Dogging with The Boys - a Party Animal

I don't think I believed him. I know I didn't. I got this idea of a kind of half-puppy-baby and him not giving me an abortion, or of trying to and something going wrong and being taken to A&E and the doctors finding this thing inside me and I was really scared and evry time he fucked me, or anyone fucked me, I kept crying and hoping I could die!

But then, when nothing seemed to happen and I had a period I hoped that it was okay, and I wasn't pregnant. And then he sold me and I moved to Glasgow, which, for me, was like another country. My new owner, Titch, wasn't anything like his name. He was big and fat and black. I had been with black

guys before and they didn't treat me any different from white men or asian men cos when it comes to men and girls, they are all the same. Titch kept me and three other girls in a flat in Drumchapel, which is on the North-West of the city, and he had a patch near Byers Road where we worked. There were some trendy pubs and clubs there and that was where we picked up punters. He had a van too and we could take them there, or there were plenty of alleys which we also used for quickies. And a lot of customers for quickies.

I think this was when Yuppies were all the rage and the streets were full of sharp suits and coke. Of course Titch kept us supplied with coke and ity deadened our senses. I can't imagine what we talked about, it must have been a load of shite, but we seemed to think everything was fun and funny and the punters seemed to like us being wired and rapping with them. Life was a Big Fat Joke and we were the Punchline for the guys we picked up. Of course I don't remember much but from what I;ve heard and read since, everyone was hyped and these guys who were making big money liked to splash it around, drink, drugs, dogs. We were the dogs. That was what they called us and they usually wanted to fuck doggy-style. They didn't want to risk any lipstick on their collars so they just bent us over and shagged us. And they didn't seem to care where they shagged us - See You Next Tuesday or Bum. It was all the same to them. It was all the same to us. Oh and bareback was twenty extra and they still didn't care. I don't think I ever had a punter who wanted to use a condom, and they were happy to pay the extra. One, I do remember this, said: “my girl at the office always insists on a rubber, says she doesn't want me giving her the Clap, so it's only the wife and working girls that let me do it right,” and I thought, what a bastard, but of course I didn't say anything.

Oh and a lot wanted blow-jobs. It seemed that most of their wives didn't do that, or let them fuck doggy, so it was only with us that that they could do what they wanted. Someone said that we provided a Social Service, so for years afterwards I told people that I was a Social Worker, which is usually a good thing, except if there's a big case about abuse or murder where the Social Workers have fucked up and then I didn't say that, I said I'd been an actress, in Pantomime, which was kinda true, because I imagined that I was princess Charming and I was trying to find the perfect fitting cock!

But there was nothing funny about our lives, it was just one constant drudge, only bearable because of the Coke that Titch gave us. I always thought that he was really a Dealer and we were some kind of cover. He probably had boys going around the pubs and clubs pushing baggies while we were picking up punters, who knows, maybe even some of his boys fucked us as well.

It was like being on a treadmill or one of those running machines in a Gym: you can't stop, and the faster you run the more you stay in the same place. That was what the Red Queen in Alice Through the Looking Glass said and it was how my Fourteenth Birthday came and went and I never even knew. I felt I'd been doing this for ever – every day was the same, we worked seven days (or nights) a week; no day off, no holiday, no rest, nothing. Work, eat sleep, snort some coke and do it all again. And the punters all merged into one.

So I forgot about the dog-baby. Until the night this guy had a word with Titch and Titch sent me off with the bloke to spend the night. He was a pal of Titch. And he had some friends. And another dog. And I was fucked every-which-way by seven guys and the dog. Do all men like to watch a girl being fucked by a dog? I suppose in the country it's pigs or sheep or something – after all don't they say that all country boys get their first sexual experience with a sheep? Yes they do! And I believe it's true – and maybe that's why guys like fucking doggy-style, it brings back those happy memories of their Little Lamb or Fido or Rover when their parents were out at the pub. I don't have a high opinion of men.

Anyway, this Party where I was the Centre of Attention was in a big house in the West End, just across the road from where we worked – Clarence Drive it was, near the BBC and that was how I realised that he looked familiar: he was the star of a comedy show, though I'm not sure how I knew that because we never got much chance to watch TV. And then I realized that BBC was also an abbreciation for Big Black Cock. Now, Titch was reasonable endowed, but there were a couple of much bigger cocks here. I had never been especially attracted to big cocks – for one thing: they could be quite a mothful, and for another: they could hurt. To be honest, I was already so experienced that I had long since realised that I didn't like them at all. Of course, I had to pretend – which made my later claims to being an actress quite fair. Men expect a girl to be overjoyed, so overjoyed I always pretended to be – regardless of the size, shape, colour, hardness or softness – but the thing that really did please me was when they came quickly.

For a lot of men, if you play your hand well, they can cum even before entering, between your legs or bum cheeks, or into your mouth, before you have to take the cock in. And then, their erection usually wilts quickly too. Sometimes, I could almost believe that there is a God in Heaven, or a Guardian Angel looking over my shoulder – though what she might think of me, I wouldn't like to know. Anyway, this party was better, for me, than that last one. The men all called me by name, and that is unusual. Christ, it's amost unheard of! Even Titch didn't call me Teri – just “you, babe, bitch, sweetie, cunt, cumslut, whore, fucktoy,” or whatever similar endearments came to him. I think the 'fucktoy' was the most truthful, because that was what me and the rest of the girls were to him, to the punters, to the guys he sometimes loaned us to. We weren't people, just toys to be used and passed on – or sometimes pissed on too!

But these guys, for some reason. Were different. I don't mean they were kind and gentle and lovuing, or any of that stupid nonsense. I mean, no-one loves a fucktoy any more than a sex-doll, but they didn't try to hurt me, or demean me, or make me invisible. Oh, they used me, oh, yes, they used me, but they did it with a kind of consideration – I don't know if I'm explaining it properly; I don't mean they were gentle or bothered about what I might want. That would be taking it too far. I was there for their pleasure, but it was like as if I was the entertainment but like a DJ, so they would say what they wanted and I would do it. You don't just let the DJ play his own favourites: you tell him the sort of stuff you like and while that's playing, you also ask for specific favourites of your own. And that was how they treated me. I wasn't expected to say “no!” And when I was asked, it wasn't really a question, more a statement of what I would do or they would do to me.

So while it wasn't as bad as that other party, it was much better than it could have been. I can't go so far as to say I actually enjoyed it – I never enjoyed sex with men, it was just something they did to me, but at least this wasn't as bad as it could have been. I've had BAD and I've had WORSE THAN BAD! So I know what I'm talking about. This one was survivable.

And then they brought in the Dog! I think this was meant to be the climax of the party. I realized it wasn't something that they'd done before, because they were trying to work out how to set it up. The TV star wanted to film it, and he had a camera – it was the biggest camera I'd ever seen, so it must have come from the studio or a movie set or something, and he was trtying to work out where to place the action while I felt the others just wanted to see the dog fuck me, but he was the Host and the Star and they all deferred to him, in everything, including who could fuck me and when; so he obviously wanted to film a good show, but he wasn't sure if the dog would perform exactly as he wanted.

It was actually a friendly and affectionate dog. They told me to suck it's tongue, which I did, and to kneel down so it could mount me from behind, which it did. I didn't know if was used to fucking girls, or just desperate, but it managed to get right up my See You Next Tuesday and give me a good hard fuck, which pleased the men no end, and particularly the host, who was also the dog's owner. He said to me: “Dixon likes you, Teri, that's the best I've filmed and you were good too, you got your rhythm right so he was able to go deeper into you. Then he got me to suck Dixon off, which wasn't too bad, really, though his cock did taste a bit like pee.

 

The Centre of Attention

That was one of the worst nights of my life! My owner loaned me out to a friend of his for a party he was giving for a couple of his buddies who wanted a young girl – and I was she! So far, so normal. I was used to being fucked by strangers who didn't care much about me so long as they got to stick their cocks inside me and get a good cummuppance. But these guys had a dog and their idea of a fun night was not just to fuck me themselves, but also watch their dog fuck me. Okay, it wasn't particularly me that they wanted their dog to fuck, it was anyone, anyone young and at their mercy. Which that night was me!

Of course they went first, and I think that was so the dog would get the scent of me. They were both a lot older than me – which wasn't difficult as I was still only 13 and they must have been in their forties, and they were both big guys, heavy and with big cocks to match.

They treated me with as much care as they would have shown to a blow-up sex doll. They fucked me like a spit-roast, and swapped ends after they had both cum. Then, once they were both spent, they encouraged the dog to sniff at me and helped it mount me from behind. This had never happened to me before and I was quite scared, I didn't want to get bitten or clawed. I had no idea whether dogs might do that but I was scared of catching rabies, so I didn't put up any kind of struggle, which suited them and the dog. Thy needed to help shove it's cock up my See You Next Tuesday and then sat back and laughed as it shagged me and I knew they were taking photos or shooting a video, so I tried to just shut my eyesand pray for it to be over.

I had no idea how long it would take, and it seemed to take a long time, with them helping out whenever it slipped out but once the dog got a good hold of me with it's front legs it went at me like a jackhammer and I felt it shooting it's load inside me.

The stupidest thoughts were running around in my head. Could I get pregnant? I had no idea, but the thought of that gave me a panic attack and that seemed to excite the two guys, so they fucked me again. One in my bum and the other in my See You Next Tuesday, and this was the longest fucking of the night. They had both cum a couple of times inside me and probably wanked off while the dog was doing it's stuff, so this time took ages. There I was, squashed between their bellies, and it felt like their cocks were practically rubbing up against each other inside me, they were pushing me up and

down on their rods and trying to cum together. Anyway, they eventually did, and then just dropped me on the floor, while they wiped their dicks with tissues and then put on the tv. They never spoke to me, just left me to get myself up and dressed and then one of them called me a taxi and sent me back to my owner.

When I arrived, he showed me some photos his pals had posted on-line. The only saving grace, as far as I was concerned, was that no-one would recognise me from them. My face was never shown properly, their main interest being in their own cocks and the dog's. Myowner said I had been good and he wanted to reward me. That meant, he wanted to fuck me too. And he did. Afterwards, I asked him if I could become pregnant from the dog-fuck, but he told me that it was impossible. Then said, so far as he knew. Which wasn't much comfort. Then he said not to worry, if I ever do get pregnant, he'd fix me up with an abortion. Which was the glum thought I took with me to my mattress.

Written in the Sand - Postcards from the Sea Side:











One of my naughtier neices took this photo of me when I was deeply engrossed in the Tory and Labour Leadership Shindigs, and just to prove my lack of personal vanity I'm posting it here, albeit with a modicum of nervous embarrassment but, come on, it's not so bad really!

Our Holiday House was chosen for it's size and accessibility, it manages to cater for a lot of us at peak periods and is close enough to the village shop for essentials (alcohol and ciggies, for me and my ilk; and sweeties for the kids) and I can comfortably walk there and back in about 25 minutes - some of the younger ones actually include it as part of their jogging or running programme! Anyone who knows me knows I do neither of these two strange  forms of behaviour, though I have been known to put on a spurt when trying to catch a bus or train. As you probably know, our household is almost exclusively female, though there is a small annexe for Goldy and Gordon when they come. All they have to do is move out the lawnmower and rolls of hoses and use the foot pump for an airbed. It may sound basic, but they are used to stake-outs in less salubrious locations, so they manage fine and I don't think either of them is arachnaphobic, at least, not too much! And if the roof leaks (though we have had hardly any rain this summer - so far) we can always squeeze them under the stairs with the kids toys and the cats. Isa went out for eggs and came back with a hen and a small herd of cows, and as no-one had the nerve to do anything lethal to the hen, it was sent back - along with the cows. None of us are actually vegetarian, but we prefer others to do the dirty work for us, though I think Isa was getting a bit irritated with the hen giving her the Evil Eye!

Holiday Reading

The past few weeks have been very busy, with all the strange comings and goings on – none of us have had time even to go up to Edinburgh, despite the convenience of the new Scottish Borders Railway – and everyone has been agog over the remarkable appearance of two Professor Sir Clement Danes strolling arm-in-arm around Melrose, not to mention the influx of American Gis who have been allowed to rest here before they are flown off to America, in some cases to meet children who are older than they are themselves! And that is not to mention the disappearances of, first Sir Pantagruel MacFarlanem and almost immediately afterwards, my lovely cousin, Trainee WPC Gertie Mountcastle! And to cap it all the flurry of Police activity in Bowden, culminating with the arrest of TV star, recording artist and intimate of Queens and Potentates, Ranulph Ochan'toshan OBE! And the simultaneous disappearance of several of his friends and a couple of Police Officers from Ochan'toshan's Hill House in the village! What a lot to take in – so I am way behind with my preparations for the Annual Family Holiday By The Seaside: I haven't packed a thing, and we set off tomorrow lunchtime; but, at least I know what my holiday reading will be.

I have started Travels with my Aunt, by Graham Greene, and after watching The People Vs O J Simpson, I have now started on Marcia Clark's account, in her book Without a Doubt. Marcia Clark was the Deputy DA who led the Prosecution team in the O J Simpson trial and despite knowing the eventual outcome, I found the TV drama, with John Travolta as Defence Attorney Robert Shapiro and Sarah Paulson as Clark, fascinating viewing, giving back-room insight into both prosecution and defence strategies. Over ten episodes, there was ample time for different individuals to be focussed on, and for character development and as an ensemble piece I gave it top marks. Unfortunately, the ending wasn't what it should have been but that was no-one's fault (I was going to say 'but the jury's' though that would be unfair, because every juror is an individual and we all heve our own histories and belief-systems and no matter how logically and expertly a case is made, we can each, for our own reasons, turn it down; simple human nature) and any story based on fact must work within those confines.

Graham Greene's story – I think it would fall into the class of 'Entertainment' as opposed to those works he called 'novels' although in his later years he seemed to disregard these divisions – has two central characters: Henry Pulling, an early-retired Bank Manager who was not longer required after a take-over, and his eponymous Aunt Augusta, plus the many and varied personalities they encounter on their Travels. Travelling anywhere is really outside Henry's experience, and travelling with Augusta is unlike anything he would ever have contemplated; old lovers, Police – both at home and abroad – and strange hotels, all figure prominently. Mine is a Folio Society edition, borrowed from my father's library, with colour illustrations by John Holder. Henry looks rather like Hiram Holliday as portrayed by Wally Cox which is good enough for me, although he hasn't been called on for any bravery or derring-do.

I've also got more books on my Kindle, should my attention flag a little and I will take War and Peace, theough whether I will get enough peace to read it will depend on the younger members of the family – or maybe the older ones: my Aunts are quite capable of stirring up a hornets nest wherever they go! Aunt Augusta may have a string of old lovers scattered across Europe and beyond, but I'm sure my Aunts could run her pretty close!