Crazy Eight

17 - Pam’s Story

After we all graduated, I went for job interviews, but with one look at my black make-up, black hair, face piercings and clumpy boots, both sides knew it wasn’t going to be a fit. I think when you added my short skirts and leather with studs, I was sometimes surprised I even got past reception.

I wasn’t that fussed if I was honest, as what I wanted was to be in a band. I was an OK singer, but where I excelled was as a drummer and being female gave me that edge of uniqueness. I managed to get known with some bands, playing on a casual basis, where a regular drummer went sick or, on more than one occasion, had been arrested. It meant a lot of short-notice gigs with ‘Are you free tonight?’ texts, but I quite enjoyed being the last-minute heroine.

Financially, I was OK as my maternal grandmother had left me a two-bedroom terraced house in the middle of town, and I earned enough money from the casual gigs to put food on the table and pay the bills. I had been playing semi-regularly with a band called ’Utter Darkness’, filling in for their druggie drummer, who they were thinking of sacking.

When Reg asked me if I could look after Hannibal for a bit, I gladly agreed as I was desperate to get into his band, and if I am honest, his pants as well. I didn’t know at the time that I was the wrong gender to get into Reg’s pants, as he concealed it well.

A few days later, I opened the door to Reg and a fierce-looking Doberman whom he introduced as Hannibal. The dog regarded me in the way the Lord of the manor would look at a servant before pushing past me to inspect his new domain. Despite Reg’s protests that he was a friendly dog and would settle in quickly, I was starting to get second thoughts. When I questioned how long Hannibal was staying with me, Reg was evasive with his answers. Before I could protest further, Reg had gone, leaving me with a pile of dog accoutrements, some scribbled notes, and a shouted, “See you Friday night.”

I found Hannibal in the kitchen, looking at the back door and then looking at me in total silence. I found out later that this was his way; he didn’t bark or paw, he would simply look, almost like he expected you to read his mind. When he returned from the garden, he stood looking, and I realised he needed feeding. Finding some bowls and a tin of food, I left him happily chomping away as I sorted his stuff away.

As he curled up in his basket in the front room, being the only place it would fit, I regarded him carefully. He was a powerful dog, and his very presence commanded attention. He largely ignored me, treating me like part of the furniture until he wanted something, and then he would stand and silently look at me. It was those silent stares that disconcerted me the most. There was clearly an intelligence behind those eyes, but also something not quite malevolent, but when he stared at me like that, it made me shiver.

The night passed without incident, and the next morning I decided I would take him for a walk. My habit in the morning is to have a long soak in the bath as I plan my day. After my bath, I left the bathroom naked, rubbing a hand towel in my hair as I walked along the hallway to my bedroom. I wasn’t looking where I was going and screamed when I bumped into Hannibal, who had appeared silently. He looked at me like he was trying to decide whether to have me for dinner or not, so with cries of ‘good dog’, I slid into the bedroom and shut the door.

The door latch couldn’t have caught properly, as when I glanced in the mirror, I saw Hannibal’s eyes staring at me. I stood and tried to shoo him out of the door, but I couldn’t budge him as he remained silent with a curious look on his face. Giving up trying to pull him by the collar, I leaned against him and tried pushing him. This caused my flesh to come in contact with his fur, and his pink tongue snaked out and rasped across my boobs.

I froze and stood, but he simply pushed his head between my legs and sniffed loudly. He obviously liked what he smelt, and his long pink tongue started to push between my legs, trying to pry my thighs apart. I kept them firmly clamped together as I tried to push his head away, but my resistance frustrated him. With a shove of his head, he pushed me back against the bed, causing me to fall on my back. He then burrowed his head between my legs, his powerful neck muscles propelling his snout between my legs.

I wanted to scream and fight, but I was defenceless against his pure power, and as he started to lick, my resistance lessened. As his tongue touched every nerve in my groin, I opened my legs more, my brain rationalising it was just a lick, nothing more. That may have been my thoughts on the matter, but it wasn’t Hannibal’s; he wanted more. In fact, he wanted everything.

As his tongue raked over my clit and pussy lips, I was subjected to the greatest degree of stimulation I had ever experienced. I arched off the bed, and I came not once but twice, as earth-shattering orgasms ripped through me.

Did I roll onto my belly willingly? I would like to think I resisted, but I would be fooling myself. Yes, he nudged me with his head, he forced me…or perhaps the truth was I wanted it. As I lay face down on my bed, I wasn’t sure whether to weep in fear or cry with joy. I could feel the animal’s cock sliding across my ass cheeks seeking my cunt, wanting to pierce my very soul…then it entered me.

I wasn’t a virgin; I had been fucked before, some big, some small, most average, but this was different. It was warm inside and felt hard like a dildo would have if it wasn’t for the heat. Then there was the speed at which he fucked me. Faster than I had ever been fucked before, as his hips hammered into me while he slobbered on my neck. I knew my only purpose in life was to be a receptacle for his seed, that was all he wanted…no, it was demanded of me.

I came…he fucked me…I screamed…he fucked me…I gurgled like an imbecile…he fucked me…non-stop, over and over, making me his bitch.

Then he knotted me. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before. That blinding flash of pain as I was opened like a baseball had been shoved into my cunt. Then it swelled…bigger and bigger until I was convinced it would rip me apart. His savage thrusts had ceased now his knot was firmly lodged inside, pressed against my g-spot while the tip of his cock twitched against my cervix. When he pulsed for the first time, I orgasmed, thrashing my head in synchronicity with the hot jets of seed coating my insides.

I must have passed out, as when I woke for a moment, I thought it was a dream, then the throbbing of my pussy and the scratches on my back and hips reminded me this was no dream but a reality.

For the next few days, we were like a honeymoon couple as we fucked and ate, then fucked some more. Over three days, I only put clothes on once, and that was to answer the door to the pizza delivery guy. I say dressed, it was in fact my large trench coat wrapped around me. As I was taking delivery, Hannibal stuck his head under the coat from behind. I squealed, and the coat fell open, giving the young man a full frontal view before I slammed the door shut. Hannibal nudged me, and, shrugging out of the coat, I knelt on all fours before he mounted me in the hallway. When I finally ate the pizza, it was cold.

On Friday night, I did get dressed as we had a gig, so Hannibal had to stay at home. When Reg asked me how Hannibal was doing, he seemed relieved when I casually said OK, then made excuses about maybe I could keep him a bit longer, as things were complicated. After further discussion, which included me becoming the permanent drummer for the band, we agreed Hannibal would stay with me indefinitely.

Hannibal and I soon developed an understanding. If he wanted to go out, he stood by the door, if he wanted to feed, he stood by the fridge, and if he wanted his bitch he would stand very close and push his snout under my skirt. I normally wore panties covered with heavy black tights, but that was not to his liking. On finding what he wanted covered, he hooked his teeth into them, tearing them from my body until I was available to him. He would lick until he was ready, and then, with firm nudges, his head would indicate I should assume the position. Then, with my head down and my ass in the air, he would fuck me to heaven and back until he had filled me with his seed.

There is no pattern to it. We fuck when he wants and to a degree where he wants. Sometimes it is two or three times a day, then he might go a couple of days ignoring me, only to wake me at two in the morning, pulling the covers off the bed. Half asleep, I will slide off the bed, then kneel beside it as he mounts me, often without even a perfunctory lick. It doesn’t matter if I start wet or dry; his pre-cum provides sufficient lubrication for entry, and within minutes of his cock pounding me, I am flooding with my juices.

When I say ‘when he wants it’, I mean exactly that; there is no ‘later’ or ‘in a minute’, it is NOW.

We were out walking in the woods near the house one cool autumn day, when he suddenly stopped and then moved very close to me, his snout trying to push inside my coat and under my skirt. As there were a few scattered people out walking, I tried to push him away, but he was having none of it. As his nudges became more forceful, I could feel myself getting wet as my body knew what was coming, but of course, the smell excited him more.

We moved off the path to behind a bush, and my mind was in a panic. Perhaps if it had been summer, I could have let him fuck me as he had outside in the garden a few months before. Crouching down, I grabbed his cock, which was fully out of its hairy sheath and dripping as I started to work it with my hand. This clearly wasn’t enough for him, as he kept trying to move into a mounting position. In desperation, I bent under him and took his cock into my mouth, which made him stand stock still. I worked him with my mouth and hand, desperately praying that no one would walk past and catch me blowing a dog.

His cock twitched in my mouth, and I felt his knot pulse against my hand. His first spurt was so powerful I nearly gagged, but I kept sucking as spurt after spurt jetted into my mouth. I swallowed between spurts, which started to slow in frequency and decrease in power. Of course, the inevitable happened. As I removed his cock from my mouth, he twitched and a powerful spurt hit me in the face. As I tried to direct his spurts away, a second jet splattered in my hair, leaving a white sticky stripe.

I wiped the cum from my face as best I could before we walked home, and it was only when I looked in the mirror, I saw I had missed the streak in my hair. I wondered if the people I had passed on the way home had noticed, and if so, what did they think had happened. My thoughts were interrupted by Hannibal gently butting me and then trotting off to the kitchen. I followed and prepared his food before slipping off my panties as he ate, just in case my master needed his bitch after dinner.