short pulses
of a certain frequency and you'd better hope you were
far enough away to survive the shockwave.

So what good was the missing X59 without the
detonators?  That's where Phoc had concentrated his
security.  He knew where every single detonator was.
Everyday.  Without them, or the information to build
one, not even the devil Americans could steal enough
X59 to be of any use.

Still, he hadn't done nothing about the missing
explosives.  He had sent the Triad goonsquads into the
plants, and starting with the production supervisors,
had questioned anyone with any chance of knowing
anything about the missing product.  Unfortunately, not
many of them had survived the interrogations and he had
learned exactly nothing.  He had even visited each of
the sites himself.  Last time he had insisted on Chew
accompanying him to check out the equipment personally.

Phoc grinned at that memory.  Chew had wanted to spend
that time with his little China Doll and had been quiet
and sullen the entire trip.  Chew had shown Phoc the
proper respect, of course, but his personal discomfort
pleased Phoc to no end.  It pleased him even now as he
thought back on it.  Making him crawl around the
production lines like a regular mechanic had put the
egotistical little sibling in his proper place, too.

Phoc sighed.  This was a problem that wasn't going to
be solved tonight.  Maybe it was just what all the
production managers said it was.  Maybe it was just
normal production losses.  Chew insisted it wasn't, but
what did he know about manufacturing, anyway?  Of
course you could scrape everything out of a test tube,
but a three-ton production vessel?

Phoc took another look at the pile of paper and turned
out the desk light.  His contact in Customs had told
him he was going to arrange for one of the Swedish
tourists to get detained and miss her flight home.  His
inquiries had turned up no family to speak of and, by
not letting her contact the Swedish Embassy until
Monday, Phoc would have all weekend to entertain
himself with this unfortunate tourist.  If she didn't
survive until Monday, well, then the Embassy would have
one less problem to solve.

Phoc had already forgotten about the X59 before he
closed his office door.


End of Chapter
